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Title: The Public Life of Queen Victoria
Author: McGilchrist, John, 1833-1891
Language: English
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VICTORIA***
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THE PUBLIC LIFE OF QUEEN VICTORIA.
by
JOHN MCGILCHRIST.
Felt and Dillingham,
455, Broome Street, New York.
CONTENTS.
PAGE
CHAPTER I.
ANCESTRY.
Frederick the Wise, Elector of Saxony, the Protector of
Luther--Staunch Protestantism of the Queen's Saxon
Forefathers--House of Saxe-Coburg--A Saxon Desperado of the
Middle Ages--A Fighting Hero of the Eighteenth Century--The
Queen's Grandmother a Woman of Extraordinary Excellence--
Great Alliances in the Marriages of her Uncles and Aunts 1
CHAPTER II.
THE GREATEST OF THE MODERN COBURGS.
Romantic Career of Prince Leopold of Saxe-Coburg, the Queen's
Uncle--His Continuous, Kind, and Fatherly Care of his
Orphaned Niece--The Duchy of Coburg held by Napoleon--
Sufferings of the Ducal Family--A Temptation resisted--The
Tide turned--Leopold's Popularity in England--Betrothal and
Marriage to the Princess Charlotte of Wales 8
CHAPTER III.
PARENTAGE AND BIRTH OF QUEEN VICTORIA.
How the Princess Victoria came to be Heiress Presumptive to
the Throne--Death of the Princess Charlotte--Marriages of the
Royal Dukes--Of the Duke of Kent--Birth of the Princess
Alexandrina Victoria--Prediction of George IV.--Death of the
Duke of Kent--His Character--His Liberal Opinions--Public
Condolence with the Widow and Orphan--Early Life of the
Duchess of Kent 14
CHAPTER IV.
FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD.
Old Memories of Kensington Palace--Enlargements of the
Structure by William III., Anne, Queen Caroline, and the Duke
of Sussex--Maids of Honour--Rank and Beauty in the Gardens--
Wilberforce and the Infant Princess--Victoria at Ramsgate--A
Picture of Victoria when Five Years Old--Her Physical
Training--Popularity as a Child--Her Youthful Charities--A
Narrow Escape from Death--Early Development of Quick
Intelligence--Anecdotes--Love of Nature--Proneness to
Self-Will--But Counterbalanced by Candour--Waggishness--A
Portrait of the Child-Princess by Leigh Hunt 23
CHAPTER V.
EDUCATION OF THE PRINCESS VICTORIA.
Additional Grant by Parliament for the Maintenance and
Education of the Princess--Wise Lessons learned at her
Mother's Knee--A Visit to George IV. at Windsor--Assiduous
Pursuit of Knowledge--Accession of William IV.--Victoria
becomes next in Succession to the Crown--Regency Bill--
Satisfaction of the Good Grandmother at Coburg--Her Death--
Joy of Victoria at the Elevation of her Uncle to the Belgian
Throne--Parliamentary Inquiry into the Progress of her
Education--Satisfactory Report in Response--Presented at
Court--Great Ball on her Twelfth Birthday at St. James's
Palace--Court Scandal and Baseless Rumours--The Duchess of
Northumberland appointed Governess--The Princess and the
Poet Southey 37
CHAPTER VI.
THE PRINCESS IN HER TEENS.
Visits paid to many parts of England--Love of Cathedrals and
Church Music--Trip to North Wales and the Midland Counties--
Visit to a Cotton Mill--To Oxford--Gala Day at Southampton--
Interview with the Young Queen of Portugal--Confirmation of
the Princess--Tour to the North--York Musical Festival--At
Ramsgate with the King of the Belgians--A Noble Deed at
Tunbridge Wells 47
CHAPTER VII.
EARLY DAYS OF PRINCE ALBERT.
Birth--Melancholy Story of his Mother--Brought up under the
Care of his Two Excellent Grandmothers--His Winning Ways as
a Child--His Tutor, Florschütz--The Brothers, Ernest and
Albert--Visit to Brussels, and its Beneficial Effects--Hard
Study--Tour through Germany, &c.--First Visit to England,
and Meeting with Victoria--Studies at Brussels--Enters the
University of Bonn--Tour to Switzerland and Italy--Public
Announcement of Betrothal--Leaves Coburg and Gotha for his
Marriage 52
CHAPTER VIII.
THE PRINCESS VICTORIA BECOMES QUEEN REGNANT.
First Meeting of the Princess Victoria and Prince Albert--
Coming of Age--Festivities on the Occasion--Death of William
IV., and Accession of Victoria--The Queen holds her First
Privy Council--Her Address--Proclamation as Queen at St.
James's Palace--Beautiful Traits of Character displayed by
the Queen--Stirring and Gorgeous Scene--Delight of the
People at the Queen's Accession 61
CHAPTER IX.
THE MAIDEN QUEEN.
Removal to Buckingham Palace--First Levée--Dissolves
Parliament--Beauty of her Elocution--Splendid Reception by
the City of London--Settlement of the Queen's Income--Her
Daily Life--Her Admirable Knowledge of, and Devotion to, the
Business of the State--Reverence for the Lord's Day 69
CHAPTER X.
THE QUEEN CROWNED.
Novel Features in the Coronation--Its Cost--Large Amount of
Money Circulated--Splendour of the Procession--Enormous
Crowds--The Scene within the Abbey--Arrival of the Queen--
The Regalia and Sacred Vessels--Costume of the Queen--
Astonishment of the Turkish Ambassador at the Scene--The
Coronation Ceremony--The Queen's Oath--The Anointing--The
Crown placed on her Head--The Homage--An Aged Peer--The
Queen's Crown--The Illuminations and General Festivities--
Fair in Hyde Park--The Duke of Wellington and Marshal Soult
at the Guildhall 75
CHAPTER XI.
THE BEDCHAMBER PLOT.
Resignation of Lord Melbourne's Cabinet--Sir Robert Peel
sent for--Fails to form a Cabinet--His Explanation--The
Queen refuses to Dismiss her Ladies of the Bedchamber--
Supported by her late Ministers--Sir Robert Peel's
Objections--The Queen will not give way--The Whigs recalled
to Power--Public Opinion on the Dispute--The Whig Ministers
blamed, and the Queen exculpated 84
CHAPTER XII.
COURTSHIP AND BETROTHAL.
Desire of the Coburg Relatives for a Marriage between
Victoria and Albert--Favourable Impressions mutually made by
Victoria and Albert--Prince Albert's Letter on the Queen's
Accession--Opposition of King William IV. to the Marriage--
Correspondence between the Cousins--King Leopold Urges on
the Marriage--The Queen's Reluctance to become Betrothed--
Her subsequent Regret at this--The Prince craves a definite
Determination--His Second Visit to England--Betrothed at
Last--Returns to Germany to say Farewell 91
CHAPTER XIII.
THE QUEEN WEDDED.
Announcement of the Intended Marriage to the Privy Council
and Parliament--Parliamentary Settlement of the Prince's
Rank, &c.--Annoying Circumstances--The Prince's
Protestantism--His Income--Arrival of the Bridegroom--
Receives a National Welcome--The Wedding--Honeymoon Spent at
Windsor 100
CHAPTER XIV.
EARLY YEARS OF MARRIED LIFE.
Difficulties and Delicacy of Prince Albert's Position--Early
Married Life--Studies continued--Attempts on the Queen's
Life--Courage of the Queen--Birth of the Princess Royal--
Parting from the Whig Ladies of the Bedchamber--Dark Days
for England--Birth of the Prince of Wales--The Queen
Described by M. Guizot--A Dinner at Buckingham Palace--State
Dinner at Windsor 110
CHAPTER XV.
THE QUEEN IN SCOTLAND.
Christening of the Prince of Wales--Manufacturing Distress--
The Queen's Efforts to alleviate it--Assesses Herself to the
Income Tax--Resolves to Visit Scotland--Embarks at Woolwich--
Beacon Fires in the Firth of Forth--Landing on Scottish
Soil--A Disappointment--Formal Entry into Edinburgh--Richness
of Historical and Ancestral Associations--The Queen on the
Castle Rock--A Highland Welcome--Departure from Scotland 126
CHAPTER XVI.
WHAT ENGLAND OWES TO PRINCE ALBERT.
The Prince's Study of our Laws and Constitution--Two
Misconceptions Outlived--His Versatility--His First Speech
an Anti-Slavery one--His Appreciation and Judicious Criticism
of Art--Scientific Side of his Mind--As an Agriculturist 141
CHAPTER XVII.
FOREIGN TRAVEL AND HOME VISITS.
Visit to King Louis Philippe at Eu--A Loyal Corporation--
Splendid Reception of the Queen in France--Anecdote of the
Queen's Regard for Prince Albert--Visit of the Czar
Nicholas--Home Life in Scotland--Visit to Germany--
Illuminations of the Rhine--A Rural Fête at Coburg 149
CHAPTER XVIII.
THE QUEEN IN IRELAND.
First Visit to Ireland--Rapturous Reception at Cork--
Queenstown so denominated--Enthusiasm at Dublin--Its
Graceful Recognition by the Queen--Visit to the Dublin
Exhibition--Encouragement of Native Industry--Visit to the
Lakes of Killarney--The Whirligig of Time 157
CHAPTER XIX.
THE WORLD'S CONGRESS OF INDUSTRY.
Prince Albert the Inaugurator of International Exhibitions--
Proposes, Unsuccessfully, his Scheme to the Government--To
the Society of Arts, Successfully--First Steps towards
Realisation--Objections to be Met--Perseverance of the
Prince--The Royal Commission--The Prince's Speech at York--
The Opening Ceremony--The Royal Procession 164
CHAPTER XX.
THE WAR CLOUD.
Bright Hopes of Peace Dispelled--An Era of War all over the
World--The Russian War--The Queen's Visits to the Wounded
Soldiers--Presentation of the War Medals--Crimean Heroes--The
Volunteer Movement 172
CHAPTER XXI.
THE QUEEN IN HER HIGHLAND HOME.
The Queen as an Author--"The Early Years of the Prince
Consort"--"Leaves from the Journal of Our Life in the
Highlands"--Love for Children of all Ranks--Mountain Ascents
on Pony-back--In Fingal's Cave--"The Queen's Luck"--
Salmon-spearing, and a Catastrophe attending it--Erection of
a Memorial Cairn--Freedom of Intercourse with Humble
Highlanders--Visits to Cottagers--"Mrs. Albert"--Travelling
Incognito--Highland Dinners--"A Wedding-Party frae
Aberdeen"--A Disguise Detected 186
CHAPTER XXII.
THE WIDOWED QUEEN.
Unbroken Happiness of the Queen's Life up to 1861--Death of
the Duchess of Kent--The Prince Consort slightly Ailing--
Catches Cold at Cambridge and Eton--The Malady becomes
Serious--Public Alarm--Rapid Sinking, and Death--Sorrow of
the People--The Queen's Fortitude--Avoidance of Court
Display--Good Deeds--Sympathy with all Benevolent Actions--
Letter of Condolence to the Widow of President Lincoln--The
"Albert Medal"--Conclusion 194
LIFE OF QUEEN VICTORIA.
CHAPTER I.
ANCESTRY.
Frederick the Wise, Elector of Saxony, the Protector of
Luther--Staunch Protestantism of the Queen's Saxon Forefathers--House
of Saxe-Coburg--A Saxon Desperado of the Middle Ages--A Fighting Hero
of the Eighteenth Century--The Queen's Grandmother a Woman of
Extraordinary Excellence--Great Alliances in the Marriages of her
Uncles and Aunts.
Queen Victoria is, through her mother, descended--and her children are
descended by the double line of both their parents--from the great, good,
and glorious Frederick the Wise, Elector of Saxony early in the sixteenth
century, who was one of the first to embrace the principles of Luther's
Reformation, and whose name still stands out so nobly and brightly as the
staunch and courageous protector of the great Reformer. The Ernestine
branch of this great Saxon house, from which the Queen and the Prince
Consort both derived their descent, have ever, though at great cost and
injury to themselves at many periods of their history, remained true to
the principles thus early adopted by their common ancestor; and they have
ever considered it as the brightest glory of their race, that they can
proudly point to this unquestionable fact. When one of the most
distinguished members--if, indeed, he was not the most illustrious
scion--of this family, the Queen's maternal uncle, Leopold, King of the
Belgians, made a journey into Scotland, to allay the pangs of the
bereavement which he had suffered in the untimely death of his young wife,
the Princess Charlotte, he paid a visit of a few days' duration to Sir
Walter Scott at Abbotsford. While there, an aged and reverend Scottish
divine was presented to the Prince. The clergyman, in the course of the
interview, made complimentary reference to this fact in the descent of the
Prince. Prince Leopold, in reply, stated that this was the first notice
which had been taken of the circumstance in his presence since the day of
his first arrival in England, and that he felt more honoured by it than by
any other tribute which had been paid to him and his family.
[Sidenote: "A GLIMPSE OF SAXON HISTORY."]
The curious in such matters, those for whom the minute particularity of
authenticated genealogical detail possesses a charm, with which the
compiler of these pages acknowledges that he is himself affected, but
which it would be unfair to such of his readers as do not share this taste
to minister to at excessive length--such we refer to the Reverend Edward
Tauerschmidt's "Brief Historical Account of the Dukedom and Ducal House of
Saxe-Coburg and Gotha." There they will find the full pedigree, with no
link wanting, which connects Her Majesty, and equally her first cousin and
spouse, by the links of twenty-five generations, with the Saxon Earl
Theodoric, or Dideric, of the House of Bucizi, who is recorded to have
died in the year of our Lord 982. We content ourselves with proceeding at
a leap to the reign of Frederick the Benignant, Elector of Saxony, who
was thirteenth in descent from Earl Theodoric, and died in 1464. In a most
fascinating article which was contributed by Mr. Carlyle to the January
number of the _Westminster Review_ for the year 1855, entitled, "A Glimpse
of Saxon History," a most romantic incident of this Elector's reign is
narrated with the writer's customary graphic power. This potentate had a
"fighting captain" in his employ, by name Kunz von Kaufungen. Fighting for
his master, he was captured, and being a warrior of importance, was
amerced in the heavy ransom of a sum equal to 2,000 English pounds. This
he paid, but expected to be indemnified by Frederick. This expectation,
for some reason, was not fulfilled. Kunz, exasperated, swore to be
avenged. On the 7th of July, 1455, Kunz entered the town of Altenburg, at
the head of a party of thirty men. Having bribed one of the servants to
treachery, they obtained admission into the Electoral castle, from which
they carried off Frederick's two sons, the Princes Ernest and Albert. The
Electress soon discovered her loss, and the desperadoes had not proceeded
far on their several ways (they had divided into two bands, each having
one of the children), ere they were hotly pursued. Kunz himself headed
that moiety of his force who bore with them Ernest, the elder boy and the
more valuable hostage. The pursuers caused alarms to be rung from the
village spires, and amongst others of the peasantry who were aroused, was
a rough charcoal-burner, who, encountering the party of Kunz, "belaboured
him with the poking-pole" which he used in his vocation, and to such
effect that he vanquished the abductor, rescued the boy, and had the
happiness of restoring him to the arms of his agonised mother. When
asked, wonderingly and admiringly, how he dared to attack so formidable a
foe, he replied to his fair and grateful querist, "Madam, I _drilled_ him
soundly with my poking-pole." From that day he was known by no other name
than the Driller--_der Triller_. Kunz was consigned to the block, while
the Driller, and deliverer, was offered any reward he chose to name. This
true man--a mediæval "Miller of the Dee"--asked no other recompense than
"only liberty to cut, of scrags and waste wood, what will suffice for my
charring purposes." This was at once granted, along with the freehold of a
snug farm, and an annual and ample allowance of corn from the barns of the
Electors. All was secured to him and his posterity by formal deed, and his
descendants to this day enjoy the privileges so valiantly earned by their
ancestor four centuries ago. From the two princes so rescued, descended
respectively the Ernestine and the Albertine branches of the Saxon house.
The Queen is--as her husband was--twelfth in descent from the little
Prince Ernest, who became the progenitor of the former line.
[Sidenote: THE QUEEN'S SAXON ANCESTORS.]
The parent stock had boasted among other meritorious or distinguished
representatives the names of Conrad the Great, Otho the Rich, Henry the
Illustrious, three Fredericks, dubbed respectively the Serious, the
Warlike, and the Benignant; whilst, as disparaging sets-off, either
demerit or misfortune was indicated, in the instance of other Electors, by
these sobriquets--the Oppressed, the Degenerate, the Severe, and,
strangest of all, Frederick-with-the-Wounded-Cheek. This habit of
designating the successive Electors by their moral or other
peculiarities, or by the incidents or accidents of their careers, was
continued but for a few generations of the Ernestine branch of the
bifurcated line. It contained a Magnanimous Frederick, and a Fiery Ernest,
after whose death, in 1675, this pleasing plan of picturesque designation
no longer meets the eye of the student.
The chivalrous protection which Frederick the Magnanimous--or the Wise, as
he is sometimes also denominated--spread as a buckler over Luther and the
Lutherans cost him his birthright. The bigoted Charles V. diverted, in
1547, the Electoral dignity from the Ernestine to the Albertine branch,
and the fortunes of the house cannot be said to have been fully restored
until the Treaty of Tilsit, in 1807, ratified as its main provisions were
by that of Vienna, seven years later.
Coming down to more recent times, and to the Queen's more immediate
ancestry, we find the old spirit which these brave Saxon princes
represented in the stirring mediæval and Reforming days, abundantly
maintained in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, and notably so on
the field of battle, in the great wars with which the names of Frederick
the Great, Maria Theresa, Suwarow, and Napoleon are associated.
Francis Josias was twenty-second of the line, and the Queen's
great-great-grandfather. His great-grandson, the late King Leopold, says
of him, that he was "much looked up to." He was a tall and powerful man,
but disfigured by having lost an eye at tennis, a game then very popular
on the Continent. One of his grandsons, a Prince Frederick Josias, served
with distinction in the Seven Years' War, in one of the battles of which
he was shot through the hand. He was subsequently employed in high
positions by the Empress Maria Theresa, and made a great name for himself
against the Turks. Suwarow and he extricated the Emperor Joseph, the son
of the Empress, from utter failure, and conquered the Principalities. He
afterwards fought against Dumouriez in the Netherlands, and gained the
battle of Neerwinden, in 1793, near Tirlemont; "one of the greatest
battles of modern history," says his nephew, King Leopold, a most
competent authority on the subject. He says that, but for the inaction of
the Dutch contingent, and the insane attempt of the Duke of York to
conquer Dunkirk, the allies, after this victory, which cleared the
Netherlands of the French, might as easily have marched upon Paris as the
forces of Wellington and Blucher did after Waterloo.
The Queen's grandfather, suffering early in life from exceedingly bad
health, was cast in a much less energetic mould, but his character was
eminently benevolent and loveable, and he had a knowledge and love of the
fine arts, which Prince Albert, in the highest degree of all his
descendants, inherited. The Queen's grandmother, who was of the
Reuss-Ebersdorff family, was equally warm-hearted, possessed a powerful
mind, and "loved her grandchildren most tenderly." We shall have much to
say of her in subsequent pages.
[Sidenote: THE HOUSE OF SAXE-COBURG.]
Of the Queen's aunts, one, after declining many eligible offers in her own
princely rank, married Count Mensdorff-Pouilly, a French emigrant of the
Revolution, who entered the Austrian service, and became the father of the
well-known Austrian statesman, Count Arthur Mensdorff, who was the bosom
friend of Prince Albert from his earliest infancy until his untimely
death. A second married the reigning Duke of Wurtemburg, and occupied for
many years a very influential position in Russia, her husband being
brother of the Empress Catherine (the second of that name), and maternal
uncle of the Emperors Alexander and Nicholas. The third daughter of the
house herself became a Russian Grand Duchess; she was wedded at the age of
fifteen to the Grand Duke Constantine. The marriage was an inharmonious
one, and in 1802 the young pair agreed to separate. Both husband and wife
were acquitted of all blame; Leopold, the brother of the latter,
attributes the sad event to "the shocking hypocrisy of the
Empress-mother," in the absence of which "things might have gone on." The
Queen's mother, who was christened Victoire (or Victoria) Marie Louise,
was the youngest of the four sisters. Besides Duke Ernest, the father of
Prince Albert, the Queen had two other maternal uncles. One was Frederick
George, who married a great heiress, the Hungarian Princess of Kohary. His
son became the consort of Donna Maria II. of Portugal; his grandson, the
present King of Portugal, is the Queen's first cousin once removed, and
the second cousin of her children. Her other uncle was the late King of
the Belgians, whose career is a portion of the history of our
grandfathers', our fathers', and our own times, and is so intimately
associated with the life and fortunes of Her Majesty as to merit separate
treatment in a succeeding chapter, and elsewhere incidentally in the
course of our narrative.
CHAPTER II.
THE GREATEST OF THE MODERN COBURGS.
Romantic Career of Prince Leopold of Saxe-Coburg, the Queen's
Uncle--his Continuous, Kind, and Fatherly Care of his Orphaned
Niece--The Duchy of Coburg held by Napoleon--Sufferings of the Ducal
Family--A Temptation resisted--The Tide turned--Leopold's Popularity
in England--Betrothal and Marriage to the Princess Charlotte of Wales.
[Sidenote: PRINCE LEOPOLD OF SAXE-COBURG.]
Born in the year 1790, Prince Leopold was a soldier and in the saddle when
he was fifteen years of age. In 1805, that war broke out between Napoleon
and Austria, in which the power of the Kaiser was so near being destroyed.
The health of the Duke Francis, Leopold's father, was fast failing him,
and the tremendous sorrows and sufferings inflicted by the victorious
French upon Germany, hastened the rapidity of his descent to the grave.
Ernest, the eldest son, and Leopold hurriedly left Coburg to join the
Russian army in Moravia. Their only other brother was already in an
Austrian regiment of Hussars. Ere Leopold could flesh his sword,
Austerlitz had been fought and lost, and Austria was thoroughly crippled.
He returned to Coburg to witness his father's death. The French were in
possession of the town and Duchy, and when they learned that the new Duke
was with their Prussian foe, they appointed a military intendant, a M.
Vilain--in nature as well as in name, so Leopold afterwards recorded. The
Ducal family were reduced to such straits, that they depended for their
very sustenance upon the clandestine benefactions of the Governmental
subordinates, surlily winked at by their French masters. The Duchess set
off on a journey to Warsaw to endeavour to propitiate Napoleon; but she
was permitted to proceed no farther than Berlin, as Napoleon hated such
visits. She returned baffled to Coburg, which remained "une possession
Française." The Peace of Tilsit, among its other provisions,
"reintegrated" Coburg; but, through the greed and treachery of Prussia,
the stipulated arrangements were never fulfilled. On the ratification of
the Peace, Duke Ernest came to Coburg for the first time to assume his
Ducal power and dignity.
As a matter of policy, Leopold, with other German Princes, now visited
Napoleon at Paris, where he was courteously received. On his return from
Paris, early in 1808, he nearly died of scarlet fever. After a very tardy
and painful recovery, he went, at the end of the year, to the Congress of
Erfurth, to which he had been summoned by the Czar Alexander. He tried
there to secure to his brother his undiminished territorial possessions,
and succeeded in making such a favourable impression upon Napoleon that he
would have done so, but for the impolitic excessiveness of his brother's
claims, and the apathetic manner in which the Czar supported them. The war
with Russia came on, in which he eagerly desired to serve against the
French; but Napoleon caused it to be known that if he did so his brother
would be held responsible; so he had to abide in inglorious and detested
ease. Napoleon made him tempting offers to enter his service, and would
have been more incensed at his persistent refusal than he was, but for
the friendly intercession of Josephine and Queen Hortense, her daughter,
who were both very friendly to the young Prince.
Meanwhile he turned his eminent talents for diplomacy to good account. He
persuaded Bavaria to return to his brother portions of Coburg territory
which that state unjustly held, and removed the galling pain of the
Bavarian flag floating over villages within four English miles of the town
of Coburg itself.
[Sidenote: THE PRINCESS CHARLOTTE.]
In 1812 Napoleon's frightful war with Russia broke out. Napoleon summoned
the subject and enfeebled German Princes to Dresden. Duke Ernest was
compelled to go, and Leopold also was cited to the gathering, but he went
to Vienna, and then to Italy, to keep out of the way. It would have been
now most dangerous to decline the French service, and he was determined at
all costs not to enter it. "Germany," said he, "was, at the beginning of
1812, in the lowest and most humiliating position; Austria and Prussia
sunk to be auxiliaries; everybody frightened and submissive, except Spain,
supported by England." But Napoleon's reverses in Russia soon followed,
and they electrified all Germany into new courage. The Duke of Coburg
posted off to Berlin to endeavour to stimulate the perplexed, vacillating,
and timorous Prussian King into manly and decided action. The other
brother, Ferdinand, went to Vienna on a similar errand. Leopold hied him
to Munich to stir up the Crown Prince of Bavaria, afterwards King Louis.
They were all moderately successful, and Leopold hastened to Kalisch, in
Poland, being the first German Prince to join the Army of Liberation. He
was equally honoured and gratified by being appointed a Major-General by
the Czar. He was present at the hard-fought but indecisive battles of
Lutzen and Bautzen. There followed an armistice, and a conference at
Prague, with a view to a definite settlement. This the Prince attended. He
was the only person admitted to the presence of the Emperor of Austria,
and spent much of his time with the plenipotentiaries Metternich,
Humboldt, Ansted, Gentz, and others. The negotiations broke off, and
hostilities were resumed. At the decided defeat which the French general
Vandamme sustained, shortly before the crowning victory of Leipsic,
Leopold commanded all the allied cavalry, and distinguished himself the
more that he was the only general in the field who knew the country. He
was present, and in high command, at Leipsic, where Germany was finally
freed. After the fight, the Grand Duke Constantine accompanied him to
Coburg, visiting the relatives of the wife from whom he was now separated,
and who lived and died in retirement in Switzerland. Amongst others they
visited the future Duchess of Kent, then Princess of Leiningen, her first
husband being still alive. Shortly afterwards Constantine and Leopold
rejoined the army in Switzerland, where Leopold tried hard, but
ineffectually, to effect a reconciliation between his sister and her
husband. Leopold subsequently entered Paris at the head of the cavalry;
his eldest brother procured the evacuation of Mayence by its French
garrison. The three brothers all met in Paris, from which Leopold
proceeded, in the suite of the Czar, to the great triumphant gathering of
the Allied Sovereigns in London. Now for the first time he met his future
bride, the Princess Charlotte, only child of the Prince Regent, and heir
to the throne. His splendid continental career already propitiated her,
as it did all the British people, in his favour. The project of a
matrimonial union between the gallant young general and the still more
youthful princess was warmly taken up by the leading men in power,
including Wellington, his brothers, and Castlereagh. The Prince Regent
alone was opposed to the project. He was irritated by his daughter's
repugnance to the Prince of Orange, who was destined by him to be his
son-in-law, and by her recent flight from Carlton House to the residence
of her mother. Leopold, however, decidedly succeeded in winning the
affections of the lady herself, and the nation was delighted at the
project. The Dukes of York and Kent, too, warmly encouraged his suit. On
his return home he found that his youngest sister had been unexpectedly
left a widow, and he arranged the guardianship and pecuniary affairs of
the future mother of England's Queen. At the Congress of Vienna, whither
he went to plead the cause of his brother, his amazing sagacity and tact
induced the negotiators to make a very satisfactory arrangement of
frontier. This he settled, to the great chagrin of Humboldt, the Prussian
envoy, who, with the Prussian Court and people generally, seems to have
been extremely spiteful towards the little principality, their near
neighbour.
[Sidenote: A ROYAL MARRIAGE.]
Leopold was not at Waterloo--fought so near the capital of his future
kingdom. He was posted in Alsace in command of an army of observation,
which, of course, was never needed for action. Leopold went alone to
Paris, with the leave of the Czar, still animated by the purpose of
advancing his brother's pretensions; Prussia having failed to carry out
the rectifications of frontier enacted at Vienna the year before. He
succeeded in this object, and hopes of the highest nature were engendered
about an affair still nearer to his heart. Wellington and Castlereagh
treated him with marked and significant deference. And through the kind
intervention of the good-hearted and simple-minded Duke of Kent, he
received from his ladye-love some pleasant tokens of continued affection
and renewed pledges of staunch fidelity. He was strongly recommended to
repair to England and renew and prosecute his wooing in person; but he
very astutely declined, thinking it unwise to "brave" the Prince Regent.
He went, instead, to Vienna, to act as groomsman at the wedding of his
brother Ferdinand with the great Hungarian heiress whose love he had won;
and from thence to Berlin, persistently to enforce his brother's twice
recognised and sanctioned rights. At Berlin he received a welcome
invitation to England from the Regent, and a most satisfactory letter of
"explanation" from Lord Castlereagh. He arrived in London in February,
1816. Castlereagh at once took him to Brighton, where the Regent was. He
received his daughter's wooer most graciously. The old queen and her three
daughters posted after Leopold from London, and in a family council the
marriage was definitely agreed on. The young couple were married in May,
amid the joyful acclamations of the whole nation.
CHAPTER III.
PARENTAGE AND BIRTH OF QUEEN VICTORIA.
How the Princess Victoria came to be Heiress Presumptive to the
Throne--Death of the Princess Charlotte--Marriages of the Royal
Dukes--Of the Duke of Kent--Birth of the Princess Alexandrina
Victoria--Prediction of George IV.--Death of the Duke of Kent--His
Character--His Liberal Opinions--Public Condolence with the Widow and
Orphan--Early Life of the Duchess of Kent.
[Sidenote: MARRIAGE OF THE DUKE OF KENT.]
On the 6th of November, 1817, the hopes of the nation, which had so fondly
rested upon the happy union between the Princess Charlotte and Prince
Leopold, were fatally blasted by Her Royal Highness's death, shortly after
her delivery of a still-born child. Never in our history was a blow felt
more deeply and personally by all the nation, than this bereavement. The
death of the Princess Charlotte severely and most painfully disappointed
the nation in its general expectation with regard to the much desired
succession to the throne in the person of herself and her heirs. The Duke
of Cumberland, who was hated by all, was the only married younger son of
the king, and there was a general desire that the other royal princes,
especially the popular and estimable Dukes of Kent and Sussex, should seek
out suitable partners. The Duke of Kent rightly felt that the House of
Brunswick was dear to the English people, that the nation had a very
strong desire that the question of succession should be placed beyond
doubt, and that, considering the uncertainty of the chances of life, and
of leaving offspring, it was clearly his duty to marry. Indeed, he had
already, ere the untimely death of his niece, offered his hand and heart
to the widowed Princess of Leiningen. The Princess Charlotte tenderly
loved her uncle Kent, who had done so much to promote the attainment of
the wishes of her own heart, and she did all she could to promote the
marriage of her uncle with the sister of her husband. But the position of
the Princess of Leiningen as guardian of her two children occasioned
delays; and no unimportant matter was the fact that if she re-married, she
would sacrifice a jointure of nearly £5,000 a year, while the Duke of Kent
was punished by the Court for his free and outspoken Liberal opinions by
being restricted to a very meagre pecuniary allowance from the Tory
Parliament. At last, however, all minor difficulties were smoothed over.
On the 13th of May, a message was brought down to Parliament, announcing
that "the Prince Regent had given his consent to a marriage between the
Duke of Kent and Her Serene Highness Mary Louisa Victoria, daughter of the
Duke of Saxe-Coburg-Saalfeld, widow of Enrich Charles, Prince of
Leiningen, and sister of Prince Leopold." Of all the royal marriages, this
was the one which the heart of the country went most thoroughly along
with. The Duke of Kent never disguised--indeed, he openly proclaimed--his
attachment to the principles of the popular party; and the fact of the
close relationship of his intended wife to Prince Leopold was another
strong recommendation. The marriage was celebrated, first according to the
Lutheran rites in Germany, on the 29th May, 1818, and, on the 13th of
July following, by the Archbishop of Canterbury; the Prince Regent, on the
latter occasion, giving away the bride. In the same summer, the Dukes of
Clarence and Cambridge had married. The Duke of Sussex, whose affections
and sympathies were otherwise engaged, declined to contract a foreign
alliance; but he took the liveliest interest in the marriage of his
favourite brother Kent, as he also did in the future welfare and
prosperity of his niece.
[Sidenote: CHRISTENING OF THE PRINCESS VICTORIA.]
After the English marriage, the young couple sojourned for a brief period
at Claremont, the residence which had been selected by the Princess
Charlotte, and which Prince Leopold continued to occupy. They then, guided
chiefly by motives of economy, for their means were very small, travelled
on the Continent, from which they returned for the accouchement of the
Duchess. Both prospective parents were desirous that their child should be
"born a Briton." They arrived at Dover on the 23rd of April, 1819, and on
the 24th of May the Princess Alexandrina Victoria was born at Kensington
Palace. She was born in the presence of the Dukes of Sussex and
Wellington, the Archbishop of Canterbury, the Marquis of Lansdowne, Earl
Bathurst, Mr. Canning, Mr. Vansittart, and the Bishop of London. The Duke
of Kent wept for joy, and the fact that his infant was a daughter did not
in the least degree diminish his delight. The Duchess rapidly recovered,
and the beauty and symmetry of the infant Princess were spoken of with
admiration by all who had an opportunity of observing her. Shortly after
this happy event, the Duke of Kent attended a drawing-room, from which,
and similar Court ceremonies, the estrangement between himself and the
Regent had for some time kept him away. His brother was most affable, and
invited him to dine the next day, when he predicted that his little niece
would be Queen some time. This certainly seemed improbable shortly
afterwards, for Clarence, who was nearer in succession than Kent, became
the father of two daughters by his wife, Adelaide. But they both died
young, thereby opening the succession to the child of the Duke of Kent,
and verifying the Regent's prophecy. The child was christened with great
privacy, on the 24th of June, in the Palace of Kensington. The royal gold
font was fetched from the Tower, and fitted up in the grand saloon of the
palace. Under the direction of the Lord Chamberlain, the draperies were
removed from the Chapel Royal, St. James's. The Archbishop of Canterbury,
assisted by the Bishop of London, administered the holy office; the Prince
Regent, the members of the Royal Family, and other illustrious visitors
were present. The sponsors were the Prince Regent, the Czar Alexander
(represented by the Duke of York as proxy), the Queen Dowager of
Wurtemberg (represented by the Princess Augusta), and the Duchess Dowager
of Coburg (represented by the Duchess of Gloucester). A brilliant evening
party filled the saloons of the happy parents.
The Duke and Duchess still made Claremont their chief home. But the winter
of 1819-20 set in with unusual severity, and they went to Sidmouth, in the
hope of escaping its trying severity. From Sidmouth the Duke made an
excursion to visit Salisbury Cathedral, where he caught a slight cold. On
his return to Sidmouth it became alarming, and the Duchess sent off in
haste to her brother, who was visiting at Lord Craven's. Soon after his
arrival, the Duke breathed his last. While his cold still slightly
affected him, he had gone for a long walk, on the 13th of January, with
Captain Conroy, and had his boots soaked through with wet. He neglected to
change his boots and stockings until he dressed for dinner, being
attracted by the smiles of his infant princess, with whom he sat for some
time playing. Before night he had a sensation of cold and hoarseness, but
the doctors were not alarmed, and merely prescribed mild medicaments and a
good night's rest. But the symptoms of fever rapidly increased, and, in
spite of much blood-letting, he died ten days from the date of the
recurrence of his cold. He met his death with pious resignation. The
Duchess was most indefatigable in her attentions, and personally performed
all the offices of the sick-bed. For five successive nights she never took
off her clothes, and she struggled to prevent his seeing the agony of her
apprehensions, never leaving the bed-side but to give vent to her bursting
sorrow. The presence of her brother was a great comfort to her, both
before and after the moment of death. It was fortunate, indeed, that
Leopold was in this country, "as the poor Duke had left his family
deprived of all means of existence." So did Leopold himself testify many
years afterwards.
[Sidenote: THE DUKE OF KENT.]
The Duke of Kent, although unpopular in his youth on account of his
strictness as a military disciplinarian, became in later days much
beloved. His stature was tall, and his appearance noble and manly. His
manner was engaging, and his conversation animated. He possessed an exact
memory, varied information, a quick and masculine intellect. In many of
his tastes and habits he closely resembled his father. He was an early
riser, and a close economist of time; temperate in eating; though fond of
society, indifferent to wine; a kind master, punctual correspondent, and
exact man of business; a steady friend, and an affectionate brother. He
was peculiarly exempt in his youth from those extravagances and vices with
which the names of some of his brothers were so painfully associated. He
was in his early life, which he spent in active and laborious military
service, a pattern of prudence, economy, and industrious habits. He
incurred no unnecessary expenses, and made few debts, although his annual
allowance was only £1,000 for some years after he had attained his
majority. He delighted in books, education, charity, and the promotion of
all useful arts, and was a model son, husband, and father. He was a
staunch and uncompromising advocate of those liberal opinions which it is
so well known that his daughter inherits, which she displayed so
unreservedly early in her reign, but the prominent expression of which
prudence and constitutional restraints convinced her that it was advisable
to keep in the background, as her mind grew and ripened. The Duke of
Kent's political views will be gathered from the following extract from a
speech at a banquet, in which he replied to the toast of the junior
members of the Royal Family:--"I am a friend of civil and religious
liberty, all the world over. I am an enemy to all religious tests. I am a
supporter of a general system of education. All men are my brethren; and I
hold that power is only delegated for the benefit of the people. These are
the principles of myself and of my beloved brother, the Duke of Sussex.
They are not popular principles just now; that is, they do not conduct to
place or office. _All_ the members of the Royal Family do not hold the
same principles. For this I do not blame them; but we claim for ourselves
the right of thinking and acting as we think best, and we proclaim
ourselves, with our friend Mr. Tierney, 'members of His Majesty's loyal
Opposition.'" These words give a precise and definite idea of the
character of this clear-headed, good-hearted, shrewd, practical, and
unpretending man.
Prince Leopold accompanied his widowed sister and the little orphan from
Sidmouth to Kensington Palace. The weather was most severe, and the
journey a trying one. The Houses of Parliament remembered, with respectful
solicitude, the widowed and isolated state of the Duchess. Both Houses
voted addresses of condolence. That from the Commons was presented by
Lords Morpeth and Clive. She appeared in person, though unable to suppress
her grief, with the infant Victoria in her arms, to receive the
deputation. She presented the babe to the deputed Members, and pointed to
her as the treasure to whose preservation and improvement she was resolved
to dedicate her best energies and fondest love. The interview was
exceedingly touching. A true woman, the Duchess could not conceal the
intensity of her widowed grief; but that did not overshadow her maternal
affection, and she recognised and spoke courageously of her duties, her
responsibilities, and her high resolves. Public feeling and national
anxiety accompanied her into her domestic privacy, and all classes of
society took the deepest interest in all her movements.
[Sidenote: THE DUCHESS OF KENT.]
The Queen, indeed, owes much to her mother, who lived long enough to see
her daughter's grandchildren. The Duchess of Kent had been brought up
under the immediate care and superintendence of her illustrious mother,
whose character we have already described. She had shared the youthful
lessons of her brother Leopold--a source, doubtless of great intellectual
profit. In 1802, when she was but sixteen, much against her own wish, and
only in compliance with the entreaties of her beloved father--who wished
to see his only surviving daughter married, in such troublesome times, ere
the end of his precarious and sickly life came--she became the wife of the
Prince of Leiningen, a man eight-and-twenty years her senior. The union
was most inappropriate and unwise. Her husband was repugnant in person and
manners. He failed either to secure her confidence or contribute to her
happiness. Yet she fulfilled her duties as a wife and mother in so
exemplary a manner, from her marriage to her husband's death, in 1814,
that the breath of slander never sullied her fair fame. Indeed, by the
purity of her life, the manner in which she discharged her maternal
duties, and the graceful suavity of her manners, she did much to ennoble
the character of the House of Leiningen, which her husband had done much
to lower. Her marriage with the Duke of Kent was one of unmistakable
affection, and was a very happy one. Their tastes were similar; but her
meekness and tact had a beneficial influence in mitigating a certain stern
and abrupt brusqueness which he partly inherited from his father, and
partly derived from the camps and garrison towns in which his youth was
spent. The simplicity and tender unaffectedness of her manners--a
peculiarity distinctive of the highest class of well-bred German
women--and her fascinating combination of gentleness with gaiety, not
only won and bound, by daily increasing ties, the affections of her
husband, but of all those who had the good fortune to become personally
acquainted with her admirable life and disposition.
CHAPTER IV.
FIRST YEARS OF CHILDHOOD.
Old Memories of Kensington Palace--Enlargements of the Structure by
William III., Anne, Queen Caroline, and the Duke of Sussex--Maids of
Honour--Rank and Beauty in the Gardens--Wilberforce and the Infant
Princess--Victoria at Ramsgate--A Picture of Victoria when Five Years
old--Her Physical Training--Popularity as a Child--Her Youthful
Charities--A Narrow Escape from Death--Early Development of Quick
Intelligence--Anecdotes--Love of Nature--Proneness to Self-will--But
Counterbalanced by Candour--Waggishness--A Portrait of the
Child-Princess by Leigh Hunt.
The infancy, girlhood, and budding womanhood of the Princess Victoria were
chiefly spent at the Royal Palace of Kensington. It was her mother's fixed
residence, but the family were much at Claremont, where the Queen
testifies that she spent the happiest days of her childhood. There were
frequent trips made, too, to various watering-places; and, as the Princess
grew in years, visits were paid at the country houses of some of the
nobility. Leigh Hunt, in his exquisite book of gossip entitled "The Old
Court Suburb," thus happily describes the more salient and prominent
features of the somewhat sombre region of the Queen's up-bringing:--
In vain we are told that Wren is supposed to have built the south
front, and Kent (a man famous in his time) the east front. We can no
more get up any enthusiasm about it as a building, than if it were a
box or a piece of cheese. But it possesses a Dutch solidity; it can
be imagined full of English comfort; it is quiet; in a good air; and,
though it is a palace, no tragical history is connected with it: all
which considerations give it a sort of homely, fireside character,
which seems to represent the domestic side of royalty itself, and thus
renders an interesting service to what is not always so well
recommended by cost and splendour. Windsor Castle is a place to
receive monarchs in; Buckingham Palace to see fashion in; Kensington
Palace seems a place to drink tea in: and this is by no means a state
of things in which the idea of royalty comes least home to the good
wishes of its subjects. The reigns that flourished here, appositely
enough to this notion of the building, were all tea-drinking
reigns--at least on the part of the ladies; and if the present Queen
does not reign there, she was born and bred there, growing up quietly
under the care of a domestic mother; during which time, the
pedestrian, as he now goes quietly along the gardens, fancies no
harsher sound to have been heard from the Palace windows than the
"tuning of the tea-things," or the sound of a pianoforte.
[Sidenote: KENSINGTON PALACE.]
The associations of Kensington Palace are almost entirely with the earlier
Hanoverian reigns; the later Georges neglected it. Rumour hath it that
this royal domain originated in the establishment of a nursery for the
children of Henry VIII. If it were so, Elizabeth and Victoria must have
been brought up on the same spot; but the tradition is not well supported.
Its first ascertained proprietor was Heneage Finch, Speaker of the House
of Commons at the accession of the First Charles, who built and occupied
only a small nucleus of the present structure, which was enlarged from
time to time by most of its successive occupants, but with no pretension,
and without much plan. From the second Earl of Nottingham, the grandson of
Finch, William III. bought the house and grounds. The latter he enlarged
to the extent of twenty-six acres. To these Anne added thirty, and to
these in turn Queen Caroline, wife of George II., added three hundred.
The house had been the while proportionately growing. Its last expansion
was contributed by the Duke of Sussex.
The gardens were pedantically squared to Dutch uniformity by William of
Orange, and the semblance of a Court which he held in this Palace was
correspondingly gloomy and dismal. The most singular visitor ever received
by William was the Czar Peter, who drove hither _incognito_ in a hackney
coach, on his arrival in London, and was afterwards entertained here with
some slight show of state. In Anne's time, the palace and gardens were
little livelier than in William's. The Queen hedged herself in behind
absurd _chevaux-de-frise_ of etiquette, and the court chroniclers of the
period record little else than eating and drinking. Swift and Prior,
Bolingbroke and Marlborough, Addison and Steele, nevertheless, lent
occasional gleams of brightness and dignity to the otherwise sombre scene.
The most fascinating and memorable association of Kensington Palace is in
connection with the Courts of the first two Georges, and of the son of the
latter, Frederick Prince of Wales. These associations are specially
connected with the bevies of frolicsome, and sometimes frail, maids of
honour, who now live in the pages of Pope and Gay, of Hervey and Walpole.
Chief among them was the gay, sprightly, and irresistible Molly Leppell,
who resisted, in a manner equally indignant and comical, the degrading
overtures of the coarse-souled George II. She married Hervey, the most
effeminate and egregious dandy of his time. Chesterfield thus toasted her
in a ballad on the beauties of the Court;--
Oh! if I had Bremen and Varden,
And likewise the Duchy of Zell,
I'd part with them all for a farden,
To have my dear Molly Leppell.
Caroline of Anspach, consort of Frederick, Prince of Wales, introduced the
habit of promenading in gorgeous costume in the gardens, first on
Saturday, then on Sunday, afternoons. By degrees the quality were admitted
as well as the royal family and their immediate attendants. The liberty
was gradually extended to the general public. Hence it was that Kensington
Gardens became in time as open to all comers as are the royal parks. These
gorgeous promenades ceased with the commencement of the last malady of
George III. It was in allusion to the stately train of attendant beauties
who accompanied the Princess Caroline of Wales, that Tickell wrote--
Each walk, with robes of various dyes bespread,
Seems from afar a moving tulip bed,
Where rich brocades and glossy damasks glow,
And chintz, the rival of the showery bow.
Here England's Daughter, darling of the land,
Sometimes, surrounded with her virgin band,
Gleams through the shades. She, towering o'er the rest,
Stands fairest of the fairer kind confess'd;
Form'd to gain hearts that Brunswick's cause denied,
And charm a people to her father's side.
With the death of George II., the glory departed from Kensington. No
future English King favoured or frequented it. George III. never resided
in the Palace, and it was altogether too dull and homely for his eldest
son. He was willing enough that his bookish brother Sussex, and his steady
brother Kent, should abide in it; and, as one writer puts it, depicting
the "first gentleman in Europe" in a light far from pleasing, but for the
use of which we fear there was too much foundation--"He was well content
to think that the staid-looking house and formal gardens rendered the spot
a good out-of-the-way sort of place enough, for obscuring the growth and
breeding of his niece and probable heiress, the Princess Victoria, whose
life, under the guidance of a wise mother, promised to furnish so
estimable a contrast to his own."
[Sidenote: WILBERFORCE AND THE PRINCESS.]
It was in the rooms, rich with such varied associations as those, some few
of which we have cited, and surrounded by the remarkable collection of
pictures, chiefly by Byzantine and early German painters--that England's
future Queen grew up from babyhood to womanhood. Amongst the very earliest
notices of the infant Princess is the following, which we cite from a
letter written by Wilberforce to his friend, Hannah More, on the 21st
July, 1820. He says:--
In consequence of a very civil message from the Duchess of Kent, I
waited on her this morning. She received me with her fine animated
child on the floor by her side, with its playthings, of which I soon
became one. She was very civil; but, as she did not sit down, I did
not think it right to stay above a quarter of an hour; and there being
but a female attendant and footman present, I could not well get up
any topic, so as to carry on a continued discourse. She apologised for
not speaking English well enough to talk it; but intimated a hope that
she might talk it better and longer with me at some future time. She
spoke of her situation [this was, probably, in reference to the cold
treatment of her and hers by George IV.], and her manner was quite
delightful.
Four years later, the Duchess and the little Princess paid one of many
visits to Ramsgate: and it would appear that the Duchess of Kent had
already succeeded in being able to talk English "better and longer" with
Wilberforce "at some future time;" for an eye-witness, who was familiar
with all the group, witnessed the following scene. It was a fine summer
day: too warm anywhere but on the shore of the sea, the breeze from which
sufficiently moderated the temperature. A little girl, with a fair, light
form, was sporting on the sands in all the redolence of youth and health.
Her dress was simple--plain straw bonnet, with a white riband round the
crown, a coloured muslin frock, and "as pretty a pair of shoes, on as
pretty a pair of feet, as I ever remember to have seen from China to
Kamschatka"--so testifies the authority from whom we quote. The child had
two companions--her mother and William Wilberforce. The latter looked as
lovingly on the child as did her mother. His kindly eye followed with
tender interest her every footstep, and he was evidently meditating on the
great destiny which was in store for her, when her mother, less
meditative, more concerned with the affairs of the present, suddenly
observed that her daughter had got her shoe's wetted by a breaker. She
waved her hand, and Victoria, obedient to the signal, at once rejoined her
mother and her friend. Perhaps another motive might have been at work in
the mother's breast; for immediately the child had joined the elders,
Wilberforce took her hand in both of his, and addressed to her some kindly
words, doubtless of excellent counsel, for the blue eyes of the girl
looked fixedly at her venerable instructor, and the devoted mother glanced
from one to the other, evidently interested and affected by the contrast.
Wilberforce was no wearisome restrainer of the buoyancy of youth; a few
minutes later, he and his young companion were standing at the margin of
the tide, watching the encroachments of each new breaker, and the
dexterity with which a pet Newfoundland dog brought bits of stick out of
the waves.
[Sidenote: MORAL TRAINING.]
During the earliest years of her childhood, Victoria does not seem to have
been harassed with book-learning--a most wise and excellent omission. In
1823, the Dowager Duchess of Coburg wrote to her daughter--"Do not yet
tease your little puss with learning; she is so young still." The Queen's
mother followed the good advice; it was the cultivation of the heart of
her child at which she first strove. Above everything, any approach to
pride or hauteur was discouraged. The convictions equally with the natural
temperament of the Duchess, led her to regard such a quality as specially
to be avoided. She was trained to be courteous, affable, lively, and to
put social inferiors perfectly at their ease. In her juvenile sea-side and
other excursions, it was constantly observed by every one that the faces
of the bathing-women, and others of the same class, whose services were
needed, lighted up with genuine, unaffected gladness whenever the young
Princess appeared. The following little picture deserves to be reproduced,
without tampering with the colours of its portrayer:--"As she proceeded up
the High Street from the sands, there sat on the low step of a closed shop
an aged Irishwoman, pale, wan, dejected, sorrowful, her head bent forward,
and whilst all nature was gay, she looked sickly, sad, and famishing.
Whether she was too depressed to beg, or too exhausted at that moment to
make the effort, I cannot tell, but she asked for no alms, and even
looked not at the passers-by. The young Princess was attracted by her
appearance, and spoke to the Duchess: 'I think not,' were the only words I
heard from her mamma; and, 'Oh, yes, indeed!' was all I could catch of the
youthful reply. I have no doubt the Duchess thought the old woman was not
in need of relief, or would be offended by the offer of alms; but the
Princess had looked under her bonnet, and gained a better insight into her
condition. There was a momentary pause; the Princess ran back a few steps
most nimbly, and with a smile of heartfelt delight placed some silver in
the hands of the old Irishwoman. Tall and stately was the poor creature,
and as she rose slowly with clasped hands and riveted features, she
implored the blessing of Heaven on the 'English lady.' She was so taken by
surprise by this unexpected mark of beneficence on the part of she knew
not whom, that she turned over her sixpences again and again, thanked the
Virgin, as well as the 'young lady,' a thousand times, and related to
those who stopped to hear her exclamations, the 'good luck' that had come
upon her."
[Sidenote: THE QUEEN'S CHILDHOOD.]
While still not a year old, and ere her father's death, the intensity of
interest which the people took in the safety and welfare of the Princess
had been strongly displayed in the universal satisfaction which was
expressed at her providential escape from being wounded, if not killed, in
consequence of some boys shooting at birds near the temporary residence of
the Duke at Sidmouth. Some of the shots penetrated the window of the
nursery, and passed very near the child's head. This universal interest
became yet deeper, when, after the lapse of two or three years, both of
the daughters of the Duke of Clarence having died, and there being no
probability of any issue in the line of either the Dukes of York or
Clarence, she became the eventual successor to the throne, in the event of
the deaths of these two elder brothers of her father. It was now learned
with delight that she passed through the ordinary maladies of childhood
favourably, and that her recovery from them was speedy. The public had
ample opportunities afforded them of observing her growing and healthful
strength; and all commented with pleasure upon the circumstance that she
was not kept secluded from the view and observation of the people, that
her rides and walks were generally in public, that she was growing up
towards maturity in the sight of the nation, and as the child of the
country. It was further a matter of great general rejoicing that those who
were selected, even from the earliest period, to surround her person were
of the most irreproachable character, and that moral worth was sought for
in her preceptors even more than brilliant attainments.
It is especially worthy of notice that the Duke and Duchess of Clarence,
their hearts not being made in the slightest degree callous or soured by
their own melancholy bereavements and the disappointment of their fondest
hopes, formed and displayed for their niece a sincere and warm attachment.
They took from the very first the warmest interest in all her vicissitudes
and illnesses; and when they became King and Queen their elevated
positions only seemed to increase the warmth of their regard, and the
copious flow of their practical kindness. It was, therefore, no wonder
that when, under Providence, Victoria became Queen she treated the Queen
Dowager with most unequivocal respect and esteem, regarding her
suggestions with deference, and her wishes with loving compliance.
Spite of many sinister rumours, the Princess grew up strong and vigorous.
Her mother was especially careful to fortify her constitution, and so to
prepare it to encounter the hard work and manifold anxiety which are the
inevitable lot of a British sovereign. Many there were--some of them with
ends of their own to gain--who kept prophesying that "the daughter of the
Duke of Kent would never attain her legal majority;" or, that "she would
never marry;" again, that "she could never become the mother of a family."
Much alarm was caused by these prognostications. For one thing was above
all others ardently desired by the nation--that the Duke of Cumberland,
who stood next in succession after the Princess, should never become King
of England. Even if he had not been an object of something more than
suspicion, it was universally desired that England should never again
(after King William's death) be united with Hanover under one monarch. But
as facts became known by degrees about the Princess, as her healthy face
and agile frame became familiar in London, and in many parts of the land,
the apprehensions died away, and the "frail, delicate, sickly child,"
whose fabricated ailments had been made the subject of so much sham
sympathy, was looked upon as a fabulous invention.
[Sidenote: LEARNING TO READ.]
It soon became known that her physical and mental characteristics were of
a nature directly the opposite of what had been so industriously reported.
She was extremely active, and had a healthy love of sports and games. She
had an inquiring mind, not only restless in the pursuit, but clear in the
comprehension of knowledge. She soon developed, too, much decision of
character. Seemingly incapable of fatigue, she was the first to begin, and
the last to leave off, a study, a romp, a game, a new duty, and equally
eager to resume an old occupation. This peculiarity, it was gladly
observed, was an inheritance from her father; but her mother also set her
a congenial example of industry and perseverance. Such stories as the
following were gleefully passed throughout the land from lip to lip. While
she was learning her alphabet, she, doubtful of the utility of being so
tormented, ejaculated--"What good this?--what good this?" She was told
that "mamma could know all that was contained in the great book on the
table because she knew _her_ letters, whilst the little daughter could
not." This was quite enough, and the young acolyte of the alphabet cried
out, "I learn, too--I learn, too--very quick." And she did become rapidly
mistress of her letters. Her mother sought to teach her to be satisfied
with simple pleasures, and here she was a most apt pupil. Once, when she
was so young that she could not express what she felt, she dragged her
uncle Clarence to the window to observe a beautiful sunset. To her uncle
Leopold, too, she was constantly pointing out objects of natural beauty,
on which he invariably improved the opportunity by giving her prompt and
clear explanations of the phenomena which evoked her admiration. Her
engrossing passion, indeed--as was that of her future husband--was for
cabinets of natural history, menageries, museums, &c. For pictures she had
an equal love, and one of the first acquirements in which she became
proficient was sketching from nature.
Perhaps the greatest danger she incurred, and the one which her mother had
to take the greatest pains to avert, was the likelihood that her
independent decision of character, which she derived from the Hanoverian
half of her ancestry, might degenerate into stubbornness and self-will.
But her natural sense of justice, and ready openness to clear conviction,
proved an admirable counterpoise. With peculiar ingenuousness of
character, she unreservedly admitted an error the very instant she
perceived it. Once, for example, when on a visit to Earl Fitzwilliam, a
bosom friend of her father, the party were walking in the grounds, and she
had run on in advance. An under-gardener cautioned her not to go down a
certain walk, as, said he, in his provincial dialect, the rain had made
the ground "slape." "Slape! slape!" cried she, rapidly, and in the true
George III. style; "and pray, what is 'slape?'" "Very slippery, miss--your
Royal Highness--ma'am," replied he. "Oh! that's all," she replied; "thank
you," and at once proceeded. She had not advanced many yards, when she
came down heavily to the ground. The Earl had been observing all that had
passed, from a few yards' distance, and he cried out, "There! now your
Royal Highness has an explanation of the term 'slape,' both theoretically
and practically." "Yes, my lord," she somewhat meekly said, "I think I
have. I shall never forget the word 'slape.'" On a similar occasion, when
cautioned not to frolic with a dog whose temper was not very reliable, she
persisted in doing so, and he made a snap at her hand. Her cautioner ran
solicitously, believing that she had been bitten. "Oh, thank you! thank
you!" said she. "You're right, and I am wrong; but he didn't bite me--he
only warned me. I shall be careful in future."
[Sidenote: JUVENILE ANECDOTES.]
The following incident shows that at least on some occasions a keen spirit
of waggishness entered strongly into her self-will. When first she took
lessons on the piano, she objected strongly to the monotonous fingering,
as she had formerly done to A B C. She was, of course, informed that all
success as a musician depended upon her first becoming "mistress of the
piano."
"Oh, I am to be mistress of my piano, am I?" asked she. To that the reply
was a repetition of the statement.
"Then what would you think of me if I became mistress at once?"
"That would be impossible. There is no royal road to music. Experience and
great practice are essential."
"Oh, there is no royal road to music, eh? No royal road? And I am not
mistress of my pianoforte? But I will be, I assure you; and the royal road
is this"--at the same time closing the piano, locking it, and taking the
key--"There! that's being mistress of the piano! and the royal road to
learning is, never to take a lesson till you're in the humour to do it."
After the laugh which her joke had provoked in herself and others had
subsided, she at once volunteered to resume the lesson.
We cannot more fitly conclude this chapter, ere we proceed to travel an
important stage further in our attempt to trace the youthful days of the
Queen, than by presenting a picture of her, as she appeared at this period
of her life to the genial eyes of Leigh Hunt, to whom we have been
already indebted at the commencement of this chapter:--
We remember well the peculiar kind of personal pleasure which it gave
us to see the future Queen, the first time we ever did see her, coming
up a cross path from the Bayswater Gate, with a girl of her own age by
her side, whose hand she was holding, as if she loved her. It brought
to our mind the warmth of our own juvenile friendships, and made us
fancy that she loved everything else that we had loved in like
measure--books, trees, verses, Arabian tales, and the good mother who
had helped to make her so affectionate. A magnificent footman, in
scarlet, came behind her, with the splendidest pair of calves, in
white stockings, that we had ever beheld. He looked somehow like a
gigantic fairy, personating, for his little lady's sake, the grandest
footman he could think of; and his calves he seemed to have made out
of a couple of the biggest chaise-lamps in the possession of the
godmother of Cinderella. As the Princess grew up, the world seemed
never to hear of her except as it wished to hear--that is to say, in
connection with her mother; and now it never hears of her but in
connection with children of her own, and her husband, and her mother
still [this was written in 1855], and all good household pleasures and
hospitalities, and public virtues of a piece with them. May life ever
continue to appear to her what, indeed, it really is to all who have
eyes for seeing beyond the surface--namely, a wondrous fairy scene,
strange, beautiful, mournful too, yet hopeful of being "happy ever
after," when its story is over; and wise, meantime, in seeing much
where others see nothing, in shedding its tears patiently, and in
doing its best to diminish the tears around it.
CHAPTER V.
EDUCATION OF THE PRINCESS VICTORIA.
Additional Grant by Parliament for the Maintenance and Education of
the Princess--Wise Lessons learned at her Mother's Knees--A Visit to
George IV. at Windsor--Assiduous Pursuit of Knowledge--Accession of
William IV.--Victoria becomes next in succession to the Crown--Regency
Bill--Satisfaction of the good Grandmother at Coburg--Her Death--Joy
of Victoria at the Elevation of her Uncle to the Belgian
Throne--Parliamentary Inquiry into the Progress of her
Education--Satisfactory Report in Response--Presented at Court--Great
Ball on her Twelfth Birthday at St. James's Palace--Court Scandal and
Baseless Rumours--The Duchess of Northumberland appointed
Governess--The Princess and the Poet Southey.
The time had now arrived when, in the opinion, not only of the private
friends of the Duchess of Kent, but of the Ministers of the Crown, it was
held that a more liberal provision should be made for the increasing cost
of the training of the Princess, than the very moderate annual allowance
which the Duchess of Kent had as yet received. This matter was formally
brought before Parliament on the occasion of the Princess attaining her
sixth birthday. Up to this date, and for some little time subsequently to
it, King George IV. seems to have hardly paid the slightest heed to his
niece and ultimate successor. On her fifth birthday, Prince Leopold, who
throughout filled a true father's place, gave a banquet in her honour, at
which most of the members of the English Royal Family, and the Prince
Leiningen, son of the Duchess of Kent and half-brother of Victoria, were
present. On this occasion, the child was much admired for her frankness,
quickness, and talent, but especially for her deep attachment to her
mother. Her mother took occasion to impress upon her the consideration
that such attentions as those which were then shown her were rendered in
the hope that she would cultivate the qualities and graces which alone
could make her a worthy and acceptable ruler of the British empire. "It is
not you," said she, "but your future office and rank which are regarded by
the country; and you must so act as never to bring that office and that
rank into disgrace or disrespect." And when the Duchess took her child to
see for the first time the statue which had just been erected at the top
of Portland Place to her father's memory, she was careful to make her know
and feel that "dear papa's likeness was placed there, not merely because
he was a prince, but because he was a good man, was kind to the poor,
caused little boys and girls to be taught to read and write, helped to get
money from good people to cure the sick, the lame, the blind, the deaf,
and did all he could to make bad people good."
In May, 1825, the sixth birthday of the Princess arrived. It became
desirable, not merely to extend the sphere of her knowledge, but to
introduce her to society at unavoidable expense; and, when she appeared in
public and took trips in the country, to surround her with some of the
splendour which properly belonged to her position. Accordingly, Lord
Liverpool, the Premier, presented a Message from the King, requesting that
some provision should be made for the Princess. His lordship spoke in the
highest terms of the Duchess of Kent; eulogised her for having supported
and educated her daughter without making any application to Parliament;
and demonstrated, that her education must, from that date, be much more
wide and costly. He proposed an additional grant of £6,000 per annum to
the Duchess, to continue throughout the minority of her daughter. The
House of Lords cordially acquiesced in the proposal. In the Lower House,
Mr. Brougham, although uniting mother and daughter in one common eulogy,
objected to the amount proposed. Mr. Hume supported him, suggesting an
annuity increasing from year to year; but, on a division, the original
proposal was carried by a majority of fifty.
[Sidenote: GEORGE IV. AND THE PRINCESS VICTORIA.]
Only after this formal act of national recognition does it appear that the
King deigned to turn his personal attention in the direction of his niece.
The year after, we find the Duchess of Coburg writing to her daughter, and
referring to the fact that she had seen by the English papers, that "His
Majesty, Her Royal Highness the Duchess of Kent, and the Princess
Victoria, went on Virginia Water." "The little monkey," she writes, "must
have pleased him. She is such a pretty, clever child." It was reported at
the time that the King, on the occasion of this visit to Windsor, shared
the general delight at the intelligence and sprightliness of his charming
little niece. He caused her to dine in state with him, and when he asked
her what tune she would like the band to play during dinner, she
courteously and naïvely replied, "God save the King."
The years intervening until 1830 were passed in almost complete quietude
and seclusion by the Princess; her education being now most assiduously
pursued.
The year 1830 made an important difference in the position of the
Princess. By the death of George IV., the Duke of Clarence became King,
and--the Duke of York having died in 1827--she now stood next in direct
succession to the throne. In the last month of the year a Regency Bill was
passed, of which these were the chief provisions:--In the event of Queen
Adelaide bearing a posthumous child, Her Majesty should be guardian and
Regent during the minority. If that event should not occur, the Duchess of
Kent was to be guardian and Regent during the minority of her daughter,
the Princess Victoria, the heiress-presumptive. That Princess should not
marry while a minor, without the consent of the King; or, if he died,
without the consent of both Houses. When the Report of the Regency Bill
was brought up, Lord Lyndhurst moved and carried a clause to the effect
that in case the Duchess of Kent should marry a foreigner in the lifetime
of His Majesty, but without his consent, she should, by that act, forfeit
all pretensions to the Regency.
The Duke of Buckingham, in his "Courts and Cabinets of William IV. and
Victoria," thus remarked on this proviso:--
The position of the Princess attracted towards her Royal Highness the
solicitude and sympathy of all classes of the people. A proper
consideration of her chance of succeeding to the throne showed that
there was much at stake, and the bitter disappointment caused by the
untimely fate of the last female heiress presumptive, gave deeper
feeling to the interest with which she was regarded. It was desirable
that her youth should be, as much as possible, watched over to protect
it from all evil contingencies, and though there could not be a better
guardian for the Princess than the one nature had provided her with,
the anxiety of a nation demanded precautions that, under other
circumstances, would have been considered totally unnecessary. We can
now (1861) afford to smile on the jealous affection with which Her
Royal Highness was fenced round thirty years ago.
[Sidenote: THE QUEEN'S GRANDMOTHER.]
The satisfactory settlement of the Regency question gave great
satisfaction to the good grandmother at Coburg. She wrote to her daughter,
on receipt of the news--
I should have been sorry if the Regency had been given into other
hands than yours. It would not have been a just return for your
constant devotion and care to your child, if this had not been done.
May God give you wisdom and strength to do your duty, if called upon
to undertake it. May God bless and protect my little darling!--If I
could but once see her again! The print you have sent to me is not
like the dear picture I have; the quantity of curls hide the
well-shaped head, and make it look too large for the lovely little
figure.
It was not fated that the Duchess of Coburg should ever see her
granddaughter again; she died within a twelvemonth of writing the above.
Her latest letters to her daughter were characterised by a peculiar warmth
of affection for the Princess. Writing in the summer of 1830, on the
occasion of Victoria's birthday, she said--
My blessings and good wishes for the day which gave you the sweet
Blossom of May! May God preserve and protect the valuable life of that
lovely flower from all the dangers that will beset her mind and heart!
And when the news of the death of George IV. reached her, she wrote--
God bless Old England, where my beloved children live, and where the
sweet Blossom of May may one day reign! May God yet for many years
keep the weight of a crown from her young head, and let the
intelligent, clever child grow up to girlhood, before this dangerous
grandeur devolves upon her!
England owes a deep debt of gratitude to this excellent and intelligent
woman, for to her we are indebted for that training of her daughter, which
fitted that daughter to train in turn, for us and for our advantage, Queen
Victoria.
An event of considerable influence upon the well-being and happiness of
the Queen we must not omit to chronicle, ere we pass onwards in the course
of our narrative. Prince Leopold had been designated by the great
guaranteeing Powers as the ruler of the newly emancipated state of Greece.
He was prepared to accept the position. This distressed his niece, who had
been brought up under his kindly tutelage from her birth; but
circumstances which it does not concern our purpose to dwell upon, induced
Leopold to break off the Greek negotiation. Shortly after, to the great
delight of Victoria, he was nominated by the Powers, and accepted by his
future subjects, as King of the Belgians. This ensured his being
constantly comparatively near to his niece. How frequent were his visits
to England, as long as his life lasted, no resident in London needs to be
informed; up till within the last few years, his face was almost as
familiar in the parks as those of the members of the Queen's own family.
He often appeared in London suddenly, and without announcement, having
been summoned, it was generally believed, on such occasions, to consult
with the Queen on some point of imminent moment. Such summonses he always
responded to with instant alacrity.
[Sidenote: ABSURD RUMOURS.]
In the year 1831, the public became anxious to know how the education of
the heiress-presumptive to the throne progressed; what was the nature of
her studies, and which she preferred and most diligently pursued. Prompt,
responsive, and satisfactory statements were rendered. It appeared that
since the accession of King William, her tuition had been almost entirely
entrusted to English teachers. Mr. Amos instructed her in the principles
of the English Constitution, Mr. Westall in drawing; she had made
considerable progress in Latin, and could read Horace with fluency. It was
further stated that her love of music was enthusiastic, and that it was
the orchestral rather than the dramatic attraction that caused her to
frequent the theatres so much as she did. It was remarked that, on the
occasion of the coronation of William IV., which took place on the 8th of
September, neither the Princess nor her mother were present. Their absence
was explained by the announcement, that the health of the Princess
rendered a sojourn in the Isle of Wight necessary. Prudent persons held
that, even had it been otherwise, her tender years and peculiar position
rendered her absence preferable to her presence. She was but twelve years
old, and it was commonly stated that only a year before had it been deemed
wise _fully_ to make her aware of the regal destiny which was before her.
Gossip-mongers--a whole host of whom circulated the most absurd rumours
about the Princess from her most tender years until long after she had
become Queen--alleged that the real reason of her absence was the fact
that her proper place in the ceremony was not assigned to her. The real
truth we believe to have been as follows. Since the accession of her uncle
Clarence, Victoria had been plunged into a round of gaiety which did not
at all comport either with her years or a certain fragility of health,
which now for a short time succeeded the fine animal power and spirits of
the years preceding. She had been presented at the first drawing-room held
by Queen Adelaide, the most magnificent that had been held since the
presentation of Charlotte, Princess of Wales, on the occasion of her
marriage. This was her first appearance in state. She arrived with her
mother, attended by the Duchess of Northumberland, Lady Charlotte St.
Maur, Lady Catherine Jenkinson, the Honourable Mrs. Cust, Lady Conroy, the
Baroness Lehzen, Sir J. Conroy, and General Wetherall. Her dress was made
entirely of articles manufactured in Great Britain, and consisted of a
simple, modest, and becoming blonde frock. She was the great object of
interest present, stood on the left of the King, and contemplated the
_élite_ of her future subjects with a dignified amiability which charmed
every one. On her twelfth birthday, in the same year, she was overwhelmed
with presents; amongst others, two beautiful ponies, presented by the
Duchess of Gordon, which became especial pets. The Queen gave a juvenile
ball in her honour, which Queen Victoria has often talked of in later
times, as the scene which of all others made the deepest impression on her
childish imagination. Spite of all this, and of the notorious and profuse
kindness with which the King and Queen Adelaide had always treated her,
many were found to believe that they were jealous of, and meant to slight
her. The truth was, that the Duchess of Northumberland, who, at the
suggestion of the King himself, had been appointed to the high and
important office of governess to the Princess, began to be alarmed at the
consequences of so much festivity and excitement. She objected to her
frequent attendance at drawing-rooms, and also recommended absence from
the fatiguing coronation ceremony.
[Sidenote: THE PRINCESS AND SOUTHEY.]
The selection of this lady for the important office which she filled was a
wise one, and the public judgment approved it. She possessed great
personal attractions, mental powers of unusual range, and the highest
rank. The appointment was by no means a nominal one, or one merely of
state. Her visits to Kensington Palace were constant, and she frequently
remained there all day. On one occasion, while her Grace was instructing
her pupil, Southey called, and was greeted by the Princess and the
_gouvernante_ very warmly. He conversed for some time with the ladies;
first on poetry, then on history. He afterwards used to state with pride,
that the Princess told him that she read his prose and poetical
compositions with equal delight. The "Life of Nelson" especially charmed
her. "That," she said, "is a delightful book indeed; and I am sure I could
read it half a dozen times over." The gossip-mongers also alleged that the
Duchess endeavoured to give a political bias to the education of the
Princess. Some uneasiness was created at this. But when the matter was
properly inquired into, it was ascertained that, neither in the selection
of books to be studied, nor in the remarks made upon their text, was the
slightest party colour given to the education of the royal pupil of the
Duchess. It was while under the care of this lady that the Princess
acquired her well-known admirable horsemanship. To Fozard, the best
riding-master of the day, was entrusted her tuition in riding. She soon
became distinguished by the ease of her carriage, and her truly royal air
and demeanour. This was a common subject of admiring remark by
distinguished foreigners; amongst others, by Count Orloff, to whom, in
1832, the Duchess of Kent gave a splendid banquet. The Princess, after she
was removed from the active care of the Duchess of Northumberland, gave
the best proof of her gratitude and sense of the services she had rendered
her, by keeping up with her Grace a constant epistolary correspondence.
Wherever she went, in the many tours through England which she made while
passing through her teens, she wrote letters to the Duchess describing
whatever interested and instructed her in what she saw. This
correspondence was really a voluntary continuation of her education.
CHAPTER VI
THE PRINCESS IN HER TEENS.
Visits paid to many parts of England--Love of Cathedrals and Church
Music--Trip to North Wales and the Midland Counties--Visit to a Cotton
Mill--To Oxford--Gala Day at Southampton--Interview with the Young
Queen of Portugal--Confirmation of the Princess--Tour to the
North--York Musical Festival--At Ramsgate with the King of the
Belgians--A Noble Deed at Tunbridge Wells.
In the year subsequent to the coronation of King William, the Duchess of
Kent and her daughter spent much time in making visits to various parts of
England. We have already seen that they were in the Isle of Wight at the
date of the coronation. The same year, they spent some time at Worthing,
and visited Lord Liverpool and his daughters at Buxted Park, whence they
proceeded to Malvern, where their liberal relief of distress caused them
to be much beloved. While at Malvern, they visited the cathedral at
Worcester. Cathedrals were especial favourites with the Princess, and
Church music gratified her as much as ecclesiastical architecture. To the
public institutions of the cathedral cities which she visited she was an
invariable benefactress, and willingly beggared herself of all her
pocket-money that she might be the better able to meet the demands of art,
science, literature, and poverty upon her benevolence. This year they also
visited Hereford and Bath, and were magnificently entertained by the Earls
Somers and Beauchamp, at Eastnor Castle and Maddresfield Court.
[Sidenote: AN AUTUMNAL TOUR.]
In 1831, they sojourned for a time at Claremont, in the Isle of Wight, and
at Weymouth. The next year chronicled a more extensive autumnal tour than
any hitherto undertaken. To North Wales they repaired first. Having seen
its romantic beauties, they reached the ancient city of Chester on the
17th of October and on entering the cathedral were respectfully received
and courteously addressed by the Bishop. The Duchess of Kent thus replied
to the welcome of the Prelate:--"I cannot better allude to your good
feeling towards the Princess than by joining fervently in the wish that
she may set an example in her conduct of that piety towards God, and
charity towards man, which is the only sure foundation either of
individual happiness or national prosperity." From Chester they proceeded
to Eaton Hall, the palatial residence of the Grosvenors and thence to
Chatsworth, the still more splendid abode of the Cavendish family. From
Chatsworth they went to Belper, where they examined the cotton mills of
the Messrs. Strutt, and were most cordially received by the numerous
factory hands. Mr. James Strutt, by means of a model, explained to the
Princess the several processes of cotton-spinning, which she listened to
with keen attention and ready apprehension. The Queen retained a lively
and fragrant recollection of this visit; and, years after, she created the
son of her _cicerone_ a peer, by the title of Lord Belper. The week
following they visited Hardwicke Hall, Chesterfield, and Matlock. Thence
they proceeded to Shugborough, the seat of the Earl of Lichfield. Their
next honoured entertainer was the Earl of Shrewsbury, at Alton Towers.
While there, they visited Lichfield Cathedral and graciously received
congratulatory addresses from the clergy and corporation. Their next stage
was the seat of Lord Liverpool, who was one of the staunchest friends of
the Duchess of Kent, of whom his daughter, Lady Catherine Jenkinson, was
one of the Ladies-in-waiting. Proceeding homewards, they honoured with
successive visits Earl Powis, the Hon. R. H. Clive, M.P., the Earls of
Plymouth and Abingdon. From the seat of the latter they went to Oxford,
which city they entered with an escort of yeomanry. The Vice-Chancellor
presented an appropriate address in the Theatre, which was crowded with
the celebrities of the University. The Duchess of Kent made the following
answer:--
We close a most interesting journey by a visit to this University,
that the Princess may see, as far as her years will allow, all that is
interesting in it. The history of our country has taught her to know
its importance by the many distinguished persons who, by their
character and talents, have been raised to eminence by the education
they have received in it. Your loyalty to the King, and recollection
of the favour you have enjoyed under the paternal sway of his house,
could not fail, I was sure, to lead you to receive his niece with all
the disposition you evince to make this visit agreeable and
instructive to her. It is my object to insure, by all means in my
power, her being so educated as to meet the just expectation of all
classes in this great and free country.
Their Royal Highnesses returned to Kensington on the 9th of November.
In 1833, the rambles of mother and daughter did not extend beyond the
south coast; Portsmouth, Weymouth, and the Isle of Wight being the
respective halting-places. While residing at Norris, East Cowes, they
attended the ceremony of opening the new landing-pier at the fast rising
port of Southampton. A steamer towed the Royal yacht from Cowes into
Southampton Water, where were waiting a deputation, representing the
corporation of the town, in an eight-oared barge, with one of the
town-sergeants standing with the silver oar in the leads. The deputation
having stated the object of the day's ceremonial, the Duchess of Kent
replied to the effect that she desired her daughter early to become
attached to works of utility. They were then rowed ashore, amid the cheers
of 25,000 spectators, and entertained at luncheon; subsequently, being
requested to name the pier, the Duchess designated it the "Royal Pier."
Countless festivities followed in the evening, and "the townspeople were
almost as proud of the presence of the Princess, as of the completion of
their pier."
[Sidenote: THE PRINCESS AND A WIDOWED ACTRESS.]
The year 1834 was that in which the Princess was confirmed. This holy rite
was administered by the Archbishop of Canterbury, in the Chapel Royal, St.
James's, in July. Next month, mother and daughter visited Tunbridge Wells;
the month following they went northwards, visited the Archbishop of York
at Bishopsthorpe, and attended the grand musical festival in his
cathedral. On their homeward route, they were entertained by the Earls of
Harewood and Fitzwilliam, and the Duke of Rutland; passed some time with
the King and Queen of the Belgians, at Ramsgate, and finally visited the
Duke of Wellington at Walmer Castle. An incident which occurred during
their stay at Tunbridge, must not be omitted from our biography. The
husband of one of the actresses in the small theatre of the place died,
leaving an impoverished wife, who was just about to become a mother. The
fact came to the knowledge of the Princess, and she applied to her mother
for aid. She at once gave £10 to her daughter, who added an equal sum from
her own purse; she became her own almoner, hastened to the afflicted
woman, conversed with her, and continued to make inquiries about her
condition. Nor did this end her care. When she came to the throne, three
years later, she at once sent to the poor woman a kindly intimation that
an annuity of £40 would be paid to her for life.
Another series of visits, and renewed intercourse with the much-loved
uncle and his young Orleanist wife at Ramsgate, filled the autumnal months
of 1835.
CHAPTER VII.
EARLY DAYS OF PRINCE ALBERT.
Birth--Melancholy Story of his Mother--Brought up under the Care of
his two Excellent Grandmothers--His Winning Ways as a Child--His
Tutor, Florschütz--The Brothers, Ernest and Albert--Visit to Brussels,
and its Beneficial Effects--Hard Study--Tour through Germany,
&c.--First Visit to England, and Meeting with Victoria--Studies at
Brussels--Enters the University of Bonn--Tour to Switzerland and
Italy--Public Announcement of Betrothal--Leaves Coburg and Gotha for
his Marriage.
[Sidenote: THE INFANT COUSINS VICTORIA AND ALBERT.]
Albert, the second son of Duke Ernest I. of Saxe-Coburg-Saalfeld, and his
wife, the Princess Louise, daughter of the Duke of Saxe-Gotha-Altenburg,
was born at the Rosenau, a charming summer residence belonging to the
Duke, about four miles from Coburg, on the 26th of August, 1819. His
mother is described as handsome, though of very diminutive proportions,
fair, with blue eyes; and her son Albert, whom she idolised, closely
resembled her. She was clever and entertaining; yet her marriage was an
unhappy one, and a separation took place by mutual consent in 1824, after
which date the Duchess never saw her children. Two years later the
separation was turned into a divorce. The Prince never forgot her, but
spoke of her to his dying day with much tenderness, and the very first
gift which he ever made to the Princess Victoria was a little pin which
his mother had given him. Not until the Prince was almost a young man did
his mother die. When she died her race became extinct, save in the
persons of her two sons. Many years later, her remains were brought to
Coburg, and laid in the family mausoleum beside the Duke and his second
wife. This mausoleum was not completed until 1860, in which year Queen
Victoria deposited a votive wreath on the tomb of the mother of her
husband. Prince Albert's paternal grandmother, the Duchess Dowager of
Coburg, in writing to her daughter, the Duchess of Kent, announcing
Albert's birth, lauded his beauty, and--little thinking how the fortunes
of the two infant cousins were to be intertwined hereafter--thus concluded
her communication:--"How pretty the _May Flower_ (the Princess Victoria,
born the preceding May) will be when I see it in a year's time. Siebold
cannot sufficiently describe what a dear little love it is. Une bonne
fois, adieu! Kiss your husband and children." Siebold was an accoucheuse
who had attended at the births of both the children. On the 19th of
September the Prince was christened, and thus named:--Francis Charles
Augustus Albert Emmanuel.
The young Prince seems to have been adored as a child by all, whether
relatives or others, who came in contact with him. "He leads captive,"
said his fond mother, when he was two years old, "all hearts by his beauty
and gentle grace." After the sad separation of his father from his mother,
the Prince was brought up largely under the care of his father's mother,
whom the Queen describes, from personal recollection, as "a most
remarkable woman, with a most powerful, energetic, almost masculine mind,
accompanied with great tenderness of heart, and extreme love for nature."
Of an evening she used to tell to her two grandchildren, Ernest and
Albert, the stories of Sir Walter Scott's novels, and, when they were old
enough, employed them in writing letters to her dictation. She fondly
described Albert, when he was not yet two years old, by the pet,
diminutive name, "Alberinchen." And she says--"With his large blue eyes
and dimpled cheeks, he is bewitching, forward, and quick as a weasel. He
can already say everything." The step-maternal grandmother of the Prince
too, second wife of his maternal grandfather, was sensible, kindly, and
good, and took an interest in the children by no means inferior to that
displayed by their own grandmother. With the former lady they spent very
much of their time in their early years, at Gotha, and at her mansion in
the vicinity of that town.
When Albert was not yet four years old he, with his brother, was removed
to the care of a tutor, Herr Florschütz, who most admirably discharged his
duties, which he continued to fulfil until his pupils had become young
men. With the assistance of masters for special subjects, he conducted the
whole of their early educational training, and continued to control their
studies until they left the University of Bonn. The two brothers, spite of
the difference of about a twelvemonth in their ages, pursued all studies
in common, and the closest brotherly love and amity united them from first
to last.
[Sidenote: BOYHOOD OF PRINCE ALBERT]
The younger Prince was not nearly so robust as his brother, but his
intellect was more vigorous, and his force of will decidedly greater; "he
always held," said his uncle Leopold, "accordingly, a certain sway over
his elder brother, who rather kindly submitted to it." The Princes were
not much, in their early years, with their father, who was much from home,
especially when settling the junction of the duchy of Gotha with his own
of Coburg. The former he succeeded to partly in right of his wife, and
partly by a mutual compact of exchange of territory, entered into with
other reigning princes of the old Saxon stock. This period was passed by
the Princes at Rosenau, with their tutor, varied by visits to the mansions
of the two grandmothers.
In a memorandum drawn up by Count Arthur Mensdorff, cousin of the Prince,
he describes the young Albert when about ten years of age, at which period
the cousins contracted a friendship which lasted unimpaired until the
Prince's death. His disposition was mild and benevolent; nothing could
make him angry, except anything unjust or dishonest. He was never wild or
noisy, and his favourite study was natural history. He was a good mimic,
and had a keen sense of the ludicrous; but he never pushed a joke to the
extent of hurting one's feelings. His moral purity was as conspicuous as
the meekness of his disposition.
In November of 1831, the Princes suffered a great bereavement in the death
of their admirable grandmother, the Duchess Dowager of Coburg; she died in
the arms of her two eldest sons. She had, from an early period, formed the
wish that a marriage should be contracted between her two grandchildren,
Albert and Victoria.
In 1832, the young Princes, in their turn, accompanied their father in a
journey to visit their uncle, King Leopold. This was a most important
event in the Prince's life; for, though the visit was of but short
duration, the spectacle which he then saw, of a nation which had freed
itself, and worked out its own destiny, had the strongest effect upon his
mind and conscience, which thence grew in attachment to liberal
principles. His deeply-rooted love of art, too, received a strong stimulus
from the splendid architectural and artistic treasures of the old Belgian
city. On his return from Brussels, being now about thirteen years old, he
became remarkably studious, and vigorously set himself to the pursuit of
an unusually comprehensive circle of subjects.
The only recreation which he pursued with vigour was deer-stalking, and
this most beneficially promoted the robustness of a frame as yet
distinguished by delicacy. On Palm Sunday, 1835, he was confirmed, and his
heart seems, at and from this period, to have come under the influence of
religious convictions of peculiar depth and sincerity, though of singular
freedom from all traces of bigotry.
The confirmation of the Princes was immediately followed by a series of
visits to various of their imperial, regal, princely, and noble relatives
and friends throughout Germany and the provinces on the Danube. They
visited in succession Mecklenburg, Berlin, Dresden, Prague, Vienna, Pesth,
and Ofen. In May, 1836, the Princes came to England, on a visit to their
aunt Kent. It was on this occasion that Albert and Victoria first met.
On his return to the Continent from this his first and most gratifying
visit to England, the Duke of Coburg placed Albert and his elder brother
for a time under the care of their uncle at Brussels. A private house was
taken for them, in which they pursued their studies under Dr. Drury, an
English clergyman, who had been appointed their tutor. This gentleman
recorded this testimony of his pupil, when, shortly afterwards, he was
removed from his tutelage, and before any idea was entertained about his
distinguished future position:--"His attainments are various, and solid
too; his abilities are superior; his disposition amiable; his conduct
unexceptionable; and, above all, his belief in, and his attachment to, the
Protestant religion is sincere."
[Sidenote: PRINCE ALBERT AT COLLEGE.]
In the summer following (1837) the two brothers were entered as students
of law, or, more correctly, of jurisprudence (_juris studiosi_), at the
University of Bonn, the Oxford of Germany in respect to the high rank of
some of its students, and standing in the very first place in point of
intrinsic efficiency. The tutor Florschütz still accompanied the young
men; and they benefited by the prelections of such men as Fichte, Perthes,
and Augustus Schlegel. Prince Albert studied classics, mathematics, mental
philosophy, political economy, history, and statistical science. In the
last subject he had been well grounded at Brussels by the distinguished M.
Quetelet, who formed the highest opinion of his pupil's powers and
assiduity. He had, besides, private tutors for music and drawing, in both
of which arts he was already well advanced. In the second stage of his
curriculum his studies were specially devoted to jurisprudence and civil
history. While at Bonn he displayed at once a talent for poetry and a
benevolent heart, by the publication for the benefit of the poor of a
collection of songs, which his brother set to meritorious musical
accompaniments. He visited only among his princely fellow-students, and at
the houses of the professors. His brother and he, though they occasionally
gave courtly entertainments to their friends, lived in private a
temperate and frugal life. He assiduously sought out the society of
_savans_ and men of letters, especially loving to associate with
Professors Welcker and Schlegel. The latter, though he detested the
ordinary run of "princelings," was quite charmed by Albert, of whom he
thought and spoke most highly. The Prince kept only three academical
terms, and finally left the University, in September, 1838, leaving golden
opinions everywhere behind him. Not the least hearty of his eulogists in
after years was Peter Stamm, an hotel-keeper, who acted as gamekeeper to
him on his shooting excursions, and who for years after pointed to English
visitors the portrait of Prince Albert in his sitting-room, his eyes the
while brimming over with glad tears. The University, after his marriage,
conferred upon him the honorary degree of Doctor of Laws, and in the
diploma pointed reference was made to his "summæ fortunæ magnitudinem ac
gravitatem, summâ comitate, amabilique morum suavitate et humanitate."
The winter of 1838-9 was passed by the Prince in a tour through
Switzerland and Italy. After pursuing his journey as far as Naples, and
omitting no locality of interest on the way, he came home by way of
Vienna, and returned to the Castle of Ehrenberg in the summer of 1839. It
has been stated that he found, on the wall of his room, a miniature of
Queen Victoria, by Chalon, which she had sent to him as a gift in his
absence; but we have not discovered any very reliable authority for the
anecdote. In August, having completed his twentieth year, he was formally
declared of age. He inherited from his mother landed estates amounting to
£2,400 yearly value. These lands, we have reason to believe, he
transferred to his brother upon the formal announcement of his engagement
to Queen Victoria, subject only to pensions and allowances to certain
persons who had belonged to his modest household.
[Sidenote: PRINCE ALBERT'S BETROTHAL.]
On the 8th of December, 1839, his betrothal was formally and publicly
announced at Coburg. In the morning the Ducal family, with the Court
officials, attended Divine service in the chapel of the Castle; in the
afternoon, in the presence of the same dignitaries, with the deputies of
the Duchies of Coburg and Gotha, the Chief Minister formally read the
announcement of the betrothal; the while the booming of cannon from the
fortress announced the tidings to the people of the town and the
neighbouring country. About three hundred persons in all were present at
the ceremony within the Castle, including bearers of congratulatory
addresses, not only from the two duchies, but from Austria, Prussia,
Hesse, Saxony, and other German states. From the report of an English
gentleman of high social position, who was present on this important
occasion, we extract, in conclusion, these fuller details:--
When the Minister (Baron de Carlowitz) had read the proclamation, the
Duke embraced his son, and the Duchess next imprinted a kiss upon his
forehead, while in every eye might be read the heartfelt wish that all
the parents' fondest, proudest hopes might be fully realised. More
than one hundred and sixty persons partook of the hospitalities of the
Duke's table, in the "Riesen Saal," or "Giant's Hall," and a more
sumptuous or splendid entertainment could not be imagined. The loud
and cordial cheers which the health of England's Queen called forth,
and which burst out with an enthusiasm which all the forms of
etiquette and courtly ceremony could not restrain, were almost too
affecting; and when the band struck up "God save the Queen," the tears
of joy flowed freely. I must not omit to mention a circumstance
characteristic of the Prince. By his order, the people were admitted
into the "Riesen Saal," to see the assembled company. Peasants from
the hills, old and young, walked about without the smallest restraint,
to their evident enjoyment; and their hearty exclamations--the
blessings they invoked on their beloved Prince and his august
parents--were a more eloquent and stirring panegyric than volumes
could express. To describe the universal attachment of all classes to
the Prince were impossible. I have never heard other than the most
enthusiastic praise--not one dissenting voice from one end of
Thuringia to the other. If I have remarked the personal beauty of the
Prince, the general reply has been, "Ah! yes, he is certainly
handsome, but so good; he is truly a most amiable prince, as good as
he is handsome." Persons attached to his suite, and the older members
of the Court, cannot speak of him without tears, and are quite
distressed at the thought of his leaving his native land.... On the
28th of December the Prince, accompanied by his father, quitted his
paternal residence for a short sojourn at Gotha; and as he bade a last
adieu to the stately castle of Ehrenberg, the abode of his fathers,
and the happy scene of his infancy, the tenderest emotions of his
nature for a moment almost overwhelmed him. A few days prior to his
departure, a ball was given him by the nobles, at which he was
received by twelve young ladies, attired in white, and wearing
fresh-gathered roses; the Philosophic Society gave him a serenade, and
all classes joined in affectionate expression of sympathy in their
young Prince's feelings on this momentous occasion.
Lord Viscount Torrington and Colonel the Honourable Charles Grey, who were
charged with the two-fold mission of investing the Prince with the
insignia of the Order of the Garter, and escorting him and his suite to
England, arrived at Gotha early in January, 1840, and the investiture took
place on the 24th, with imposing ceremony. The jewels, which were of
diamonds and of rare workmanship, were a present from the Queen. After a
series of hospitable festivities in honour of the English envoys, Prince
Albert set out for England on the 28th of the month.
CHAPTER VIII.
THE PRINCESS VICTORIA BECOMES QUEEN REGNANT.
First Meeting of the Princess Victoria and Prince Albert--Coming of
Age--Festivities on the Occasion--Death of William IV., and Accession
of Victoria--The Queen holds her First Privy Council--Her
Address--Proclamation as Queen at St. James's Palace--Beautiful Traits
of Character displayed by the Queen--Stirring and Gorgeous
Scene--Delight of the People at the Queen's Accession.
The marriage of Prince Albert with the Princess Victoria was desired, if
not planned, by certain of their common relatives, especially the Duchess
Dowager of Coburg and her son Prince Leopold, almost from the period when
the cousins were in their cradles. After his betrothal, the Prince himself
told the Queen that his mother, who died in 1831, wished earnestly that he
should marry her. He first saw his future wife in the month of May, 1836,
when he and his brother came to England on a visit to their aunt. He
greatly enjoyed this visit to England, and the youthful guests were
treated by the authorities and the inhabitants of the metropolis with the
utmost courtesy and attention. They were sumptuously entertained at
Windsor by the King and Queen Adelaide, and were conducted to all the
great sights of the town by their aunt and cousin.
On the 24th of May, 1837, the Princess Victoria having attained her
eighteenth year, was declared legally of age, according to the provisions
of a recent Act of Parliament. Amongst the first to congratulate her on
the happy event was Prince Albert. This happy day was kept as a general
holiday, and the night made brilliant by an illumination. It was
celebrated with demonstrations of excessive joy at Kensington. At six
o'clock in the morning the union-jack was hoisted on the steeple of the
old church, as also on the green sward opposite the Palace. That edifice
was surmounted by a splendid flag of pure white silk, on which was
inscribed, in letters of ethereal blue, the single word "Victoria." From
the houses of the principal inhabitants in the High Street waved a
profusion of other flags. The gates of the Gardens were thrown open at six
o'clock for the admission of the public; and it having got wind the
previous evening that a serenade would be performed at seven o'clock, at
which hour Victoria first drew breath eighteen years before, the portion
of the Gardens next the Palace was thronged by an assemblage of
well-dressed persons, including several ladies. Congratulatory addresses
and innumerable presents--amongst the latter, a splendid piano from the
King--poured in from all quarters. At night a magnificent ball in honour
of the occasion was given at St. James's Palace.
During these festivities, although it was known that the King's health was
seriously enfeebled, no one imagined that within a month from the
attainment of her majority the young Princess would become Queen of
England. The anniversary of Waterloo was always a great day with King
William. The Duke of Wellington, in consideration of the declining state
of the King's health, proposed not to have the usual banquet at Apsley
House; but, the day before, William, sent a message desiring that the
banquet should take place, and wishing the host and guests a pleasant day.
By two o'clock on the morning of the 20th he was no more.
[Sidenote: ACCESSION TO THE THRONE.]
Shortly after the demise of the Sovereign, three carriages, conveying the
Primate, the Earl of Albemarle and Sir Henry Halford, the Royal physician,
started from Windsor, and arrived at Kensington Palace shortly before five
o'clock. The doors were thrown open before them, and in the early morning
sunshine stood the Queen of England and her mother, prepared for the news,
and ready to receive them. At nine o'clock, Lord Melbourne, the Premier,
arrived at the Palace, and had an interview of half an hour with his new
mistress. Before noon came the Lord Mayor and other members of the
Corporation. Next to appear was the Duke of Cumberland. Miss Martineau
thus describes the quick succession of incidents which now crowded one
upon the other with rapid haste:--
On the meeting of the princes, peers, and other councillors, they
signed the oath of allegiance; and the first name on the list was that
of Ernest, King of Hanover. The Queen caused them all to be sworn in
Members of the Council, and then addressed them; after which they
issued orders for the Proclamation of Her Majesty. If the millions who
longed to know how the young Sovereign looked and felt could have
heard her first address, it would have gone far to satisfy them. The
address was, of course, prepared for her; but the manner and voice
were her own, and they told much. Her manner was composed, modest, and
dignified; her voice firm and sweet; her reading, as usual, beautiful.
She took the necessary oaths, and received the eager homage of the
thronging nobility without agitation or any awkwardness. The
declaration contained an affectionate reference to the deceased King;
an assertion of her attachment to the constitution of the country, and
of her intention to rule in accordance with it; a grateful allusion to
her mother's educational care of her; an avowal that, under
circumstances of such eminent responsibility as hers, she relied for
support and guidance in Divine Providence, and a pledge that her life
should be devoted to the happiness of her people. The Ministers
returned into her hands, and received again, the seals of their
respective offices; the stamps in official use were ordered to be
altered, as also the prayers of the Church which related to the Royal
Family; the Proclamation was prepared and signed by the Privy
Councillors, and the Queen appointed the next day, Wednesday, for the
ceremony. The first use of the Great Seal, under the new reign, was to
authenticate the official Proclamation, which was gazetted the same
evening. During the whole morning, carriages were driving up rapidly,
bringing visitors eager to offer their homage. What a day of whirl and
fatigue for one in a position so lonely, at such tender years. How
welcome must have been the night, and the quiet of her pillow,
whatever might be the thoughts that rested upon it. The next morning
she appeared "extremely pale and fatigued," and no wonder, for she had
passed through a day which could never be paralleled.
The following is the text of her Majesty's speech delivered on this
occasion to the Privy Council:--
The severe and afflicting loss which the nation has sustained by the
death of His Majesty, my beloved uncle, has devolved upon me the duty
of administering the Government of this empire. This awful
responsibility is imposed upon me so suddenly, and at so early a
period, that I should feel myself utterly oppressed by the burden,
were I not sustained by the hope that Divine Providence, which has
called me to this work, will give me strength for the performance of
it, and that I shall find, in the purity of my intentions, and in my
zeal for the public welfare, that support and those resources which
usually belong to a more mature age and longer experience. I place my
firm reliance upon the wisdom of Parliament, and upon the loyalty and
affection of my people. I esteem it also a peculiar advantage that I
succeed to a sovereign whose constant regard for the rights and
liberties of his subjects, and whose desire to promote the
amelioration of the laws and institutions of the country, have
rendered his name the object of general attachment and veneration.
Educated in England, under the tender and affectionate care of a most
affectionate mother, I have learned from my infancy to respect and
love the constitution of my native country. It will be my unceasing
study to maintain the reformed religion as by law established,
securing, at the same time, to all the full enjoyment of religious
liberty; and I shall steadily protect the rights, and promote to the
utmost of my power the happiness and welfare of all classes of my
subjects.
[Sidenote: PROCLAMATION AS QUEEN.]
The next day, the 21st of June, the Queen was publicly proclaimed, under
the title of Alexandrina Victoria I.; but since that day she has disused
the Russian name bestowed upon her by her Muscovite godfather, preferring
to retain simply "Victoria." The Queen arrived at the Palace at ten
o'clock, where she was received by most of the members of the Royal
Family, the Officers of the Household, and Ministers of State. Long before
ten all the avenues to the Palace were crowded, every balcony, window, and
housetop being crammed with the better class of spectators. The space in
the quadrangle in front of the window where Her Majesty was to appear, was
crowded with ladies and gentlemen, and even the parapets above were filled
with people.
At ten o'clock the guns in the Park fired a salute, and immediately after
the Queen made her appearance at the window of the tapestried ante-room
adjoining the audience chamber, and was received with deafening
cheers--cheers all the more hearty that her appearance was a surprise, for
few had known that she was to be there present. She was dressed in deep
mourning, with a white tippet, white cuffs, and a border of white lace
under a small black bonnet, which was placed far back on her head,
exhibiting her light brown hair simply parted in front. She viewed the
proceedings with intense interest, standing during the whole rehearsal of
the Proclamation; and although she looked pale and fatigued, she returned
the repeated rounds of cheers with great grace and dignity. All were
touched to very tenderness of soul by the pale face, wet with tears, calm
and simply grave, the gravity being enhanced by the plain black dress and
bands of brown hair, giving an aspect of Quaker-like neatness. On either
side stood Lords Melbourne and Lansdowne, in their state dresses and blue
ribbons, and close to her was her mother, who was dressed similarly to the
Queen.
In the court-yard were Garter King-at-Arms, with Heralds and Pursuivants
in their robes of office, and eight Officers-of-Arms on horseback, bearing
massive silver maces; Sergeants-at-Arms, with their maces and collars; the
Sergeant-Trumpeter, with his mace and collar; the trumpets, drum-major and
drums, and Knights Marshal and men. On Her Majesty showing herself at the
Presence Chamber window, Garter Principal King-at-Arms, having taken his
station in the court-yard under the window, accompanied by the Duke of
Norfolk as Earl Marshal of England, read the Proclamation, containing the
formal and official announcement of the demise of King William IV., and of
the consequent accession of Queen Alexandrina Victoria to the rule of
these realms. The Proclamation was brief, and to the point:--
Whereas it hath pleased Almighty God to call to His mercy our late
Sovereign Lord, King William IV., of blessed memory, by whose decease
the Imperial Crown of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland
is solely and rightfully come to the High and Mighty Princess
Alexandrina Victoria, we therefore, the Lords Spiritual and Temporal
of this Realm, being here assisted with these of his late Majesty's
Privy Council, with numbers of other principal gentlemen of quality,
the Lord Mayor, Aldermen, and citizens of London, do now hereby with
one voice and consent of tongue, proclaim that the High and Mighty
Princess Alexandrina Victoria is now, by the death of our late
Sovereign William IV., of happy memory, become our only lawful and
rightful Liege Lady, Alexandrina Victoria I., Queen of Great Britain
and Ireland, Defender of the Faith, ... to whom we acknowledge all
faith and constant obedience, with all humble and hearty affection,
beseeching God, by whom Kings and Queens do reign, to bless the Royal
Princess Alexandrina Victoria with long and happy years to reign. God
Save the Queen.
[Sidenote: THE QUEEN AND THE DUKE OF SUSSEX.]
At the termination of this Proclamation, the band struck up the National
Anthem, and a signal was given for the Park and Tower guns to fire, in
order to announce the fact of the Proclamation being made. Amid the
booming of the guns, the air was rent with cheers by those within the
area, which were taken up by the tens of thousands outside. The enthusiasm
of the comparative few who could see Victoria rose to rapture when, the
moment she was proclaimed Queen, she turned round, threw her arms round
her mother's neck, and wept without restraint. And when her loved uncle,
the Duke of Sussex, presented himself, the day before, to take the oath of
allegiance, and was about to kneel in her presence to kiss her hand, she
gracefully prevented him, kissed his cheek affectionately, and said, "Do
not kneel, my uncle, for I am still Victoria, your niece."
The feelings of gratification with which the people welcomed the accession
of Victoria cannot be depicted in terms too strong. To most, the course of
years seemed very short during which they had been eagerly watching the
growth and training of the Princess. It seemed--at least, to all but the
young--but a matter of yesterday that the newspapers had informed them of
the birth of the Royal babe; of the Duke of Kent's illness: how he had
come home from a walk with wet boots, and, "beguiled by the smiles of his
infant Princess," had played with her, instead of changing his clothes,
and thus caught the cold of which he died. And here she was now, a woman,
and the sovereign ruler of a hundred million of souls. All they had heard
of her was favourable. Sinister rumours and alarms there had been, but
they had been dissipated and dispersed like the morning's mist before the
rising god of day. Her morals were pure, her conduct spotless, and in all
arts and accomplishments she had been carefully trained. From her earliest
days she had been abroad in all weathers; having been often seen, when it
was stormy, on a windy common, with a warm cloak and thick boots. She kept
early hours, and was so exactly and proverbially punctual, that it was
mentioned as a marvel that she once had to apologise for being half a
minute late in an appointment. She had never been known to exceed her
pocket-money in her personal expenditure, or to be sixpence in debt--an
extraordinary novelty in a descendant of George III.
In the first year of her reign the people were delighted to find that she
had paid her father's debts, including considerable sums advanced by his
warm friends, Lords Fitzwilliam and Dundas. Next she paid her mother's
debts--debts unavoidably contracted, as she knew and acknowledged, on her
account. She provided with royal munificence for the whole family of the
late sovereign, and honoured them with courtesies and kindnesses, which
almost obliterated the pain arising from their dubious position. Yet she
lived within her income, and paid as she purchased.
CHAPTER IX.
THE MAIDEN QUEEN.
Removal to Buckingham Palace--First Levée--Dissolves
Parliament--Beauty of her Elocution--Splendid Reception by the City of
London--Settlement of the Queen's Income--Her Daily Life--Her
admirable Knowledge of, and Devotion to, the Business of the
State--Reverence for the Lord's Day.
Greatly to the regret of the inhabitants of Kensington, the Queen, with
her mother, took her final departure from the abode where she was born,
and in which she had spent so many happy days, and proceeded to Buckingham
Palace, on July 13th. The Queen, on this occasion, looked pale, and her
countenance had a very natural, and easily accounted for, aspect of deep
regret. Immediately afterwards she held a Court Levée. It was, of course,
thronged by her loyal subjects who had the privilege of entrée; but there
was no appearance of fatigue in her face, voice, or manner, and the day
passed off with spirit and brilliancy. She seemed to have acquired (so say
the court chroniclers of the period), if possible, increased grace and
dignity. She wore a rich lama dress, her head glittered with diamonds, and
her breast was covered with the insignia of the Garter and other orders. A
pair of embroidered velvet slippers covered feet which, resting on the
cushion, were observed and admired by all as "exquisitely small."
On the 17th of July she went in state to the House of Lords to dissolve
the Parliament, in accordance with constitutional usage and enactment on
the demise of the Crown. After thanking both Houses for their expressions
of condolence on the death of her uncle, and for the zeal and assiduity
with which they had discharged their duties, especially for their efforts
to mitigate the severity of the penal code, she concluded by saying:--
I ascend the throne with a deep sense of the responsibility which is
imposed upon me; but I am supported by the consciousness of my own
right intentions, and by my dependence upon the protection of Almighty
God. It will be my care to strengthen our institutions, civil and
ecclesiastical, by discreet improvement wherever improvement is
required, and to do all in my power to compose and allay animosity and
discord. Acting upon these principles, I shall, upon all occasions,
look with confidence to the wisdom of Parliament and the affections of
my people, which form the true support of the dignity of the Crown,
and ensure the stability of the Constitution.
The admirable manner in which the speech was read--her singularly musical
voice being heard, without the slightest appearance of effort, in every
corner of the House of Lords--was the subject of the admiration of all who
heard it. It was, indeed, known that she was a fine singer, and frequently
entertained her mother's guests by singing to them, her mother
accompanying her on the piano; nevertheless, the lucidity of her tones,
and the entire absence of any discomposure to disturb them, surprised
every one, and no one more so than her mother.
[Sidenote: STATE VISIT TO THE CITY.]
The Queen went in great state to the City on Lord Mayor's Day, November 9.
This royal entry was one of the greatest sights which had ever been beheld
in the City. The Queen, looking remarkably well, magnificently attired in
pink satin shot with silver, was greeted with deafening cheers from a
crowd far denser than any she had ever seen, along her whole route from
Marlborough House (her temporary residence until Buckingham Palace was
completed for her occupation) to the Guildhall. The houses along the
thoroughfares by which the cavalcade passed were hung with bright-coloured
cloths, with green boughs, and with what flowers the earth could afford at
the late season of the year. Flags and heraldic banners darkened the dim
November light across the Strand, Fleet Street, and Cheapside; and every
pedestal that could be improvised supported a bust of Queen Victoria. At
Temple Bar the Lord Mayor and Aldermen, mounted on artillery horses from
Woolwich, each of the steeds being held by the head by the soldier who was
accustomed to bestride him, awaited their distinguished guest. The Lord
Mayor, dismounting and taking the City Sword in his hand, delivered the
keys, which were graciously returned, while more vociferous cheers than
ever rent the air. On which, the Lord Mayor, re-mounting and holding the
City Sword aloft, rode before Her Majesty through the City, the cortége of
mounted Aldermen following her carriage. The open space before St. Paul's
was occupied by hustings, crowded by the Liverymen of the City Companies
and the Christ's Hospital boys. One of these, in conformity with an old
usage, having presented an address to the Queen, and the whole of the boys
having sung "God save the Queen," the procession went on its way. At the
Guildhall, which, with all its adjacent chambers, was sumptuously fitted
up, a loyal address was read by the Recorder, and suitably acknowledged.
After this came a sumptuous banquet, from which Her Majesty retired, to
see on her way back the whole line of the route brilliantly illuminated.
The first message which the Queen sent to Parliament when it re-assembled,
was a truly characteristic one: it asked for a suitable provision for her
royal mother. This provision was loyally made, and in the same short
winter session her own civil list was settled. William IV. had enjoyed a
civil list amounting to £510,000, while, from the accession of George III.
to the death of his eldest son, it had been fixed at £1,030,000. Her
Majesty's civil list was fixed at £385,000 per annum, and her privy purse,
being the only sum over which she had complete personal control, and from
which her private charities had to be disbursed, was fixed at £60,000. Out
of the £385,000 the calculation, based by order of Parliament upon the
accounts of the late reign, was that £131,260 would go for salaries of the
Household, from the Master of the Horse and Mistress of the Robes, down to
the humblest scullion and stable-helper; and £172,500 in tradesmen's
bills.
During the early days of her maiden reign, the Queen rose at eight,
occupied a remarkably short time in dressing, and then discharged such
routine business as signing despatches until the breakfast hour, which was
invariably a quarter before ten. At that hour, she without fail sent one
of her attendants to _invite_ the Duchess of Kent to breakfast. From the
day of her ascending the throne, to remove the slightest ground for
suspicion as to any undue influence, the strictest etiquette was preserved
between mother and daughter; the former never approaching the latter
unless specially summoned, and carefully abstaining from conversing about
the business of the State. Twelve o'clock was the time appointed for
conferences with her Ministers. After the usual complimentary salutation,
she at once proceeded to the business of the day. If a document were
handed to her, she read it without comment, and no remark passed her own
lips or those of the Ministers present, until its perusal was concluded.
After retiring from the Council-room, the interval was passed until dinner
in riding or walking. At dinner, the first Lord-in-waiting took the head
of the table; opposite to him, the chief Equerry-in-waiting. Her Majesty's
chair was half way down on the right, the various guests being seated
according to their ranks. Next to Her Majesty, on the right hand, was the
nobleman of highest degree; next to him, the Duchess of Kent, and so on.
On Her Majesty's left, the same rule was observed, the Baroness Lehzen,
who acted as Secretary to the Queen, being always near her. The Queen left
the table early for the drawing-room, where her musical tastes were
regaled almost invariably, and her own proficiency very frequently
displayed.
[Sidenote: REVERENCE FOR SUNDAY.]
The following incident, which was made public during the first year of the
Queen's reign, made a very pleasing impression upon the well-conditioned
portion of the public. A certain noble Minister arrived at Windsor at a
late hour on Saturday night. On being introduced, he said, "I have brought
down for your Majesty's inspection some documents of great importance;
but, as I shall be obliged to trouble you to examine them in detail, I
will not encroach on the time of your Majesty to-night, but will request
your attention to-morrow morning." "To-morrow morning?" repeated the
Queen; "to-morrow is Sunday, my lord." "True, your Majesty, but business
of the State will not admit of delay." "I am aware of that," replied the
Queen, "and, as your lordship could not have arrived earlier at the Palace
to-night, I will, if those papers are of such pressing importance, attend
to their contents after church to-morrow morning." So to church went the
Queen and the Court, and to church went the noble lord; when, much to his
surprise, the discourse was on the duties and obligations of the Christian
Sabbath. "How did your lordship like the sermon?" asked the Queen. "Very
much indeed, your Majesty," replied the nobleman. "Well, then," retorted
Her Majesty, "I will not conceal from you that, last night, I sent the
clergyman the text from which he preached. I hope we shall all be improved
by the sermon." The Sunday passed without a single word being said
relative to the State papers, and at night, when Her Majesty was about to
withdraw--"To-morrow morning, my lord, at any hour you please," said the
Queen, turning to the nobleman--"as early as seven, my lord, if you like,
we will look into the papers." The nobleman said that he could not think
of intruding on Her Majesty at so early an hour; he thought nine o'clock
would be quite soon enough. "No, no, my lord," said the Queen; "as the
papers are of importance, I wish them to be attended to very early.
However, if you wish it to be nine, be it so." And accordingly, the next
morning at nine, Her Majesty was seated ready to receive the nobleman and
his papers.
CHAPTER X.
THE QUEEN CROWNED.
Novel Features in the Coronation--Its Cost--Large Amount of Money
Circulated--Splendour of the Procession--Enormous Crowds--The Scene
within the Abbey--Arrival of the Queen--The Regalia and Sacred
Vessels--Costume of the Queen--Astonishment of the Turkish Ambassador
at the Scene--The Coronation Ceremony--The Queen's Oath--The
Anointing--The Crown placed on her Head--The Homage--An Aged Peer--The
Queen's Crown--The Illuminations and general Festivities--Fair in Hyde
Park--The Duke of Wellington and Marshal Soult at the Guildhall.
The great event of the year 1838 was the Coronation, which took place on
the 28th of June. It was conducted after the abridged model of that of the
Queen's immediate predecessor. The Coronation of George IV. had cost
£243,000; that of William IV., £50,000. The charges on the occasion of the
crowning of Queen Victoria amounted to about £70,000. This slight excess
over the cost of the last Sovereign's solemn investiture with regal power
was explained by the Chancellor of the Exchequer as having been in no
sense occasioned by any part of the ceremonial peculiarly connected with
the Sovereign, but it had been incurred with a view of enabling the great
mass of the people to participate in this national festivity. The great
novelty on the occasion was the omission of the walking procession of all
the estates of the realm, and the banquet in Westminster Hall, with the
feudal services attendant thereon. Many of the upper classes grumbled not
a little at these omissions; but the general public were more than
proportionately gratified. For in lieu of the disused ceremonies, a public
procession through the streets was substituted. This enabled all to
witness the splendid pageant, and induced a very large private expenditure
and circulation of money. It was estimated that no less than £200,000 were
paid for the use of windows and other positions of vantage in the line of
the procession. The price of single seats ranged from five shillings to
ten guineas; and the Duke of Buckingham, in his "Courts and Cabinets of
William IV. and Victoria," alleges that single windows in Pall Mall and
St. James's Street produced no less than £200. Persons of distinction
behaved with a becoming liberality and splendour. Marshal Soult, the old
opponent of Wellington, who specially represented on the occasion the
Court of the Tuileries, and who was received by the crowds with great
enthusiasm, appeared in a splendid state carriage that had been used by
the Prince of Condé. The Russian Ambassador purchased for £1,600 a similar
chariot, which had already done the same duty for the Duke of Devonshire,
at St. Petersburg, on a like occasion. Another diplomat gave £250 for the
loan for the day of a vehicle befitting his rank; while many more had to
content themselves with carriages whose normal function it was to minister
to the state of the civic magnates, and which were hastily repainted and
decorated for the auspicious occasion.
The day was one of the brightest on which the Queen, with her proverbial
good fortune in this respect, has ever appeared amongst her subjects. At
early morn, the first rays of the blazing Midsummer sun slanted down
through the windows of Westminster Abbey upon the jewels of whole rows of
peeresses, and the illuminations which turned night into day remained in
full magnificence until the dawn of the succeeding morning. At dawn, a
salvo of artillery from the Tower caused all the population to be astir,
and the population was on this day increased by the importation of four
hundred thousand visitors. The behaviour of the enormous multitude which
first lined the streets and then spread itself over the town, was beyond
all praise. Courtesy and mutual forbearance were conspicuous, and no
accident or offence occurred to mar the pleasing impressions of the
ceremonial.
[Sidenote: ORDER OF THE PROCESSION.]
The route of the procession was as follows:--From Buckingham Palace, up
Constitution Hill, along Piccadilly, St. James's Street, Pall Mall,
Cockspur Street, Charing Cross, Whitehall, and Parliament Street, to the
great west door of Westminster Abbey. The most novel feature of the
procession was the carriages of the Foreign Ambassadors, to which we have
already alluded, with their jägers in gorgeous or grotesque uniforms.
These came in the order in which they had arrived on their special
missions to this country; the carriages of the regular resident
Ambassadors came in their ordinary order of precedence. Next followed the
members of the Royal Family, the Duchess of Kent preceding the carriages
of the surviving sons of George III. To the Queen's Barge Master, with
forty-eight watermen, succeeded twelve of the Royal carriages, containing
the Ladies and Gentlemen of the Household. Next came mounted, three and
three, the high functionaries of the Army. And after Royal huntsmen,
yeomen, prickers, marshalmen, foresters, and a host of other minor
functionaries--the whole of the mounted Household Troops being here and
there interspersed at intervals in the cavalcade--came the grand state
coach, containing Her Majesty the Queen, with the Duchess of Sutherland,
Mistress of the Robes. On either side of the carriage rode Lord
Combermere, Gold Stick in Waiting, and the Earl of Ilchester, Captain of
the Yeomen of the Guard. The Earl of Albemarle, as Master of the Horse,
and the Duke of Buccleuch, as Captain-General of the Royal Scottish
Archers, rode behind. A squadron of Life Guards brought up the rear.
Meanwhile, within the Abbey, a painful sleepiness had oppressed those who
had sat so many hours in cramped positions; many of them in galleries
perched up high under the roofs of the aisles. Suddenly, a burst of music,
rushing among the arches and ringing from the roof, aroused and entranced
all, who peered eagerly down upon the procession of small figures; the
central one looking the slightest and most fragile of all. At half-past
eleven, the Queen reached the door of the Abbey, where she was received by
the great officers of State, the noblemen bearing the Regalia, and the
bishops carrying Patina, Chalice, and Bible. Having retired to her
Robing-room, the procession formed and proceeded towards the altar, which
was laden with magnificent gold plate, and beside which stood St. Edward's
Chair. Besides the elements which are common to all great English regal
processions, and which it is, therefore, not requisite to recapitulate,
the Regalia, which only appear on such occasions, were thus
distributed:--St. Edward's Staff, the Golden Spurs, the Sceptre with the
Cross, the Curtana, and two Swords of Investiture, were borne respectively
by the Duke of Roxburgh, Lord Byron, Duke of Cleveland, Duke of
Devonshire, Marquis of Westminster, and Duke of Sutherland. The coronets
of the princes of the blood were borne by noblemen; their trains by
knights or peers' sons. Next came the Earl Marshal, Duke of Norfolk, with
his staff, Lord Melbourne with the Sword of State, and the Duke of
Wellington, with his staff, as Lord High Constable; the Dukes of Richmond,
Hamilton, and Somerset bore the Sceptre and Dove, St. Edward's Crown, and
the Orb; the Bishops of Bangor, Winchester, and London carried the Patina,
Chalice, and Bible. The Queen, who was supported on one side by the Bishop
of Bath and Wells, on the other by the Bishop of Durham, wore a royal robe
of crimson velvet, furred with ermine and broidered with gold lace. She
wore the collars of her orders, and on her head a circlet of gold. Eight
peers' daughters bore her train, most, if not all of them, old friends of
her happy childish tours to the mansions of the aristocracy, and
distinguished by their personal attractions. About fifty ladies of rank,
occupying various positions in the household, succeeded, and the
procession was concluded by Officers of State and Yeomen of the Guard.
[Sidenote: THE CORONATION.]
The chief and most picturesque incidents in the Coronation ceremony must
be briefly narrated. The Queen looked extremely well, and "had a very
animated countenance;" but perhaps the splendid attire of some of the
foreign ambassadors attracted more attention than even the Sovereign to
whose court they were accredited. The costume of the Prince Esterhazy was
by far the most gorgeous; his dress, even to his boot-heels, sparkled with
diamonds. The Turkish Ambassador seemed specially bewildered at the
general splendour of the scene: for some moments he stopped in
astonishment, and had to be courteously admonished to move to his allotted
place.
As the Queen advanced slowly to the centre of the choir, she was received
with hearty plaudits, and the musicians sang the anthem, "I was glad." At
its close, the boys of Westminster School, privileged of old to occupy a
special gallery, chanted "Vivat Victoria Regina." On this the Queen moved
to a chair, midway between the Chair of Homage and the altar; and there,
after a few moments' private devotion, kneeling on a fald-stool, she sat
down, and the ceremony proper began. First came the "recognition." The
Archbishop of Canterbury, accompanied by some half-dozen of the greatest
civil dignitaries, advanced and said, "Sirs, I here present unto you Queen
Victoria, the undoubted Queen of this realm; wherefore, all you who have
come this day to do your homage, are you willing to do the same?" On this,
all Her Majesty's subjects present shouted, "God Save Queen Victoria!" the
Archbishop turning in succession to the north, south, and west sides of
the Abbey, and the Queen doing the same. The bishops who bore them, then
placed the Patina, Chalice, and Bible on the altar; the Queen, kneeling,
made her first offering, a pall, or altar-cloth, of gold. The Archbishop
having offered a prayer, the Regalia were laid on the altar; the Litany
and Communion services were read, and a brief sermon preached, by various
prelates. The preacher was the Bishop of London, and his text was from the
Second Book of Chronicles, chapter xxxiv., verse 31--"And the king stood
in his place, and made a covenant before the Lord, to walk after the Lord,
and to keep his commandments, and his testimonies, and his statutes, with
all his heart, and with all his soul, to perform the words of the covenant
which are written in this book."
After the sermon, the Queen swore--the Archbishop of Canterbury putting
the oath--that she would maintain the law and the established religion.
Then Her Majesty--the Sword of State being carried before her--went to the
altar, and laying her right hand upon the Gospel, said, kneeling, "The
things which I have here-before promised, I will perform and keep. So help
me, God!" Having kissed the book, and signed a transcript of the oath
presented to her by the Archbishop, she knelt upon her fald-stool, while
the choir sang, "Veni, Creator, Dominus."
[Sidenote: THE HOMAGE OF THE PEERS.]
Now, sitting in King Edward's Chair, four Knights of the Garter holding
the while over her head a canopy of cloth of gold, her head and hands were
anointed by the Archbishop of Canterbury; after which he said his prayer,
or blessing, over her. In quick succession followed the delivery of the
Spurs, Sword of State, &c. The Dean of Westminster, having taken the crown
from the altar, handed it to the Archbishop, who reverently placed it on
the Queen's head. This was no sooner done, than there arose from every
part of the edifice a tremendous shout--"God save the Queen!" accompanied
with lusty cheers and the waving of hats and handkerchiefs. At the same
moment, the Peers and Peeresses put on their coronets, the Bishops their
caps, and the Kings of Arms their crowns; the trumpets sounded, the drums
were beat, and volleys fired from the Tower and Park guns. After the
Benediction and Te Deum, the Queen was "enthroned," or "lifted," as the
formulary has it, from the chair in which she had first sat into the Chair
of Homage, where she delivered the sceptre, &c., to noblemen, while she
received fealty of her more distinguished subjects. The Archbishop first
knelt and did homage for himself and all the spiritual peers; next came
the Princes of the blood, who merely touched the crown, kissed her left
cheek, swore the oath of homage, and retired without kneeling; then the
Peers in succession came--seventeen dukes, twenty-two marquises,
ninety-four earls, twenty viscounts, and ninety-two barons. Each Peer
knelt bareheaded, and kissed Her Majesty's hand. Lord Rolle, who was
upwards of eighty, stumbled and fell in going up the steps; the Queen at
once stepped forward, and held out her hand to assist him. While the Peers
were doing homage, the Earl of Surrey, Treasurer of the Household, threw
silver coronation medals about the choir and lower galleries; and when the
homage was completed the Members of the House of Commons, who occupied a
special gallery, indicated their loyalty by giving nine lusty cheers. It
was almost a quarter to four when the procession came back along the nave.
The return cavalcade along the streets was even more attractive than that
of the morning, for the royal and noble personages now wore their
coronets, and the Queen her crown. The crown was especially admired. That
which had been made for George IV. weighed upwards of seven pounds, and as
it was considered too heavy for the Queen, a new one was constructed by
Messrs. Rundell and Bridge, of less than half the weight. It was formed of
hoops of silver, covered with precious stones, over a cap of rich blue
velvet, surmounted with a ball enriched by diamonds. Amongst its other
gems was a large heart-shaped ruby, which had been worn by the Black
Prince; this was set in front.
[Sidenote: CORONATION FESTIVITIES.]
In the evening the Queen entertained a hundred guests to dinner at
Buckingham Palace, and at a late hour witnessed from the roof the
fireworks in the Green Park. At Apsley House, the Duke of Wellington gave
a ball, to which two thousand guests were invited. All the Cabinet
Ministers gave state dinners. A fair was held in Hyde Park on the day of
the coronation--Thursday--and until the end of the week. The area allotted
comprised nearly one-third of the Park. On Friday, the Queen visited the
fair, which was studded with theatres, refreshment booths, and stalls for
the sale of fancy articles. The illuminations and fireworks gave great
satisfaction, as did the fact that the whole of the theatres were opened
gratuitously at the Queen's express desire. Among other festivities, at
home and abroad, which succeeded and were held in honour of the coronation
of Victoria, may be mentioned a grand review by Her Majesty in Hyde Park;
a magnificent banquet at the Guildhall, at which the old Waterloo
antagonists, Wellington and Soult, were toasted in combination; the
feasting of 13,000 persons on one spot at Cambridge; the laying of the
first stone of the St. George's Hall, at Liverpool, and at Leghorn of an
English Protestant Church; and a great public dinner, in Paris, presided
over by Sir Sidney Smith, the hero of St. Jean d'Acre.
CHAPTER XI.
THE BEDCHAMBER PLOT.
Resignation of Lord Melbourne's Cabinet--Sir Robert Peel sent
for--Fails to Form a Cabinet--His Explanation--The Queen Refuses to
Dismiss her Ladies of the Bedchamber--Supported by her late
Ministers--Sir Robert Peel's Objections--The Queen will not give
way--The Whigs recalled to Power--Public Opinion on the Dispute--The
Whig Ministers blamed, but the Queen exculpated.
In April, 1839, Lord Melbourne's administration, which had been rapidly
losing its once great popularity, obtained only the small and nominal
majority of five, in a very important matter connected with the government
of Jamaica. The Ministers accordingly tendered their resignations early in
May, and Her Majesty was graciously pleased to accept them. As usual under
such circumstances, the Parliament was prorogued for a few days. After the
lapse of a week, the Houses re-assembled, and Lord John Russell, who had
been the Whig leader of the House, immediately rose and said that since he
had last addressed them, Sir Robert Peel had received authority from Her
Majesty to form a new Administration, and that the attempt of the Right
Honourable Baronet having failed, Her Majesty had been graciously pleased
to permit that gentleman to state the circumstances which had led to that
failure.
On her accession, the Queen had left the selection of the Ladies of the
Household entirely to her uncle Sussex, and Lord Melbourne--the one of
whom had been a Whig all his life, and the other, though but a
comparatively recent convert, was the head of the Whig party. They had
somewhat indiscreetly selected at least all the important female members
of the Household, those to whom a young girl would be likely to look up
confidingly for information and guidance, from the ranks of the Whig
aristocracy. On Tuesday, the 29th of May, the resignations of the
Melbourne Cabinet were announced to Parliament. The next day, at two
o'clock, in answer to her summons, Sir Robert Peel waited upon the Queen.
She had first sent for the Duke of Wellington, but he recommended his
former lieutenant and future leader as premier. The Queen, with
characteristic truthfulness, which was none the less admirable that it was
too girlishly outspoken to be judicious, or at all in accordance with the
spirit of the constitution, at once greeted Sir Robert with an avowal that
she was much grieved to part with her late Ministers, whose conduct she
entirely approved. This was rather an awkward beginning. Nevertheless, he
proceeded with the formation of his Cabinet, and the next day submitted a
list of names to the Queen, including the Duke of Wellington, Lords
Lyndhurst, Aberdeen, Ellenborough, Stanley, Sir James Graham, and Mr.
Goulburn. As to the Household, he had hardly thought about it, and indeed
he said he did not know who constituted the female part of it. He took the
Red Book to learn who they were, and was at once struck with the
completeness of the arrangements for surrounding the Queen with the
nearest relations of the Whig Ministers. For example, he afterwards put
this point most strongly to the House:--
Sir, let me take that particular question on which my difficulty would
arise. Who can conceal from himself that my difficulties were not
Canada; that my difficulties were not Jamaica; that my difficulties
were Ireland? (ironical cheers). I admit it freely, and thank you for
the confirmation of my argument which these cheers afford. And what is
the fact? I, undertaking to be a Minister of the Crown, and wishing to
carry on public affairs through the intervention of the present House
of Commons, in order that I might exempt the country from the
agitation, and, possibly, the peril of a dissolution--I, upon that
very question in a minority of upwards of twenty members. A majority
of twenty-two had decided in favour of the policy of the Irish
Government [that is, of the Irish policy of Lord Melbourne]. The chief
members of the Irish Government, whose policy was so approved of, were
the Marquis of Normanby, and the noble lord opposite, the member for
Yorkshire [Lord Morpeth, afterwards the Earl of Carlisle]. By whom are
the chief offices in the Household at this moment held? By the sister
of Lord Morpeth [the Duchess of Sutherland], and the wife of the
Marquis of Normanby. But the question is--Would it be considered by
the public that a Minister had the confidence of the Crown, when the
relatives of his immediate political opponents held the highest
offices about the person of the Sovereign? My impression decidedly was
that I should not appear to the country to be in possession of that
confidence; and that impression I could not overcome; and upon that
impression I resolved to act. Who were my political opponents? Why, of
the two I have named, one, the Marquis of Normanby, was publicly
stated to be a candidate for the very same office which it was
proposed I should fill--namely, the office of Prime Minister. The
other noble lord has been designated as the leader of this House; and
I know not why his talents might not justify his appointment, in case
of the retirement of his predecessor. Is it possible--I ask you to go
back to other times; take Pitt, or Fox, or any other Minister of this
proud country, and answer for yourselves this question--is it fitting
that one man shall be the Minister, responsible for the most arduous
charge that can fall to the lot of man, and that the wife of the
other--that other his most formidable political enemy--shall, with his
express consent, hold office in immediate attendance on the
Sovereign? Oh no! I felt it was impossible--I could not consent to
this. Yes, feelings more powerful than reasoning on those precedents
told me that it was not for my own honour or the public interests that
I should consent to be Minister of England. The public interests may
suffer nothing by my abandonment of that high trust; the public
interests may suffer nothing by my eternal exclusion from power; but
the public interests would suffer, and I should be abandoning my duty
to myself, my country, and, above all, to the Queen my sovereign, if I
were to consent to hold power on conditions which I felt to be--which
I had the strongest conviction were--incompatible with the authority
and with the duty of a Prime Minister.
[Sidenote: THE QUEEN AND SIR ROBERT PEEL.]
Sir Robert had informed Her Majesty that he did not propose any change in
the offices in question below the grade of Ladies of the Bedchamber. He
took it for granted that the ladies who held higher offices would save him
any appearance of want of courtesy by voluntarily resigning. Ere this,
however, had been stated, the Queen having expressed a desire that her own
and her mother's old friend, Lord Liverpool (who, it may be remarked, was
of the Tory party), should be appointed to some office, Sir Robert at once
requested the Queen's permission to offer him the office of Lord Steward,
or any other which he might select. The only other names which he
submitted to her were those of Lords Ashley (now Shaftesbury), and Sydney.
So far all was well. But when he went on to say that he was most ready to
apply a similar principle to, and consult Her Majesty's wishes in, the
selection of her ladies, the Queen remarked that she should reserve all
these appointments, and indeed did not intend to make any present change.
In a subsequent interview with the Duke of Wellington, the Queen
reiterated the same desire and intention. Meanwhile, after her interviews
with Peel and Wellington, Her Majesty sent for Lord John Russell, and put
the direct question to him, Was she right in her determination? He at once
replied that she was right; on which she naïvely asked him to support her
now, as she had supported the Cabinet of which he had been a member. Lord
John having consulted Lord Melbourne, they called their ex-colleagues
together, and advised the Queen to send the following note to Sir Robert
Peel, which she did:--
Buckingham Palace, May 10, 1839.
The Queen, having considered the proposal made to her yesterday by Sir
Robert Peel, to remove the Ladies of her Bedchamber, cannot consent to
adopt a course which she conceives to be contrary to usage and
repugnant to her feelings.
On receipt of this, Sir Robert Peel, acting in perfect concert with the
Duke of Wellington, communicated with Her Majesty in a remarkably
courteous letter, of which this was the concluding and decisive
paragraph:--
Having had the opportunity, through your Majesty's gracious
consideration, of reflecting upon this point, he humbly submits to
your Majesty that he is reluctantly compelled, by a sense of public
duty and of the interest of your Majesty's service, to adhere to the
opinion which he ventured to express to your Majesty. He trusts he may
be permitted, at the same time, to express to your Majesty his
grateful acknowledgments for the distinction which your Majesty
conferred upon him, by requiring his advice and assistance in the
attempt to form an Administration, and his earnest prayers that
whatever arrangements your Majesty may be enabled to make for that
purpose, may be most conducive to your Majesty's personal comfort and
happiness, and to the promotion of the public welfare.
[Sidenote: WELLINGTON AND LORD MELBOURNE.]
It was generally believed at the time, as Sir Archibald Alison himself
confesses, that Peel did not regret this royal rebuff; for "he was by no
means sanguine," says the Tory historiographer, "as to the success of his
mission, nor annoyed at the failure of the attempt to fulfil it." The
_pro_ and _con_ were put with equal terseness and skill by Lord Melbourne
and the Duke of Wellington. The words of the latter were:--"It is
essential that the Minister should possess the entire confidence of Her
Majesty, and with that view should exercise the usual control permitted to
the Minister by the Sovereign in the construction of the Household. There
is the greatest possible difference between the _Household of the Queen
Consort and the Household of the Queen Regnant_--that of the former, who
is not a political personage, being comparatively of little importance."
Lord Melbourne, on the other hand, thus justified the advice which his
Royal Mistress had received from him and adopted:--"I frankly declare that
I resume office unequivocally and solely for this reason, that I will not
abandon my Sovereign in a situation of difficulty and distress, and
especially when a demand is made upon Her Majesty with which, I think, she
ought not to comply--a demand inconsistent with her personal honour, and
which, if acquiesced in, would render her reign liable to all the changes
and variations of political parties, and render her domestic life one
constant scene of unhappiness and discomfort."
The public at large, even those who thought her _action_ wrong, accorded
to the Queen sympathy rather than blame. It was well known that she had
been dexterously surrounded by the wives and sisters and daughters of the
great Whigs, and that on these ladies all her ardent and girlish
affections were bestowed. This made the people all the more angry that
the male heads of the Whig houses now gave her unconstitutional advice.
Not only her youth and inexperience, but the very warmth of the affection
which she had displayed, and, above all, the fact that she was the chief
sufferer on the occasion, all pleaded for her. Indeed, it may be said that
the quickly-forgotten "Bedchamber Plot" rather endeared the Sovereign to
her subjects than otherwise. Both of her uncles who preceded her on the
throne had been exceedingly capricious and disloyal to their ministers.
Under these reigns there was a constant sense, in the breasts of ministers
and in the breasts of the people, of the precariousness of the existence
of even the most popular cabinets. It certainly cannot be said that in the
early summer of 1839 Lord Melbourne's cabinet was popular. Nevertheless,
though the ministers were blamed, the people were charmed by the Queen's
ingenuousness, bravery, and steadiness of attachment. It is but just to
state that on every future occasion of the change of an Administration,
the Queen has, without the slightest demur, conceded the point, the
consideration of which we now dismiss. And with the transparent candour of
her nature, Her Majesty has caused it to be made known that the Prince
Consort had much to do with producing this result.
CHAPTER XII.
COURTSHIP AND BETROTHAL.
Desire of the Coburg Relatives for a Marriage between Victoria and
Albert--Favourable Impressions mutually made by Victoria and
Albert--Prince Albert's Letter on the Queen's Accession--Opposition of
King William IV. to the Marriage--Correspondence between the
Cousins--King Leopold urges on the Marriage--The Queen's Reluctance to
become Betrothed--Her subsequent Regret at this--The Prince craves a
definite Determination--His Second Visit to England--Betrothed at
last--Returns to Germany to say Farewell.
We have already seen that the marriage of Prince Albert with his cousin
was strongly desired by their common relatives from a very early period of
their lives. It was the "ardent wish" of their grandmother, and she freely
communicated that wish to her son and daughter, Prince Leopold and the
Duchess of Kent. There are strong indications that the astute King Leopold
never lost sight of this end from the date of his mother's death in 1831.
Soon after the visit of the brothers to their "aunt Kent" in 1836, the
rumour began to prevail in England that Prince Albert was the _fiancé_ of
the future Queen. The idea, however, was premature. So we know on the
Queen's authority, who has caused it to be stated that "nothing was then
settled."
In the letters which the Prince sent to his father and others, during his
stay at Brussels and elsewhere, immediately after his first visit to
England, he made frequent reference to the general impressions thence
derived, and especially to his young cousin. Of such allusions, this is a
fair specimen:--"A few days ago I received a letter from aunt Kent,
enclosing one from our cousin. She told me I was to communicate its
contents to you, so I send it on with a translation of the English. The
day before yesterday I received a second and yet kinder letter from my
cousin, in which she thanks me for my good wishes on her birth-day. You
may easily imagine that both these letters gave me great pleasure." And
when the news of the death of King William and the accession of Victoria
arrived, he informed his father, on the authority of his uncle Leopold,
that the new reign had commenced most successfully (this, perhaps, in
allusion to the anticipated attempt at a _coup d'état_ by the Duke of
Cumberland), that his cousin Victoria had shown astonishing
self-possession, although English parties were violently excited, and that
the Duchess of Kent had found strenuous support against "violent attacks
in the newspapers." This last statement we have, however, good reasons for
saying had reached the young Prince in a somewhat exaggerated form; we
mean, so far as the "violence" of the attacks was concerned.
To the Queen herself the Prince wrote a letter, consolatory in her
bereavement, and congratulatory on her accession. This was the first
letter which he sent her written in English. He prayed Heaven to assist
her now that she was "Queen of the mightiest land in Europe," with the
happiness of millions in her hand, and asked her "to think sometimes of
her cousins in Bonn [where they were then pursuing their University
studies], and to continue that kindness you favoured them with till now."
[Sidenote: RUMOURS ABOUT MARRIAGE.]
On the accession of the Queen, the rumour of her marriage with Prince
Albert became ten times more prevalent. The judicious King Leopold thought
it wise, for a time at least, to discourage this expectation, and to
withdraw the attention of the English from the Prince. Hence it was that
he counselled those journeys into Austria, South Germany, Switzerland, and
Italy, in which we have already traced the steps of the Prince. This was
chiefly dictated by the distracted state of parties in England, which the
King of the Belgians thought it better to permit time to allay ere the
matrimonial project was brought specifically forward. "United as all
parties are," wrote Prince Albert to his father, from the inspiration of
his uncle, "in high praise of the young Queen, the more do they seem to
manoeuvre and intrigue with and against each other. On every side there is
nothing but a network of cabals and intrigues, and parties are arrayed
against each other in a most inexplicable manner."
Whilst making his "grand tour," the Prince kept up an occasional
correspondence with his cousin. From Switzerland he sent her an album of
the places which he visited, from the top of the Rigi a dried Alpine rose,
and from Ferney an autographic scrap of Voltaire, which he received from
an old servant of the great philosopher.
By the early part of 1839, the tour was concluded, and we find the Prince
once more at Brussels with his uncle. Leopold now spoke to him more fully
and definitely than he had hitherto done about his prospects in life and
the state of his affections. It very clearly appears that the marriage
with the Queen had been gradually becoming more and more an understood
thing. It appears equally clear that the Queen was averse, as yet, to
committing herself to a distinct and final engagement. She was willing to
marry, but wished to defer the contraction of the union. She thought both
herself and her cousin too young; and the interests of her people, rather
than any personal backwardness, influenced her wish that both she and her
husband should be older ere they became man and wife. She regretted
afterwards this delay, and felt that the harassments of the Bedchamber
Plot and other still more painful incidents which we have thought it
preferable not to rake up and reproduce in these pages, would have been
borne by her with more equanimity had she had the natural protection of a
husband six months or a year ere the date of her marriage. It was probably
this postponement of any definite settlement that occasioned Prince
Albert's absence from England at the Coronation, in June, 1838. His father
was invited, and received at the hands of his niece the honour of the
Order of the Garter. The Dowager Duchess of Gotha was very proud of this,
and proud also to recollect that her son-in-law possessed the noblest
knightly order of Christendom, which her own father of Hesse-Cassel, and
her father-in-law of Gotha, had also worn and treasured.
[Sidenote: OBJECTIONS TO THE MARRIAGE.]
In more than one quarter the marriage, which all members of the Coburg
family felt to be so eligible, and in which their feelings were so much
involved, met with a considerable amount of opposition. By a curious
coincidence, a Prince of Orange had been the suitor favoured by George IV.
for the hand of his daughter; but she selected the man of her own
choice--Leopold, a Coburg Prince. And a Prince of Orange (nephew of the
rejected aspirant to the hand of the Princess Charlotte) was the man
thought by William IV., as long as he lived, to be the best future husband
of his niece and successor; and his niece, too, selected, like her cousin
Charlotte, as the man of her choice, a Prince of the House of Coburg. King
William did all in his power to discourage the attachment between Victoria
and Albert. He was so strongly set against this match that he did all that
he could even to prevent Prince Albert's visit to England in 1836; and
although he never spoke to his young niece on the subject himself, she
afterwards learned that he had devised no fewer than five matrimonial
alternatives for her selection--that of the late Prince Alexander of the
Netherlands always having the preference and priority. In justice to the
memory of King William it must, however, be stated that the Dowager Queen
Adelaide afterwards told her niece that her uncle would never have striven
to control or restrain her affections if he had had any idea that they had
been strongly bestowed in any particular quarter.
It was in the early part of 1839, that King Leopold first wrote seriously
to his niece on the subject--about the same time that we have seen that he
made a similar verbal communication to his nephew. He received a
favourable response from both, but with this difference, that the lady
craved an indefinite delay. This idea of delay the Prince dealt with in a
very honest and manly manner. He had, he said, no objections to
postponement; but, nevertheless, thought he had a fair right, if he were
to keep himself free, and thereby be compelled to decline any other career
or line of life which might open itself out to him, to have some definite
assurance or understanding that the engagement would be without doubt
contracted. This concession, however, the equally natural bashfulness of
the Queen would not suffer her to make. However, all came right in the
end, and the Queen has very candidly confessed in her riper years, that if
she had known as a girl what she afterwards learned as a woman, that she
even seemed to be _playing_ with her somewhat undemonstrative but not the
less devoted lover, she would not have exacted the semi-sacrifice which
the Prince's self-respect caused him to feel uneasy at, but to which the
true courtesy of his nature induced him to submit. He _did_ wait till
1839, but the Queen afterwards learned that he came to England in that
year prepared to declare that, in the case of further postponement, he
must decline to consider himself bound in any way for the future.
[Sidenote: FIRST MEETING WITH PRINCE ALBERT.]
In October, 1839, Prince Albert, with his brother, set out from Brussels
to England, to urge his final suit. Ere leaving Germany, he had spent a
very pleasant time with his cousin, Count Albert Mensdorff, who was doing
military duty with the garrison of Mayence. They then made a short journey
together, in the course of which the one cousin confided the great secret
to the other. "During our journey," writes the Count, "Albert confided to
me, under the seal of the strictest confidence, that he was going to
England to make your acquaintance, and that if you liked each other you
were to be engaged. He spoke very seriously about the difficulties of the
position he would have to occupy in England, but hoped that dear uncle
Leopold would assist him with his advice." The Princes--Albert bearing
with him a shrewd and significant letter to the Queen from King
Leopold--arrived at Windsor on the 10th of October, where they were
cordially received by their cousin and aunt. The Queen was much struck
with the greatly improved appearance of the Prince, in the interval of
three years since she had last seen him. Gay and festive entertainments
had been arranged in their honour immediately upon their arrival. The
Queen became more and more charmed with her cousin, and within a week
after his arrival, she informed her Premier, Lord Melbourne, that she had
made up her mind to the marriage. In reply, he indicated his own perfect
satisfaction, and added that the nation was getting anxious that its
sovereign should be married; and then he said, in a kindly way, "You will
be much more comfortable; for a woman cannot stand alone for any time, in
whatever position she may be."
The following we present, without professing either to confirm or question
its accuracy, but simply as being the commonly-received report, at the
time, of the manner in which the engagement was finally effected between
the parties directly interested:--
The Prince, in his turn, played the part of a royal lover with all the
grace peculiar to his house. He never willingly absented himself from
the Queen's society and presence, and her every wish was anticipated
with the alacrity of an unfeigned attachment. At length Her Majesty,
having wholly made up her mind as to the issue of this visit, found
herself in some measure embarrassed as to the fit and proper means of
indicating her preference to the Prince. This was a perplexing task,
but the Queen acquitted herself of it with equal delicacy and tact. At
one of the Palace balls she took occasion to present her bouquet to
the Prince at the conclusion of a dance, and the hint was not lost
upon the polite and gallant German. His close uniform, buttoned up to
the throat, did not admit of his placing the Persian-like gift where
it would be most honoured; so he immediately drew his penknife and cut
a slit in his dress in the neighbourhood of his heart, where he
gracefully deposited the happy omen. Again, to announce to the Privy
Council her intended union was an easy duty in comparison to that of
intimating her wishes to the principal party concerned; and here, too,
it is said that our Sovereign Lady displayed unusual presence of mind
and female ingenuity. The Prince was expressing the grateful sense
which he entertained of his reception in England, and the delight
which he experienced during his stay from the kind attentions of
royalty, when the Queen, very naturally and very pointedly, put to him
the question upon which their future fates depended: "If, indeed, your
Highness is so much pleased with this country, perhaps you would not
object to remaining in it, and making it your home?" No one can doubt
the reply.
[Sidenote: THE BETROTHAL.]
The day after the Queen's communication to her Premier, she caused an
intimation to be conveyed to her lover that she desired to see him in
private. The Prince at once waited upon her, and after a few minutes'
general conversation, the Queen told him why she had sent for him, and
modestly but plainly said that she was quite willing now to undertake the
bond of betrothal. Of course, there was only one possible response, and
the Prince joyously wrote the next day to his trusty friend and tried
counsellor, Baron Stockmar, "on one of the happiest days of his life, to
give him the most welcome news." The betrothal was at once communicated to
Prince Ernest, to King Leopold, and to the Duke of Coburg. From these and
other relatives to whom the news, as yet to be kept a family secret, was
sent, the warmest felicitations quickly poured in. Leopold wrote,
commending Albert in the highest terms, and emphatically congratulating
Victoria on having secured an unmistakably good husband, concluding with
the prayer, "May Albert be able to strew roses without thorns on the
pathway of life of our good Victoria!"
The Queen had intended to make her first formal announcement of her
intended marriage to her Parliament; but on second thoughts, she altered
her resolve, and selected her Privy Council as the first official
recipients of the tidings. Of course, the Ministers had been already
confidentially informed of the Queen's purpose; and they strongly
counselled an early union, and both Queen and Prince acquiesced in the
proposal. After happy and rapturous days of undoubted and now
freely-acknowledged attachment, the Princes returned to Germany, on the
14th of November, after a visit lasting just five weeks; Ernest to return
to his military duties, Albert to say farewell to friends and fatherland,
ere finally returning to the region of his new life and love.
CHAPTER XIII.
THE QUEEN WEDDED.
Announcement of the intended Marriage to the Privy Council and
Parliament--Parliamentary Settlement of the Prince's Rank,
&c.--Annoying Circumstances--The Prince's Protestantism--His
Income--Arrival of the Bridegroom--Receives a National Welcome--The
Wedding--Honeymoon spent at Windsor.
On the day after the departure of the Princes, the Queen wrote letters to
the Queen Dowager, and the other members of the Royal Family, informing
them of her intended marriage, and received kind letters in return from
all. A few days later she and her mother came from Windsor to Buckingham
Palace, where Lord Melbourne submitted the draft of the proposed
Declaration to the Privy Council. His Lordship told the Queen that the
Cabinet had unanimously agreed that £50,000 would be an appropriate annual
allowance for the Prince, and that they anticipated no Parliamentary
opposition to that amount. He also stated that there had been a stupid
attempt to make it out that he was a Roman Catholic, and that "he was
afraid to say anything about his religion," and accordingly had not
touched upon it in the Declaration. This turned out, as we shall see, a
very unwise omission; it actually gave colour and consistency to the
absurd report.
[Sidenote: ANNOUNCEMENT OF THE BETROTHAL.]
On the 23rd of November, eighty-three members of the Privy Council met in
Buckingham Palace. Precisely at two the Queen entered. She evinced much
natural agitation, but was considerably reassured by a kindly and paternal
look from her staunch friend, Lord Melbourne; whereupon she read the
Declaration, which ran thus:--
I have caused you to be summoned at the present time in order that I
may acquaint you with my resolution in a matter which deeply concerns
the welfare of my people, and the happiness of my future life. It is
my intention to ally myself in marriage with the Prince Albert of
Saxe-Coburg and Gotha. Deeply impressed with the solemnity of the
engagement which I am about to contract, I have not come to this
decision without mature consideration, nor without feeling a strong
assurance that, with the blessing of Almighty God, it will at once
secure my domestic felicity and serve the interests of my country. I
have thought fit to make this resolution known to you at the earliest
period, in order that you may be apprised of a matter so highly
important to me and to my kingdom, and which, I persuade myself, will
be most acceptable to all my loving subjects.
The moment the Queen had read the Declaration, Lord Lansdowne rose and
asked, in the name of the Council, that "this most gracious and most
welcome communication might be printed." Leave was granted, and Her
Majesty left the room, the whole ceremony having occupied only two or
three minutes. The Duke of Cambridge followed his niece into the
ante-room, and warmly congratulated her. The Declaration appeared in the
next _Gazette_, whence it was copied into all the newspapers, and was
joyfully read and received over the whole land.
There were now important questions to be settled, in Parliament, in the
Council, and by the exercise of the Royal prerogative, as to the future
rank and station of the Prince. Such were--Should he be made a peer? as
had been the last consort of an English Queen, Prince George of Denmark,
the husband of Queen Anne, of whom the only good thing that can be said
is, that he accidentally made Arbuthnot, Pope's great friend and
fellow-labourer, his Court physician. The idea of being made a peer was
strenuously, sensibly, and successfully resisted by the Prince. Then there
were the practical questions of his naturalisation, the selection of his
Household, his position in the scale of precedence, and his income. So far
as the Prince legitimately could and did meddle with the solution of these
knotty points, he showed, when necessary, great sagacity, and a firmness
very wondrous in one so young. From the very moment of his betrothal, he
regarded himself as the custodian and guardian of his future wife's,
rather than his own, independent position and unfettered dignity. It was
not himself, but the husband of the Queen on behalf of whom he took a firm
line.
The Queen wished to give her husband precedence next after herself. Some
difficulty was experienced in procuring the consent of the Royal Dukes,
but at last their scruples were removed. Only the King of Hanover
stubbornly held out, and the Duke of Wellington, in the House of Peers,
declined on behalf of his party to consent. The proposal was, therefore,
withdrawn from Parliament, but shortly after the Queen conferred a patent
of precedence by the exercise of her own prerogative. On a similar matter
of dispute, it was not until the Prince himself had pointed out the
unaccountably overlooked precedent of the privilege as enjoyed by Prince
Leopold in the life-time of the Princess Charlotte, that Garter
King-at-Arms could be induced to withdraw his opinion adverse to Prince
Albert quartering the Royal Arms of England with his own.
In the matter of his Household, the Prince's own admirable judgment solved
the difficulty with the clear adroitness of honest simplicity. He
stipulated that considerations of party should have nothing to do with
these appointments; that they should be filled by men of undoubted probity
and purity of character; and he indicated his decided wish that they
should be men of some kind of eminence; either very rich, very clever, or
men who had deserved well of their country in the field of science or of
arms. These wishes, to the Prince's considerable annoyance, were not all
closely followed out.
[Sidenote: ANNOUNCEMENT TO PARLIAMENT.]
The Queen was tremendously cheered when, in January, 1840, she went to
open Parliament, and no doubt was left in her mind as to the thorough
popularity of the proposed union. The announcement of her intention
contained in the Speech was a virtual repetition of that already made to
the Council. From both sides of both Houses she was personally
congratulated, and her choice approved, but the Duke of Wellington
strongly objected to the omission of the statement that the Prince was a
Protestant, with some shrewdness attributing its absence to Melbourne's
reluctance to irritate his Irish Catholic supporters. The Duke at the same
time repeated again and again his own perfect personal conviction in the
thorough fidelity of the Prince to the historic and heroic Protestantism
of his race. Lord Brougham spoke on this point, and very pertinently: "I
may remark," he said, "that my noble friend (Lord Melbourne) is mistaken
as to the law. There is no prohibition as to marriage with a Catholic. It
is only attended with a penalty, and that penalty _is merely the
forfeiture of the Crown_." In spite of this, a sentence asserting the fact
of the Prince's Protestantism was, at the Duke of Wellington's instance,
inserted in the Address agreed to in answer to the Speech from the Throne.
There remained only the question of the Prince's annuity. Ministers
proposed £50,000. A very large majority negatived a proposal by Mr. Hume
to reduce it to £20,000. But the Tory leaders supported a proposal of
Colonel Sibthorpe's to reduce it to £30,000, and by a considerable
majority this was carried. The Queen, and her uncle Leopold, were
extremely angry at the time at what they conceived to be the personal
slight conveyed in this fact. But the Queen, under the wise and placable
guidance of the Prince, afterwards learned to attribute it to the then
heat of party rancour, still unallayed after the Bedchamber dispute; and
the Prince at an early period of his residence in England contracted warm
and abiding friendships with many of the men who had most strongly
resisted Ministers on each of the above contested points.
On the 28th of January, Prince Albert, accompanied by Lord Torrington and
Colonel (now General) Grey, who had been sent to invest him with the
insignia of the Garter and conduct him in due state to England, set out
from Gotha, as we have already seen at a previous page. He was also
accompanied by his father and brother. After a passing visit to King
Leopold at Brussels, they were met at Calais by Lord Clarence Paget, who
commanded the _Firebrand_, and escorted the distinguished visitors to the
shores of England, at which they arrived on the 6th of February. After
magnificent and most hearty receptions at Dover and Canterbury, they
reached Buckingham Palace in the afternoon of Saturday, the 8th of
February, where the Prince found his bride standing with her mother at
the door, ready to be the first to meet and to greet him. Half an hour
later, the Lord Chancellor administered the oath of naturalisation, and
the Prince became a subject of Queen Victoria. A grand dinner to the
Prince, the Ministers, and the great officers of State succeeded in the
evening. The next day the Prince drove out, amid the cheers of immense
crowds, to pay formal visits to all the members of the Royal Family.
[Sidenote: THE WEDDING.]
Monday, the 10th, was the day appointed for the wedding, which was
magnificently celebrated in the Chapel Royal of St. James's Palace. On the
morning of that day a larger crowd assembled in St. James's Park and its
approaches than had been collected together in the metropolis since the
rejoicings at the visit of the Allied Sovereigns in 1814. Not even the
extreme inclemency of the weather abated either the patience or enthusiasm
of the multitude. After the ladies and gentlemen of the Households of the
Queen and the Prince had been driven along the Mall from the palace of
residence to the palace of state, and the carriages which conveyed them
had returned, the bridegroom was notified that all was in readiness for
his departure. He set out, dressed as a British field-marshal, and with
all the insignia of the Garter, the jewels of which had been a personal
present from the Queen, having on one side his father and on the other his
brother, both in military uniforms. He entered his carriage amid
tremendous cheers, and the enthusiastic waving of handkerchiefs by a bevy
of ladies privileged to stand in the grand lobbies of the palace, and was
escorted to the chapel by a squadron of the Life Guards. On the return of
the carriages which carried the Prince and his company, Her Majesty was
in turn apprised that all was in readiness for her departure. She, too,
was enthusiastically received, "but her eye was bent principally upon the
ground." In the same carriage with the Queen rode the Duchesses of Kent
and Sutherland. It was noticed as she drove along that she was extremely
pale, and looked very anxious, though two or three incidents in the crowd
caused her to smile.
On her arrival at her palace of St. James's, the Queen was conducted to
the Presence Chamber, where she remained with her maids-of-honour and
trainbearers, awaiting the Lord Chamberlain's summons to the altar.
Meanwhile, the colonnade within the palace, along which the bridal
procession had to pass and repass, had been filled since early morn by the
élite of England's rank and beauty. Each side of the way was a parterre of
white robes, white relieved with blue, white and green, amber, crimson,
purple, fawn, and stone colour. All wore wedding favours of lace,
orange-flower blossoms, or silver bullion, some of great size, and many in
most exquisite taste. Most of the gentlemen were in court dress; and the
scene during the patient hours of waiting was made picturesque by the
passing to and fro in various garbs of burly yeomen of the guard, armed
with their massive halberts, slight-built gentlemen-at-arms, with
partisans of equal slightness; elderly pages of state, and pretty pages of
honour; officers of the Lord Chamberlain, and officers of the Woods and
Forests; heralds all embroidery, and cuirassiers in polished steel;
prelates in their rochets, and priests in their stoles, and singing boys
in their surplices of virgin white.
Within the chapel, in which the altar was magnificently decorated and
laden with a profusion of gold plate, four state chairs were set, varying
in splendour according to the rank of the destined occupants, respectively
for Her Majesty, Prince Albert, the Queen Dowager, and the Duchess of
Kent. The Archbishops of Canterbury and York, and the Bishop of London,
having taken their places within the altar-rails, a flourish of trumpets
announced the procession of the bridegroom. As the Prince passed along,
the gentlemen greeted him with loud clapping of the hands, and the ladies
waved their handkerchiefs with at least equal enthusiasm.
[Sidenote: THE BRIDESMAIDS.]
In a few minutes the procession of the bride was announced by trumpets and
drums. It was of six or seven times the numerical strength of the
bridegroom's, and the beauty of the twelve bridesmaids, all daughters of
peers of the three highest grades, was specially commended. The Duchess of
Cambridge led by the hand her then child-daughter, the Princess Mary, "and
the mother of so beautiful a child was certainly not to be seen without
much interest." The Duchess of Kent appeared "disconsolate and
distressed;" while the Duke of Sussex, who was to give away the bride, was
"in excellent spirits." The Queen herself looked "anxious and excited, and
paler even than usual." She was dressed in a rich white satin, trimmed
with orange-flower blossoms. She wore a wreath of the same, over which was
a veil of rich Honiton lace, worn so as not to conceal her face. She wore
as jewels the Collar of the Order of the Garter, with a diamond necklace
and earrings. The bridesmaids were the Ladies Adelaide Paget, Sarah
Villiers, Frances Cowper, Elizabeth West, Mary Grimston, Eleanor Paget,
Caroline Lennox, Elizabeth Howard, Ida Hay, Catherine Stanhope, Jane
Bouverie, and Mary Howard.
After the conclusion of the marriage rite, the Queen hastily crossed to
the opposite side of the altar, and kissed the Queen Dowager, who was
standing there. She then took Prince Albert's hand, and passed down the
aisle. On the return to Buckingham Palace, it was observed that the
Prince, still retaining the Queen's hand in his own, whether by accident
or design, held it in such a way as to display the wedding-ring, which was
more solid than is usual in ordinary weddings. When the Queen had been led
into the palace by her husband, it was observed that her morning paleness
had entirely passed off, and that she entered her own halls with an open,
joyous, and slightly flushed countenance.
After the wedding breakfast the young couple departed, at a quarter before
four, for Windsor, amid the cheers of the undiminished multitude. Her
Majesty's travelling dress was a white satin pelisse, trimmed with
swansdown, with a white satin bonnet and feather. As the cortége passed
rapidly up Constitution Hill, the Queen bowed in return to the cheers of
her applauding subjects with much earnestness of manner. When the Queen
and Prince arrived at Windsor, they found the whole town illuminated, and
received a rapturous welcome from the citizens and the Eton boys, all
wearing favours.
[Sidenote: THE WEDDING-CAKE.]
We shall conclude this chapter, which we shall not desecrate by devoting
to any other deity than Hymen, by a brief description of the Queen's
wedding-cake, which, fortunately for our enterprise, we have succeeded in
disinterring from the contemporary records. It was described by an
eye-witness as consisting of all the most exquisite compounds of all the
rich things with which the most expensive cakes can be composed, mingled
and mixed together with delightful harmony by the most elaborate science
of the confectioner. It weighed 300 pounds, was three yards in
circumference, and fourteen inches in depth. On the top was a device of
Britannia blessing the bride and bridegroom, who were dressed, somewhat
incongruously, in the costume of ancient Rome. At the foot of the
bridegroom was the figure of a dog, intended to denote fidelity; at the
feet of the Queen a pair of turtle-doves. A host of gamboling Cupids, one
of them registering the marriage in a book, and bouquets of white flowers
tied with true-lovers' knots, completed the decorations.
CHAPTER XIV.
EARLY YEARS OF MARRIED LIFE.
Difficulties and Delicacy of Prince Albert's Position--Early Married
Life--Studies continued--Attempts on the Queen's Life--Courage of the
Queen--Birth of the Princess Royal--Parting from the Whig Ladies of
the Bedchamber--Dark Days for England--Birth of the Prince of
Wales--The Queen described by M. Guizot--A Dinner at Buckingham
Palace--State Dinner at Windsor.
The Queen was now married to the husband of her choice. "It is that," said
Lord Melbourne to her, "which makes your Majesty's marriage so popular, as
they know it is not for state reasons." A few months after the
wedding-day, the Prince wrote to an old college associate--"I am very
happy and contented." After the wedding, the young couple stayed for four
days at Windsor, reading, riding, walking together, and giving small
dinner parties in the evening. They then returned to Buckingham Palace,
where a large crowd had collected to welcome them, and fairly commenced
the common duties of their married life. At first it would appear that
jealousies, in quarters which need not be specified, prevented the Prince
taking his proper position as the head of his home and household. He wrote
to his friend, Prince Löwenstein, in May, 1840--"I am only the husband,
not the master in the house." But the common sense of the Queen, and the
dignity of the Prince, soon set this matter to rights. When urged that
she, as being Sovereign, must be the head of the house, she quietly
rejoined that she had sworn to obey, as well as love and honour, her
husband, and that she was determined to keep all her bridal troth. She
communicated all foreign despatches to him, and frequently he made
annotations on them, which were communicated to the Minister whose
department they affected. He had often the satisfaction of discovering
that the Minister, though he might say nothing on the subject,
nevertheless acted upon his suggestions. His correspondence to Germany
soon bore a very different tone and complexion. To use his own words, and
slightly expand them, he "endeavoured to be of as much use to Victoria as
possible." The Queen now, having received the approval of the Duke of
Wellington, whom she consulted as a confidential friend, for the first
time put her husband in his proper place, by giving him, by Royal Letters
Patent, to which Parliamentary sanction is not required, rank and
precedence next to herself, except in Parliament and the Privy Council.
[Sidenote: EARLY MARRIED DAYS.]
Frequent levées, and "dinners followed by little dances," formed the chief
amusements of the young couple in the earliest stage of their married
life. They went much, too, to the play, both having an especial relish for
and admiration of Shakespeare. The Queen, although now a married woman, by
no means neglected useful or solacing and refining studies. She took
singing lessons from Lablache, and frequently sang and played with the
Prince, sometimes using the piano, sometimes the organ as accompaniment.
They went to Claremont, the Queen's favourite youthful haunt, to celebrate
her birthday, and continued to do so, even after the purchase of Osborne,
until 1848, when Claremont was given as a residence to the ex-Queen of the
French. Both Queen and Prince were extremely glad to get away from the
smoke and grime of London. In fact, these constituted a peculiar source of
physical oppression to both; and they were always glad to retire to the
rural quiet and seclusion of Claremont.
[Sidenote: THE QUEEN SHOT AT.]
The first alarming incident of the Queen's wedded life occurred on the
10th of June, 1840. In her first early days of maiden queenhood, she had
been annoyed by madmen wanting to marry her. On more than one occasion her
saddle-horse was attempted to be stopped in the Park by one of such
maniacs, as she was attended by an equerry; and in two instances similar
attempts were made by innocent lunatics to force their way into Windsor
Castle, in each case armed with nothing more deadly than a proposal of
marriage. But what we are about to narrate was a much more serious matter.
There is no denying the fact, that, after the first two years of her
reign, the Queen was, for a time, by no means so popular as she had been.
Her ministers were eminently unpopular, and to no slight extent she shared
their unpopularity. Appalling distress prevailed, and Chartism and other
more dangerous forms of sedition were rife. The poor asked how so much
money could be spent on the Queen's hospitable entertainments, while they
were starving; and inquired how it was that the name of Lord Melbourne,
who should be supposed to have work enough to do looking after the affairs
of the distressed nation, should appear in the newspapers almost every day
as attending some of Her Majesty's banquets. Occasionally during the
summer she was received in public in silence, and once or twice, in
theatres and elsewhere, disagreeable cries were heard. More than once
during this and one or two succeeding years, pistol-shots were fired at
her. We select one, and the first attack upon her, as a type of the
others. A youth named Oxford, some seventeen or eighteen years of age,
either a fool or a madman, fired two pistol-shots at her, as she and her
husband were driving in a phaeton up Constitution Hill. He was at once
arrested, and it being impossible to assign any conceivable cause for the
act, he was declared insane, and doomed to incarceration for life. Neither
the Queen nor the Prince were injured, and both showed the utmost
self-possession.
Perhaps the best proof of her bravery on the occasion of this outrage, as
it was an unquestionable proof of her tenderness of heart, was the fact
that within a minute or two after the shot of Oxford had been fired, she
had the horses' heads turned towards her mother's house, that her mother
should see her sound and uninjured, ere an exaggerated or indiscreetly
communicated report of the occurrence could reach her. Immediately after,
she drove to Hyde Park, whither she had been proceeding before the outrage
occurred, to take her usual drive before dinner. An immense concourse of
persons of all ranks and both sexes had assembled, and the enthusiasm of
her reception almost overpowered her. Prince Albert's face, alternately
pale and flushed, betrayed the strength of his emotions. They returned to
Buckingham Palace attended by a most magnificent escort of the rank and
beauty of London, on horseback and in carriages. A great crowd of a
humbler sort was at the Palace gates to greet her, and it was said that
she did not lose her composure until a flood of tears relieved her
pent-up excitement in her own chamber. "God save the Queen" was demanded
at all the theatres in the evening, and in the immediately succeeding days
the Queen received, seated on her throne, loyal and congratulatory
addresses from the Peers in their robes, and wearing all their
decorations; from the Commons, from the City Corporation, and many other
public bodies.
Oxford was incarcerated in Bethlehem Hospital, one of the great
metropolitan lunatic asylums, in which he remained many years, and of
which he was made one of the chief "sights" by its visitors. Perhaps it
was this circumstance that induced the authorities to order his removal to
Broadmoor, the state prison in which persons charged with felonious
crimes, whose lunacy has been established, have within recent years been
confined. There he remained until the commencement of the winter months of
1867. During all the weary period which intervened between the
perpetration of his offence and that date his conduct was exemplary, and
no evidence of mental aberration appeared. At various times appeals were
made in his behalf by influential persons who had the opportunity of
watching his demeanour and judging his character. His own representation
from first to last ever was that the pistol which he fired was not loaded.
He attributed the act which so nearly cost him his life and which wasted
the best years of his existence, to inordinate vanity, fostered by a
variety of trivial circumstances in his domestic life, on which it is not
necessary to dwell, and which led to a senseless desire--similar to that
which has perpetuated the name of Erostratus, the incendiary who fired the
Temple of Diana at Ephesus--to gain notoriety by whatever means. To a
certain extent he educated himself during his confinement, and became a
tolerable linguist. He also taught himself that branch of the
house-painter's trade termed "graining," sufficiently well to enable him
to earn a decent livelihood. At last, late in 1867, he received a free
pardon and release, subject only to the very proper provision that he
should expatriate himself and never return to British shores. The same
mania, or silly senselessness, might break out again, and it is manifestly
right that the person of the Sovereign should be protected from the vanity
of a man who, at however distant a period, could commit the cowardly
outrage of which he was the author.
When, a year or two later, the Queen was again providentially saved from
similar felonious attempts, their character being of the same nature as
that of Oxford's, a strong feeling animated the general public mind that
some special deterrent should be devised to prevent or reduce the
likelihood of such maniacal or quasi-maniacal deeds. An Act of Parliament
was accordingly passed, ere the close of the Session of 1843, by which
severe flogging was imposed as part punishment in all such cases. It had
the desired effect. From the period of its enactment until now, attempts
to take the Queen's life, and minor assaults upon her person, have been
almost entirely unknown.
[Sidenote: BIRTH OF THE PRINCESS ROYAL.]
On the afternoon of the 21st of November, the country was gladdened by the
birth of the Queen's first-born, the Princess Royal, now Crown Princess of
Prussia. The event occurred considerably before the period anticipated by
the Queen's medical and other attendants, and preparations had to be made
in a hurry. Nevertheless, the Queen soon regained her accustomed health,
and so rapidly that we find it recorded that on the day before that
appointed for the christening, she and a lady of the Court, exercising
their strength and preserving their presence of mind, rescued the Prince
from a most perilous if not fatal position. He had been skating,
accompanied only by the Queen and one Lady-in-waiting, and had fallen
through the ice in such a position that he could not possibly have
extricated himself.
Two days after the Princess was born, Mr. Selwyn, a gentleman with whom
Prince Albert was reading English law and constitutional history, came to
give his pupil his accustomed lesson. The Prince said to him, "I fear I
cannot read any law to-day, there are so many constantly coming to
congratulate; but you will like to see the little Princess." He took his
tutor into the nursery, as he found that the child was asleep. Taking her
hand, he said, "The next time we read, it must be on the rights and duties
of a Princess Royal."
In 1841 Lord Melbourne was no longer Prime Minister. Sir Robert Peel, who
had gained the largest Parliamentary majority which had been known for
many years, reigned in his stead. The Queen made no difficulty about the
Ladies of the Household now. Her tastes and feelings were consulted with
great delicacy and consideration by the Premier, and the selection of the
Duchess of Buccleuch in the first instance as Mistress of the Robes, which
post may be termed the female Premiership of the Household, was especially
gratifying to Her Majesty. But her heart was, nevertheless, loth to part
with the constant female companions of the first four years of her reign.
Thursday, September the 2nd, was the last evening she spent with them. At
the dinner-table she could scarcely trust herself to speak, and she is
reported to have shed bitter tears when she retired with her ladies.
Everybody pitied the young Sovereign, and saw and felt the hardship
involved. But it was an inevitable accompaniment of her high position.
[Sidenote: BIRTH OF THE PRINCE OF WALES.]
The heir to the throne adorned by Queen Victoria was born in the midst of
one of the very darkest periods of English history. In 1841 the condition
of the people had been declining from the beginning of the year.
Operatives were on half time--at last they had no work at all--and the few
who had had the means or the will to be provident, were living on their
savings. Public meetings were being held to consider what was to be done,
and public subscriptions were opened. Then the idle hands commenced to
meet in large numbers, with a sullen look of despair, waiting for death or
alms--a comparatively small number being employed at the expense of
municipal and other recognised bodies, in road making or road mending.
Crime, which follows pauperism as surely and almost as rapidly as the
obscene vulture pounces upon the carrion which is not yet cold, was rife;
murders came in multitudes, poisonings by wholesale; murders by trades
unionists, murders by thieves. It was when this dark cloud lowered over
England--a cloud never completely dispelled until the rise of the great
and glorious Free Trade sun, five years later--that the Prince of Wales
first breathed. A _London Gazette_ extraordinary, which appeared on
Tuesday evening, November the 9th, ran as follows:--
Buckingham Palace, Nov. 9th.
This morning, at twelve minutes before eleven o'clock, the Queen was
happily delivered of a Prince, His Royal Highness Prince Albert, Her
Royal Highness the Duchess of Kent, several Lords of Her Majesty's
Most Honourable Privy Council, and the Ladies of Her Majesty's
Bedchamber, being present.
This great and important news was immediately made known to the town
by the firing of the Tower and Park guns; and the Privy Council being
assembled as soon as possible thereupon, at the Council Chamber,
Whitehall, it was ordered that a Form of Thanksgiving be prepared by
His Grace the Archbishop of Canterbury, to be used in all churches and
chapels throughout England and Wales and the town of
Berwick-upon-Tweed, on Sunday, the 14th of November, or the Sunday
after the respective ministers shall receive the same.
Her Majesty and the infant Prince are, God be praised, both doing
well.
The joy of the nation at the succession to the crown in the progeny of the
Queen and Prince Albert being thus secured, was excessive. Upon the
announcement of the happy accouchement, the nobility and gentry crowded to
the Palace to tender their dutiful inquiries as to the Sovereign's
convalescence. Amongst others, came the Lord Mayor and civic dignitaries
in great state. They felt peculiarly proud that the Prince should have
been born on Lord Mayor's day; in fact, just at the very moment when the
time-honoured procession was starting from the City for Westminster. In
memory of the happy coincidence, the Lord Mayor of the year, Mr. Pirie,
was created Sir John Pirie, Baronet. On the 4th of December, the Queen
created her son by Letters Patent, Prince of Wales and Earl of
Chester:--"And him, our said and most dear son, the Prince of the United
Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, as has been accustomed, we do
ennoble and invest with the said Principality and Earldom, by girding him
with a sword, by putting a coronet on his head, and a gold ring on his
finger, and also by delivering a gold rod into his hand, that he may
preside there, and direct and defend those parts." By the fact of his
birth as Heir-Apparent, the Prince indefeasibly inherited, without the
necessity of patent or creation, these dignities--the titles of Duke of
Saxony, by right of his father; and, by right of his mother, Duke of
Cornwall, Duke of Rothsay, Earl of Carrick, Baron of Renfrew, Lord of the
Isles, and Great Steward of Scotland.
[Sidenote: AN EMBASSY FROM FRANCE.]
In the early spring of 1840, the distinguished French statesman, M.
Guizot, came over to England, being sent hither by the French Premier,
Marshal Soult, on a special mission with reference to those complications
in the East, which culminated the following year in that war between the
Sultan Mahmoud and his vassal Mehemet Ali, in which British tars under
Stopford and "Charley Napier" played so conspicuous a part. His pacific
mission was a failure, and from its failure dates, first the loosening,
and then the severance, of the close relations which subsisted for eleven
years after 1830 between the Courts of St. James's and the Tuileries.
King Louis Philippe had conveyed to M. Guizot his desire that he should
take the first opportunity of recalling to the Queen the intimacy which he
had maintained with her father, the Duke of Kent; and Guizot resolved to
remind Her Majesty of the circumstance when he was received by her on
presenting his letters of credence. He prudently, however, asked Lord
Palmerston, on whom, as Foreign Secretary, devolved the duty of presenting
him, whether such a communication would be agreeable. Lord Palmerston
instantly replied in the negative. He stated that the reception would be
a purely official formality, and gave him to understand that the Queen
would much prefer not having to reply to any speech. He therefore
determined to abstain from making one. On the last day of February, he
received a note at ten minutes past one from Lord Palmerston, stating that
the Queen would be glad to receive him that day at one o'clock. Guizot
immediately sent to Palmerston "to explain the delay, and his own
innocence." He then dressed with all speed, and reached Buckingham Palace
a little before two. Precisely at the moment of his arrival, Lord
Palmerston's carriage also drove up. He told Guizot that the Queen's
orders had been forwarded to him (Palmerston) too late. Luckily, the Queen
had other audiences to give, which occupied her fully until the appearance
of the two astute and rival diplomats. But another difficulty arose. There
was no Master of Ceremonies at hand to introduce him. Sir Robert Chester,
who held that post, had received his summons, as tardily as that which had
been sent to Lord Palmerston. That gentleman had not hastened his
movements so rapidly as the active Frenchman. Although a breach of form,
Lord Palmerston, therefore, undertook and performed the office of Sir
Robert. The Queen received Guizot "with a gracious manner at once youthful
and serious." He remarked that the dignity of her manner caused one to
forget the smallness of her stature. On entering, he said, "I trust,
Madam, that your Majesty is aware of my excuse, for of myself [that is, if
the blame of unpunctuality rested with me] I should be inexcusable." She
smiled in return, as if little surprised at, and quite used to, the want
of punctuality. After all, in spite of Lord Palmerston's instructions to
him, the Queen did grant him, in the strict and literal sense of the term,
an audience. Though short, it was long enough to enable the Queen to chat
with him, and inquire about his Sovereign, his consort, and their family.
The Queen, of course, was warmly interested about the Orleans family, for
one of the daughters of its head was the second wife of her uncle, King
Leopold, and, therefore, her matrimonial aunt. So that Guizot _did_ find
and embrace the opportunity of reminding the Queen of the intimacy between
his royal master and her father.
[Sidenote: M. GUIZOT AT BUCKINGHAM PALACE.]
As he was retiring, Lord Palmerston, who remained a moment or two with the
Queen, after she had bid M. Guizot adieu, said hastily to him, "There is
something more; I am going to introduce you to Prince Albert and the
Duchess of Kent; you could not otherwise be presented to them, except at
the next levée, on the 6th of March, but it is necessary, on the contrary,
that on that day you should be already old friends." These further
presentations were, accordingly, made; Guizot being struck with the
political intelligence which the conversation of the Prince, in spite of
his constitutional reserve, displayed. Guizot left the palace greatly
pleased with his reception. As he passed through the hall, he saw the
Master of Ceremonies in hot haste descending from his carriage, and
"anxious to apologise to him, with temper somewhat ruffled, for his
involuntary uselessness."
An invitation to dinner at Buckingham Palace for five days after quickly
reached him at his residence, Hertford House. He remarked on the want of
animation and interest in the conversation, whether at the dinner-table or
in the drawing-room. Politics of any kind, home or foreign, were,
apparently to his surprise, strictly avoided. When the gentlemen joined
the ladies, which, throughout the Queen's reign, has been at a very short
interval after the departure of the latter from the dining-room, they all
sat on chairs round a circular table set before the Queen, who occupied a
sofa. Two or three of her ladies engaged themselves in fancy work; Prince
Albert challenged some one to a game at chess. Lady Palmerston and M.
Guizot, "with some effort," carried on a flagging dialogue. The
conversation being thus flat, M. Guizot took to looking at the pictures on
the walls, of which there were but three, hung over the different doors of
the apartment. He was very much astonished at the extraordinary contrasts
in the subjects of these pictures. They certainly were most incongruous.
One was Fénélon, the second the Czar Peter, and the third Anne Hyde, the
discarded wife of James II. He asked one of his fellow-guests whether the
combination was intentional or an accident? But he could get no
satisfaction on the subject. No one had remarked the combination, and no
one could tell the reason for it.
At the levée which he attended the day following, he was still more
astounded and perplexed. He thought its presentations and other
paraphernalia "a long and monotonous ceremony." Yet it inspired this keen
and philosophic student of men and manners with "real interest." We shall
allow M. Guizot, ere we finally leave his companionship, to express his
views on this peculiarly English institution in his own words:--"I
regarded with excited esteem the profound respect of that vast
assembly--courtiers, citizens, lawyers, churchmen, officers, military and
naval, passing before the Queen, the greater portion bending the knee to
kiss her hand, all perfectly solemn, sincere, and awkward. The sincerity
and seriousness were both needed to prevent those antiquated habits, wigs,
and bags, those costumes which no one in England now wears except on such
occasions, from appearing somewhat ridiculous. But I am little sensible to
the outward appearance of absurdity when the substance partakes not of
that character."
[Sidenote: FANCY BALL AT COURT.]
As a companion picture of the Queen at home at this epoch of her reign,
for the lineaments of which we have acknowledged our indebtedness to M.
Guizot, we present these recollections of the Queen in her young married
days, which we condense from a gossiping work by Lord William Lennox. The
Queen had a splendid new ballroom built in Buckingham Palace, and nothing
could exceed the brilliancy of the entertainments which she gave there. To
one of these, in 1842, Lord Lennox received an invitation. It was a _bal
costumé_, the first, he believed, which had ever been given in England by
a Prince of the House of Brunswick. A second ball, in which, unlike the
former, the dresses were confined to the reigns of George II. and III.,
was given in the same year. All had to appear in powder--a somewhat trying
ordeal to such ladies and gentlemen as did not possess fine features.
[Sidenote: A STATE BANQUET AT WINDSOR.]
Somewhat about the same time, Lord Lennox dined at Windsor Castle, at the
great banquet given on the Ascot Cup day. A magnificent déjeuner had been
served for luncheon on the course in Tippoo Sahib's tent. At the dinner in
the evening, the first thing which struck one who was a guest for the
first time on such an occasion, was the exact punctuality of the Queen
and Prince. Although necessarily fatigued with the bustle and excitement
of the day, they were in the drawing-room some minutes before the dinner
was announced, and after a courteous greeting to all the guests, proceeded
at once to dinner. Another observable peculiarity was that the Prince left
the table twenty minutes after the ladies. The banqueting-room on this
great occasion was St. George's Hall, splendid with its ceiling emblazoned
with the arms of the Knights of the Garter from the institution of the
order, and the portraits of our kings from James I. to George IV. At each
end of the hall, buffets, seventeen feet high and forty broad, were set.
They were of rich fretted Gothic framework, covered with crimson cloth,
and brilliant with massive gold plate. Immediately opposite the Queen was
set a pyramid of plate, its apex being the tiger's head captured at
Seringapatam, and comprising the "Iluma" of precious stones which Lord
Wellesley, the Governor-General of India, presented to George IV. The
table, which was laid for a hundred guests, extended the whole length of
the hall. All down the centre, epergnes, vases, cups, and candelabra were
ranged, the celebrated St. George's candelabrum being opposite Her
Majesty. The hall was splendidly illuminated, and two bands of the Guards
discoursed sweet music from a balcony. The Yeomen of the Guard stood on
duty at the entrance. The repast, which did ample justice to the merits of
the Queen's renowned _cuisiniér_, Francatelli, was entirely served in gold
plate, and the attendance was so faultless that there was less bustle and
confusion than usually attend a repast shared by a party of ten or a
dozen. At a quarter to nine grace was said; and after the dessert and wine
had been placed on the table, the Lord Steward rose and proposed, without
remark, "The Queen." The Queen simply, when the toast had been drunk,
bowed her acknowledgments. After a brief pause, the health of Prince
Albert was drunk standing, as the Queen's had been, the band playing the
"Coburg March." At half-past nine the Queen rose, and, accompanied by the
Duchess of Kent, was followed by all the ladies to the drawing-room. In
about twenty minutes all the gentlemen followed. The Waterloo Chamber was
thrown open, and its rich historical and pictorial treasures were keenly
inspected by groups of the guests. Amongst others of its chief ornaments,
attention was concentrated on the swords of the Pretenders James and
Charles, Prince Rupert's coat of mail, and the magnificent shield, by
Cellini, presented by Francis I. to King Henry VIII., at the Field of the
Cloth of Gold. But the great treat of the evening was the appearance of
Madame Rachel, who, with two or three French actors, gave _morceaux_ from
her principal impersonations. The success of her performance was the more
conspicuous that it was entirely unaided by scenery, dress, or other
histrionic accompaniment. A little before twelve the Queen, after
addressing with the utmost grace some words of courteous appreciation to
the great _tragedienne_, and bowing to the assembled guests, retired,
leaning on her husband's arm.
CHAPTER XV.
THE QUEEN IN SCOTLAND.
Christening of the Prince of Wales--Manufacturing Distress--Queen's
Efforts to alleviate it--Assesses Herself to the Income Tax--Resolves
to Visit Scotland--Embarks at Woolwich--Beacon Fires in the Firth of
Forth--Landing on Scottish Soil--A Disappointment--Formal Entry into
Edinburgh--Richness of Historical and Ancestral Associations--The
Queen on the Castle Rock--A Highland Welcome--Departure from Scotland.
The Session of 1842 was opened by the Queen in person with unusual
splendour, which was enhanced by the presence of the King of Prussia, who
had come over to stand sponsor to the Prince of Wales. The christening was
performed on the 25th of January, and was attended with all due
magnificence, and succeeded by a splendid banquet. Mr. Raikes, in his
amusing, valuable journal, thus records the event:--
_Tuesday, 25th._--The day of the Royal christening at Windsor. The
Prince of Wales is named Albert Edward. All who have been there say
that the scene was very magnificent, and the display of plate at the
banquet superb. After the ceremony a silver-embossed vessel containing
a whole hogshead of mulled claret was introduced, and served in
bucketfuls to the company, who drank the young Prince's health. Very
few ladies were invited.
[Sidenote: NATIONAL DISTRESS AND ROYAL SYMPATHY.]
The Queen's speech of this year noticed with deep regret the continued
distress in the manufacturing districts of the country, and bore testimony
to the exemplary patience and fortitude with which it had been borne.
Many people began once more to murmur at the continued flow of gaiety at
Windsor where the young parents still seemed to experience the first
thrills of transport at the birth of a son and heir. Some of the lowest
class of seditious newspapers began the practice of printing in parallel
columns the description of the fancy dresses at the Queen's balls (the
purchase and preparation of which must certainly have tended to alleviate
the distress), &c., and reports from the pauperised districts, records of
deaths from starvation, and the like. Among the unthinking classes such
disloyal practices produced a very deep feeling of dissatisfaction. In the
course of the year two attempts were reported as having been made upon the
Queen's life: one, however, being merely the freak of an ill-natured boy,
but the other was of a much more serious description, and cost its author
transportation for life. Sir Robert Peel felt it his duty to discharge the
part of a faithful Minister, and to counsel his Royal mistress to lessen
the gaieties of the Court, even if it were only in deference to the
prejudices of the starving and maddened poor. He neither roused nor
augmented her fears, but gave her the counsel which the time required. The
Queen at once acted, and without taking offence, upon the Minister's
advice. At the christening of the Prince of Wales all the ladies of the
Court appeared in Paisley shawls, English lace, and other articles of home
manufacture. And when the christening was over a marked sobriety settled
down over the Court, and continued during all the summer of 1842. Even the
most querulous speedily granted that they had no reason to complain.
This change in the sentiments of the public, especially its lower and more
distressed portions, was promoted and accelerated by an act, equally
tasteful and touching, of Her Majesty during this year. In the spring of
1842, Sir Robert Peel, now thoroughly warm in his seat as Premier,
commanding a large working majority, and not yet having awakened the
hostility of the decidedly Protectionist section of his followers,
inaugurated that splendid series of bravely devised measures in the
direction of Free Trade, of which the great Anti-Corn Law Act of four
years later was, so far as he was concerned, the culmination. In 1842,
Peel proposed and carried a Budget which considerably lessened the burden
of Customs imposts, but the chief merit and recommendation of which
consisted in the fact that it relieved the nation of the incubus of a host
of very galling excise duties on such articles of common use as glass,
leather, bricks, and soap. These beneficial remissions of taxation could
not have been effected by him--for they entailed a heavy cost upon the
revenue, already inadequate to meet the annual expenditure--but for the
re-imposition of an Income Tax, a means of raising revenue which had been
long disused, to the extent of sevenpence in the pound on all incomes
above £150 of annual value. This, of course, did not affect the allowance
made to the Sovereign. Nevertheless, Her Majesty evinced her sympathy at
once with the prevailing distress and with the daring fiscal expedient of
the Premier, by coming forward unsolicited to offer to receive an
abatement of her income, based upon the precise scale of that imposed by
Parliament upon her subjects.
Up to the Queen's reign, the members of the House of Brunswick had never
been peripatetic in their tendencies. The first two Georges had made
frequent visits to their patrimonial German electorate, but they evinced
no desire to visit England beyond the immediate environs of London. George
III. never passed out of England; George IV. visited Ireland and Scotland
each on one occasion; but with these exceptions, hardly any British
highways were traversed by his wheels during his reign, whether as
Sovereign Regent or Regnant, except the great roads connecting his capital
with Windsor, Brighton, and Newmarket. William IV. was too old when he
came to the throne to make it at all probable that he would evince any
taste to visit any of the outlying portions of his dominions; nor did he
do so. Queen Victoria, as we have copiously seen in earlier chapters, was
from her very infancy habituated to moving about from place to place, and
all along she has proved herself as proud as Queen Elizabeth herself of
mingling with and showing herself to her people.
[Sidenote: FIRST VISIT TO SCOTLAND.]
For some time the Queen was understood to have contemplated a journey to
the land of those Stuart ancestors by virtue of whose Tudor blood they,
and the Brunswick line through them, and she through it, inherited the
British crown. In the autumn of this year all seemed propitious for the
journey, and it was undertaken accordingly by herself and her young
husband. Their first destination was the Scottish capital, and as the
railway system connecting the southern and northern extremities of the
island was yet far from complete, the journey was made by water from the
Thames to the Forth, the port of embarkation being Woolwich, and of
debarkation, Granton, a minor harbour in the immediate neighbourhood of
Edinburgh.
The expected visit was awaited and prepared for in the North with the
utmost eagerness of expectancy. Half Scotland seemed to have emptied
itself into the metropolis to do her honour. In their preparations,
burgher vied with noble, tartan-clad Highlanders with Lowlanders in their
more sombre blue bonnets and hodden grey. On the 29th of August, the Queen
left Windsor, and proceeded to Woolwich, where she embarked amid the
acclamations of her metropolitan and Kentish subjects at an early hour of
the same day. In a Royal yacht, towed by a steam ship of war, the voyage
was safely effected in the fine weather and on the placid wave of early
autumn. In due time the Royal squadron arrived off Dunbar, which, with the
Bass Rock and Tantallon Castle, form together a fine _coup-d'oeil_ of
romantic coast scenery and middle age antiquity, at the mouth of the Firth
of Forth. Here it was met by large steamers filled by welcomers from
Edinburgh and its neighbourhood, who greeted their illustrious visitors
with loud huzzahs, and the strains of that National Anthem, which, though
of English birth, was chaunted right lustily by Scottish lungs and lips.
It was observed that Her Majesty, who came on board and acknowledged the
vivas of her subjects, had paid the Scots the compliment of enveloping
herself in a Paisley shawl; and when, a day or two later, she made her
formal entry past the church sanctified by the preaching of John Knox, to
the Castle, in a narrow chamber of which her unfortunate ancestor Queen
Mary bore her son King James, she wore, with even more conspicuously
appropriate taste, a shawl of Stuart tartan.
[Sidenote: LANDING ON SCOTTISH SOIL.]
As she passed up the Firth, under cover of the gathering night, every peak
on either side of the estuary, from St. Abb's Head, which she had left
behind, away westwards to the Pentlands, the Lomonds, and the Ochils, was
surmounted by a blazing beacon--a splendid sight, and stimulative by
contrast to the imaginations of those who recollected to what different
uses beacon-fires on Scottish hills and Scottish Border Keeps had been put
in earlier days of the international relations of England and Scotland.
The fiery welcome was returned from the Royal yacht, by the letting off of
rockets, and the burning of blue lights.
At last the squadron came in sight in the roads before Leith, the anchor
being let down--"a welcome sound," wrote the Queen--at a quarter to one
o'clock on the morning of Thursday, September the 1st. Every one of the
heights on or under the domination of which Edinburgh stands, had been
crowded all the previous day with tens of thousands of spectators. All at
once two guns from the castle, and a signal flag hoisted from the summit
of Nelson's column, some 400 feet above the level of the sea, announced
the arrival. The Queen slept and rested herself after the fatigues of her
voyage on board the Royal yacht; and she took her good but inalert
subjects by surprise, by effecting her landing at an hour so early on the
succeeding morning, that many of them, wearied by their recent vigils, had
not yet left their couches, and even the corporate dignitaries were
subject to the mortification of not having the honour to receive and
welcome their Queen as her foot first touched Scottish soil. In their
absence, that pleasurable duty was discharged by Sir Robert Peel, and the
Duke of Buccleuch, whose guest she was about to be at his palace of
Dalkeith, and who had ridden immediately after her carriage, as
Captain-General of her body-guard of Scottish Archers, on the day on which
she was crowned queen at Westminster. Sir Robert Peel told the Queen that
the people were all in the highest glee and good humour, though a little
disappointed at the non-arrival of the squadron the day before, as had
been expected.
With the extraordinarily auspicious fatality which has made "Queen's
weather" so trite and proverbial an expression, the sun splendidly burst
forth at the moment of her landing, and continued to shine throughout her
progress through a portion of the New Town of Edinburgh; its bright
freestone streets and terraces sparkling in the clear, sunlit air--past
her ancient Palace of Holyrood, and so through fertile Lothian to the
mansion of the princely head of the old Border House of the Scotts. When
the customary ensign was hauled down from the top of the rugged Castle
Rock, and the Royal Standard was hoisted in its place, the streets at once
filled, and the loyal shouts of the crowds, who hastily assembled in no
small force, sufficiently atoned for the absence of those whom the
somewhat unexpected arrival balked for this one day of the delight of
expressing their devotion.
[Sidenote: FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF SCOTLAND.]
The impression which her first view of Edinburgh made upon the Queen was
very striking and most favourable. She thought it "beautiful, totally
unlike anything else she had seen." Even Prince Albert, a great traveller
while yet in his teens, and who had visited very many great and renowned
cities, also said it was unlike anything which he had witnessed. The
massive stone buildings, with not a solitary brick used in their
construction; the great dorsal fin of the High Street; the magnificent
situation of the Castle; the Calton Hill, guarded by mediæval battlements
and crowned by Choragic temples, with the noble back-ground of Arthur's
Seat overtopping the whole, together impressed the youthful tourists as
"forming altogether a splendid spectacle."
As the carriages drove through the city, the Earl of Wemyss, who marched
by the Queen's side in his green uniform of a Scottish Archer of the
Guard, pointed out to Her Majesty the varied objects of interest on the
line of route through the eastern portions of the city to the Duke of
Buccleuch's palace of Dalkeith. When they got into the open country, she
was further astonished to find that not only all the cottages, but even
the fences dividing field from field, were also built of stone. The
peasants by the wayside were equally objects of curiosity and interest, as
they had "quite a different character from England and the English." The
close caps--_Scottice_, "mutches"--of the old women, and the long, flowing
hair, frequently red, of the handsome girls and children, were equal
novelties to the royal "Southrons." The Prince was struck with the
resemblance of the country people to Germans. Other Scottish specialties
appeared at the breakfast-table at Dalkeith, in the form of oatmeal
porridge and "Finnan Haddies"--the first of which, at least, found
immediate favour with Her Majesty.
The grand ceremonial of entering the ancient city in state was reserved
for the Saturday after the arrival; the interval having been devoted by
the royal party to quiet and repose in the magnificent domain of
Buccleuch, and drives to objects of interest in its neighbourhood. The
line of the cavalcade, on this red-letter day, was up the steep ascent of
the Canongate, High Street, and Lawnmarket, from the Palace of Holyrood
(which the Queen rightly pronounced "a royal-looking old place") to the
Castle which the Black Douglas scaled, where George Buchanan's pedantic
Stuart pupil was born, and from the parapets of which various and shifting
prospects are to be descried, which may be equalled, but cannot be
surpassed, in any portion of Her Majesty's dominions.
[Sidenote: THE QUEEN IN EDINBURGH CASTLE.]
It was indeed historic ground along which the Queen passed this day. Every
one of the stupendous houses of eight, ten, or even more stories, which
formed a mighty avenue of stone on either side of the ancient causeway
along which the steeds which drew her carriage slowly and deliberately
proceeded, had some tale of long gone days to tell, many of them being
most intimately associated with the fortunes of her Stuart ancestors. On
her way she passed the site of that tower in which Darnley, her ancestor,
was blown into eternity. Ere she left her Palace of Holyrood and the
adjacent ruins of the abbey which was erected by that Scottish king who
built and endowed so many abbeys that his subjects piteously exclaimed
that he was a "saur saunt for the Croon," she may have seen the
blood-stains of Rizzio, and the somewhat mythical portraits of the Kings
of the Houses of Kenneth, Bruce, and the Stuarts. On one side of her was
the old mansion of the Regent Moray, on the other the spot where, for the
first and only time, the boy Francis Jeffrey set eyes upon Robert Burns.
Here was the ancient oaken hall where the Scottish Parliament sate, there
the office of that Scottish journal of which Daniel Defoe, the staunch and
loyal friend of William III., was the first editor. Here was the house in
which John Knox lived and died, there the church in which he preached with
such fervour for that Protestant faith, with the establishment of which in
Europe both lines of her ancestors were so intimately identified. And when
she arrived on the esplanade of the Castle itself, she could look across
the Forth on the one side to the minor mountain which casts its morning
shadow into Loch Leven, from her captivity on an islet of which Scottish
Catholic gentlemen so gallantly rescued her Stuart ancestress; while
immediately beneath her lay the Grassmarket--at once the Tower and the
Smithfield of Scotland--where Montrose and Argyll expiated respectively
their loyalty to the Stuart race, and to freedom of soul and speech.
As the cortège passed up the streets along which Prince Charlie had passed
when he held court at Holyrood just ninety-seven years before, as she
received at the site of the old Tolbooth the keys of the city from the
Lord Provost, bending the knee beside his fellow-burghers, clad in the old
costumes of the Trades, and close beside a guard of honour of Highlanders
headed by the present Duke of Argyll; or as she stood surveying from the
topmost battery of the citadel her fair ancestral domains of Lothian and
Fife, and the distant mountains which tower o'er Loch Lomond and the
Trossachs, some such proud and pathetic recollections as these must have
occupied and touched the heart of the youngest and the mightiest monarch
in Europe. Their closer acquaintance with Edinburgh increased the mingled
amazement and delight of the Queen and Prince. Prince Albert pronounced
the view of it from the margin of the Firth of Forth as "fairy-like,"
"what you would imagine as a thing to dream of, or to see in a picture."
He said he felt sure the Acropolis could not be finer, and the Queen at
once recognised the appropriateness of the idealised metamorphosis of
"Auld Reekie" (_Anglice_, "Old Smoky") into "the Modern Athens." The Leith
ticket-porters, mounted on flower-decked horses, with broad,
ribbon-decorated Kilmarnock bonnets, and the pretty Newhaven fishwives,
with their clear, peachy complexions and Danish costumes, were objects of
peculiar interest.
[Sidenote: THE QUEEN IN THE HIGHLANDS.]
Space fails us to enter into details of the further incidents of this, the
Queen's first visit to her Scottish dominion. Enough to say that she
received in the Highlands, where she visited in succession not a few of
her oldest nobles of Gaelic and Norman descent, receptions as rapturous as
that which she experienced in the Modern Athens. The welcome, if it could
not be more hearty, was at least attended with more picturesque
accessories in the romantic region where the dialect and the "garb of Old
Gael" still to a large extent prevail. At Dupplin Castle, at Scone Palace,
where her ancestors were crowned, at Blair Athole, at Taymouth, and at
Drummond Castle, she was entertained with equal splendour, and with the
true and special elements of "Highland Welcome." She may be almost said to
have passed through a continuous succession of triumphal arches. Every
chieftain brought out all his available clansmen, all in kilts, claymores,
and Glengarry bonnets, to act as guards of honour. Balls, in which the
national dances, performed by the best born cadets of the noble houses of
whom she was the guest, constituted the chief feature, alternated with
deer-stalking, for the especial behoof of the Prince; processions of boats
on the lake through which rolls the Tay, a river only less rapid than the
Spey; and visits to places of historic interest or romantic beauty.
The Queen was especially charmed with the beautiful situation of the
ancient city of Perth, and the enthusiastic reception which the multitudes
there assembled gave to her. Prince Albert, too, was delighted, and
likened the appearance of the place to Basle. At Scone Palace, which is
within two miles of Perth, a very natural object of peculiar interest was
the mound on which all the Scottish kings had been crowned. At Dunkeld the
Highlands were fairly entered; and here the Royal party were met and
escorted by a guard of Athole Highlanders, armed with halberts, and headed
by a piper. One of them danced the sword dance, with which the travellers
were greatly amused, and others of them figured in a reel.
The longest sojourn made in the Highlands was at Taymouth, the seat of the
Marquis of Breadalbane. The scenery here again revived recollections of
Switzerland in the memory of Prince Albert, who was particularly prone, in
this and subsequent visits to the North, to trace resemblances between its
scenery and localities which he had visited in the tours of his bachelor
days. The reception at Taymouth was magnificent, and quite captivated the
illustrious guests. The Queen wrote in her journal--
The _coup d'oeil_ was indescribable. There were a number of Lord
Breadalbane's Highlanders, all in the Campbell tartan, drawn up in
front of the house, with Lord Breadalbane himself in a Highland dress
at their head; a few of Sir Niel Menzies' men (in the Menzies red and
white tartan), a number of pipers playing, and a company of the 92nd
Highlanders, also in kilts. The firing of the guns, the cheering of
the great crowd, the picturesqueness of the dresses, the beauty of the
surrounding country, with its rich back-ground of wooded hills,
altogether formed one of the finest scenes imaginable. It seemed as if
a great chieftain in olden feudal times was receiving his Sovereign.
It was princely and romantic.
Wherever the Queen rambled during her stay by the shores of Loch Tay, she
was guarded by two Highlanders, and it recalled to her mind "olden times,
to see them with their swords drawn." Walking one day with the Duchess of
Norfolk, the Queen and her noble companion met "a fat, good-humoured
little woman." She cut some flowers for the ladies, and the Duchess handed
to her some money, saying, "From Her Majesty." The poor woman was
perfectly astounded, but, recovering her wits, came up to the Queen, and
said naïvely that "her people were delighted to see the Queen in
Scotland." Wherever the royal visitors were, or went, the inevitable
strains of the bagpipes were heard. They played before the Castle at
frequent intervals throughout the day, from breakfast till dinner-time,
and invariably when they went in or out of doors. When rowed in boats on
the lake, two pipers sat in the bows and played; and the Queen, who had
grown "quite fond" of the bagpipes, was reminded of the lines of Scott,
with whose poems she had, from an early age, possessed the most intimate
familiarity:--
"See the proud pipers in the bow,
And mark the gaudy streamers flow
From their loud chambers down, and sweep
The furrow'd bosom of the deep,
As, rushing through the lake amain,
They plied the ancient Highland strain."
[Sidenote: DEPARTURE FROM SCOTLAND.]
On the 13th of September the return journey from the Highlands by
Stirling, the ancient Castle of which was visited, to Dalkeith Palace, had
been completed. Two days later the Queen and Prince re-embarked at
Granton, _en route_ for Woolwich and Windsor.
Although a by no means excessive quantity of time--but a fortnight--was
consumed in the tour, some idea of the rapidity with which distances were
traversed, and the extent of ground covered, may be gathered from the fact
that no fewer than 656 post-horses were employed. The Queen touched the
hearts of the Highlanders--among whom Jacobitism remained, not as an
element of personal devotion to a fallen house, but not the less as a deep
chord of pathos and poetry--by commanding a Scottish vocalist, at a
concert given in her honour at Blair Athole, to sing two of the most
beloved of Jacobite songs--"Cam' ye by Athole," and "Wae's me for Prince
Charlie." When she once more embarked at Granton on her homeward route,
she left memories of pleasure and affection which far exceeded the
intensely ardent excitement which had preceded and greeted her landing. On
the last day which she spent in Scotland, the Queen wrote in her
journal--"This is our last day in Scotland; it is really a delightful
country, and I am very sorry to leave it." And the day after, watching its
vanishing coast--"As the fair shores of Scotland receded more and more
from our view, we felt quite sad that this very pleasant and interesting
tour was over; but we shall never forget it."
CHAPTER XVI.
WHAT ENGLAND OWES TO PRINCE ALBERT.
The Prince's Study of our Laws and Constitution--Two Misconceptions
Outlived--His Versatility--First Speech an Anti-Slavery One--His
Appreciation and Judicious Criticism of Art--Scientific Side of his
Mind--As an Agriculturist.
It will not be undesirable at this stage of our narrative to interpose a
summary compendium of some indications of the manner in which Prince
Albert, or the "Prince Consort," as he was designated by Royal Letters
Patent, after 1857, discharged the high, onerous, and important duties to
which his position called him. If the conduct and career of a husband be
an integral and large part of a woman's life, it is tenfold more so in the
case of a woman who is also a queen, and especially a queen-regnant in and
by her own right. The large and enlarging breadth of mind which the Prince
soon began to display; the abundant tenderness of heart, which found at
once indication and exercise in the admirable and diverse modes in which
he advanced all agencies of public utility and associated benevolence; the
excellent mode in which, equally as a father and a husband, he evinced the
warm glow of domestic virtue which animated his bosom, and the absolute
and much-wanted scientific and artistic lessons which he taught more than
any other man, during his life in England, to the somewhat uncouth people
of whom he became a part--all these, and other elements of character and
conduct, indirectly increased the growing esteem in which the Queen was
held, on her own merits, by her people; for we might have had to look
forward to a different national future, so far as a national future can be
moulded in the sense of either making or marring, had the "father of our
future kings" been other and lesser than what he was. Such a man as the
Prince Consort must necessarily have wielded a very large and weighty
influence upon the character of the royal lady whom he married. The
history of her life, therefore, even if it were traced within narrower
limits than those within whose compression our task must be discharged,
would be insufficiently delineated without the introduction of such
episodical but most relevant matter as that to which this chapter is
briefly dedicated.
Almost the first task which the Prince Consort undertook when he came
amongst us was to set himself to an assiduous study of our laws and
institutions. He secured the services of a most competent instructor in
themes so important to one who stood so near the throne, in the person of
the late Mr. William Selwyn, Q.C. Mr. Selwyn was a sound jurist, and under
his guidance the Prince read such works as Blackstone, De Lolme, Hallam,
Bentham, and Mill. He proved himself an apt student, for he had the
capacity for study eminently developed; and, besides, his position was one
of singular difficulty and delicacy. He stood so near to the throne,
amongst a people, too, traditionally jealous of aliens, and especially of
aliens in high places, that any utterance he might be called upon to make
would be considered as almost, if not quite, emanating from the throne
itself. Although a certain cabinet intrigue, and one rare expression of
his own--not so much unguarded in itself, as wanting in explicitness, and
capable of a certain misconstruction--did, on two several occasions,
provoke in certain quarters something approaching to national disfavour,
he soon outlived the misconception; and the universal sentiment of the
people came round to the conviction that the Prince was faithful and loyal
to the constitution to which he had sworn fidelity; nay more, that he had
fairly caught, apprehended, and absorbed into his being the very genius
and spirit of the English race.
[Sidenote: PRINCE ALBERT S FIRST SPEECH.]
The first speech the Prince made in England was at an anti-slavery
meeting; the last at the opening of an international statistical congress.
The former was delivered during the first summer of his married life. It
is so brief, and it gives, as it were, so thoroughly the key-note of his
character, that our readers will thank us for giving it entire:--
I have been induced to preside at the meeting of this society from a
conviction of its paramount importance to the great interests of
humanity and justice. I deeply regret that the benevolent and
persevering exertions of England to abolish that atrocious traffic in
human beings (at once the desolation of Africa and the blackest stain
upon civilised Europe) have not as yet led to any satisfactory
conclusion. But I sincerely trust that this great country will not
relax in its efforts until it has finally, and for ever, put an end to
a state of things so repugnant to the spirit of Christianity and the
best feelings of our nature. Let us, therefore, trust that Providence
will prosper our exertions in so holy a cause, and that (under the
auspices of our Queen and her Government) we may, at no distant
period, be rewarded by the accomplishment of the great and humane
object for the promotion of which we have this day met.
We have already remarked the wide range of Prince Albert's endeavours,
study, devotion, and consequent usefulness. He presided at dinners of the
Literary Fund, and of the Royal Academy; at the Trinity House most
frequently, and at many agricultural meetings. Two of the best and most
pregnant with good of his addresses, were delivered at the meetings of
associations designed respectively for the better housing of labourers,
and in behalf of the large and sorely tempted class of domestic servants.
Now he presided at the Bicentenary of the Corporation of the Sons of the
Clergy; again at the two hundredth anniversary of one of our most
illustrious regiments of Foot Guards. On art, as all were prepared to
expect, he delivered ripe words of wisdom at the Royal Academy in
Trafalgar Square, and in laying the foundation in the capital of his
wife's Stuart ancestors of a new National Gallery for her Scottish
subjects. Against the expectation, and to the loudly expressed surprise of
all, save those who knew him thoroughly, he made a most admirable survey
of the sciences and their uses, at one of the last meetings held ere his
death, of the British Association for the Advancement of Science. Of art
he was a judicious critic, as well as a munificent patron. It was at his
special wish and option that the _savant_ Lyon Playfair was made one of
his Equerries; and that a residence in Hampton Court Palace was put at the
disposal of Michael Faraday.
How much of mingled love for art and artists, and at the same time of
criticism most kindly and sagacious, is to be found in these brief
sentences, extracted from his great speech at the Royal Academy dinner:--
An unkind word of criticism passes like a cold blast over their tender
shoots, and shrivels them up, checking the flow of the sap, which was
rising to produce, perhaps, multitudes of flowers and fruits. But
still criticism is absolutely necessary to the development of art,
and the injudicious praise of an inferior work becomes an insult to
superior genius. In this respect, our times are peculiarly favourable
when compared with those when Madonnas were painted in the seclusion
of convents; for we have now on the one hand the eager competition of
a vast array of artists of every degree of talent and skill, and on
the other, as judge, a great public, for the greater part wholly
uneducated in art, and thus led by professional writers who often
strive to impress the public with a great idea of their own artistic
knowledge, by the merciless manner in which they treat works which
cost those who produced them the highest efforts of mind or feeling.
And again, as a companion and worthy picture--which is none the less, but
all the more, worthy of hanging along with that we have just presented,
that the great truth it teaches is presented with such lucid
simplicity--take these sentences explanatory of the scope and end of such
institutions as the British Association for the Advancement of Science,
delivered by him as its President, at the 1859 Congress at Aberdeen:--
[Sidenote: THE PRINCE'S EULOGY ON HUMBOLDT.]
If the activity of this Association ever found, or could find its
personification in one individual--its incarnation as it were--this
had been found in that distinguished and revered philosopher who has
been removed from amongst us in his ninetieth year, within the last
few months. Alexander Von Humboldt ever strove after dominion over
that universality of human knowledge which stands in need of
thoughtful government and direction to preserve its integrity. He
strove to tie up the fasces of scientific knowledge, to give them
strength in unity. He treated all scientific men as members of one
family, enthusiastically directing, fostering, and encouraging
inquiry, where he saw either the want of or the willingness for it.
His protection of the young and ardent student led many to success in
their pursuits. His personal influence with the courts and governments
of most countries in Europe, enabled him to plead the cause of science
in a manner which made it more difficult to refuse than to grant what
he requested. All lovers of Science deeply mourn for the loss of such
a man. Gentlemen, it is a singular coincidence, that this very day on
which we are here assembled, and are thus giving expression to our
admiration of him, should be the anniversary of his birth.
The Queen, who was staying at Balmoral, was very anxious about the manner
in which her husband should pass the very severe ordeal of delivering an
address to the assembled men of science. She recorded her high
gratification at learning by telegram that "Albert's reception was
admirable, and that all was going off as well as possible. Thank God!" She
invited the _savans_, to a fête at her Highland home; they accepted the
invitation in great numbers; and "the philosophers," of whom Her Majesty
was not a little, and rather comically, afraid, were not only entertained
with creature comforts, but the somewhat novel combination was presented
of Owen, Brewster, Sabine, and Murchison, with their brethren of lesser
renown, standing as spectators of contests of strength between athletes of
the Grant, Farquharson, Duff, and other clans. Some of the more
distinguished guests remained over night, and at dinner they rejoiced the
Queen's heart by "speaking in very high terms of my beloved Albert's
speech, the good it had done, and the general satisfaction it had caused."
[Sidenote: THE PRINCE AS AN AGRICULTURIST.]
Probably the capacity of all others in which the Prince became most
generally familiar to the nation, was that of a practical, improving,
scientific agriculturist; and we use this word in its twofold sense, as
embracing the growing of crops and the rearing of live stock. Almost from
the outset of his career amongst us he commenced a series of scientific
agricultural experiments on the farms in Windsor Park. He renovated the
agriculture of the Park, as much as he confessedly did its landscape
gardening. He became a constant and most successful exhibitor of live
domestic edible animals at the great agricultural shows; his example in
this field having been followed since his death, to the great
gratification of the agricultural interest, both by his widow and his
eldest son; and, especially in the case of Her Majesty, with marked
success. As a high and eminent authority on the subject has admirably put
it--
His was no merely idle, passing patronage or casual aid, but it was
rather a pursuit he delighted in, and one he followed out with equal
energy and advantage. The most practical man could not go that
pleasant round from the Flemish farm to the Norfolk, and so back again
by the Home and the Dairy, without learning something wherever he
went.
We must deny ourselves the pleasure of aught but passing reference to the
admirable manner in which he discharged his academic duties as Chancellor
of the University of Cambridge, which post he held from 1845 till his
death, and about which we say enough when we remind or inform the reader
that it was such men as Professor Sedgwick, the Vice-chancellor, who spoke
of the exercise of his duties in this capacity in terms of the highest
honour and estimation. Similar were his services to such noble
institutions as Eton and Wellington Colleges, in both of which he offered
prizes expressly calculated to encourage the pursuit of those studies
which had been, or were most likely to be, ignored in their several cases.
Horticulture, art exhibitions, the National Portrait Gallery, the Society
of Arts, societies for improving the general condition and the housing of
the labouring classes, mechanics' institutions--each of these constitutes
a theme most pregnant and suggestive in connection with the Prince's name
and memory. But we can do no more than recite and dismiss the bald
catalogue of topics. Reserving for the appropriate chronological occasion
some brief remarks upon the character of the Prince as a private man, as
contrasted with his aspects of character as a citizen and public
benefactor, to which we have at present confined ourselves, we feel that
we cannot better conclude than by condensing his opinions delivered in an
address to the annual meeting of the Servants' Provident Benevolent
Society, in 1849, in which the whole plan and doctrine by which he
believed all really useful associated benevolence ought to be regulated
was summed up. His view was that no such organisation was founded upon a
right principle which did not require every man, by personal exertion, and
by his own choice, to work out his own happiness. Benevolence he held to
be not really such unless it stimulated providence, self-denial, and
perseverance. He used special words of warning against those so frequent
lotteries of uncertain and precarious advantages--"really a species of
gambling"--expensive convivial meetings, balloting for prizes, and
electioneering contests on a small scale. "Let them always bear in mind,"
he proceeded to say, "that their savings are capital, that capital will
only return a certain interest, and that any advantage offered beyond that
interest has to be purchased at a commensurate risk of the capital
itself."
Such is a view, but all too summary and inadequate, of some of the
obligations which the English, as his fellow-citizens, owed to that Prince
whose life was so intertwined with and influential on that of their
Sovereign.
CHAPTER XVII.
FOREIGN TRAVEL AND HOME VISITS.
Visit to King Louis Philippe at Eu--A Loyal Corporation--Splendid
Reception of the Queen in France--Anecdote of the Queen's Regard for
Prince Albert--Visit of the Czar Nicholas--Home Life in
Scotland--Visit to Germany--Illuminations of the Rhine--A Rural Fête
at Coburg.
In August, 1843, the Queen and Prince Albert made a yachting excursion
round portions of the south coast and the Isle of Wight. Thence they
steamed over to Treport, on the French coast, the nearest port to the
Chateau d'Eu, a rural residence of Louis Philippe. On the arrival of the
Queen and Prince from Windsor at Southampton, they were met at the end of
the pier by the Duke of Wellington and other noble and official
personages. It rained heavily, and as there was not sufficient covering
for the stage intended to run on to the yacht _Victoria and Albert_, the
members of the Corporation, like so many Raleighs, stripped off their red
gowns in a moment, and the pathway was covered for Her Majesty's use, so
that Queen Victoria, like Queen Elizabeth, walked dry-footed to her
vessel. The undergraduates at Cambridge acted precisely similarly on the
occasion of a visit in wet weather by the Queen and Prince to that
university in this year.
[Sidenote: VISIT TO FRANCE.]
The subsequent visit to France was wholly unexpected in England; and it
was even said, and with some show of truth, that the Ministers were
unaware of the intention. Of course we cannot speak with any certainty,
but it seems but too likely that Louis Philippe intrigued to secure the
aid, or at least the condonation, of the Queen of England in those astute
enterprises which his busy brain was even now concocting, with which the
phrases "Pritchard and Tahiti," and the "Spanish Marriages" will ever
remain associated, and which ultimately, and retributively, cost him his
throne. Mr. Raikes, who, be it remembered, was the intimate and bosom
friend of the Duke of Wellington, then a Minister of England, has at this
date the following entry in his Journal, which was published in 1857, and
is an acknowledged, and if not absolutely an indisputable, yet a most
weighty authority:--
_Tuesday, 19th._--Much conversation after dinner about the Queen's
visit to Eu. I said, that the day before I left Paris, Kisseleff, the
Russian Minister, scouted the idea of this visit, and betted that it
would never take place. Lord Canning remarked, as a singular
coincidence, that Brunow, the Russian Minister in London, asserted
positively, on the very morning that the Queen embarked at
Southampton, that she had no intention of going to Eu. They both
spoke, I suppose, as they wished.
This, it may be said, is mere club gossip. Not so what we are about to
quote, and which was written under the Duke of Wellington's roof:--
_Saturday, 23rd._--I went down to Walmer Castle, and found the Duke
walking with Mr. Arbuthnot on the ramparts, or, as it is called, the
platform, which overlooks the sea.... After the company had departed
at ten o'clock, I sat up with the Duke and Arbuthnot till twelve
o'clock, talking on various topics.... I see that the Government was
evidently opposed to the Queen's visit to Eu. It was a wily intrigue,
managed by Louis Philippe, through the intervention of his daughter,
the Queen of the Belgians, during her frequent visits to Windsor with
King Leopold, and was hailed by him with extreme joy, as the first
admission of the King of the Barricades within the pale of legitimate
sovereigns. The Duke said, "I was never let into the secret, nor did I
believe the report then in circulation, till at last they sent to
consult my opinion as to forming a regency during the Queen's absence.
I immediately referred to precedents as the only proper guide. I told
them that George I., George II. (George III. never went abroad), and
George IV. had all been obliged to appoint councils of regency; that
Henry VIII., when he met Francis I. at Ardres, was then master of
Calais, as also when he met Charles V. at Gravelines; so that, in
these instances, Calais being a part of his dominions, he hardly did
more than pass his frontier--not much more than going from one county
to the next. Upon this I decided that the Queen could not quit this
country without an Act of Regency. But she consulted the crown
lawyers, who decided that it was not necessary, as courtiers would
do." I myself (resumes Raikes) did not believe in her going till two
days before she went. Peel persisted afterwards that he had told me of
it; but I knew I never heard it, and it was not a thing to have
escaped me if I had.
As for the reception at the Château d'Eu itself, it was of the most
splendid character. One state ceremonial, however, is so very like
another, that after those, the descriptions of which we have already
furnished, a recital of the gay doings at Eu would hardly be palatable.
The purport of the whole may be summed up very briefly. The French monarch
endeavoured to allure the Queen into compliance with his wishes, by every
seduction which nature and art, and the most refined and gallant courtesy,
could supply. Everything that wealth, luxury, and taste could furnish was
to be found amid scenes of more than royal magnificence, o'ershadowed by
elms that dated back to the times of Henri Quatre.
But there was business to be done, and the Queen was fortunate in having
with her such trusty counsellors as Lords Aberdeen and Liverpool. A
compact about the Spanish marriages was then and there made between France
and England; a compact for the terms of which we are dependent, not alone
upon English state papers, but upon the unimpeachable testimony of MM.
Guizot and Regnault. As the starting-point of the one court was that the
Queen of Spain should marry a Prince of the House of Coburg, and of the
other that she should marry a Prince of the reigning French house, of
course no settlement could be come to except by an unequivocal compromise.
Thus did Lord Aberdeen and M. Guizot arrange it:--The King of France
renounced all pretensions, on the part of any of his sons, to the hand of
the Queen of Spain. It was stipulated that the Queen should choose her
husband from the princely descendants of Philip V.; this stipulation
excluding the dreaded competition of a Coburg. As to the projected
marriage of the Duc de Montpensier, the son of Louis Philippe, with the
Infanta Donna Maria, sister of the Queen of Spain, Louis Philippe agreed
that it should not take place "till the Queen was married and had had
children." On these conditions, the Queen of England and her counsellors
waived all objections to the marriage of the Duc de Montpensier. Louis
Philippe kept his word by having his son married to the Infanta on the
very same day, and at the same altar, as that on which her elder sister
the Queen was married.
In the summer of this year, the Princess Augusta of Cambridge, the Queen's
first cousin, was married to the Grand Duke of Mecklenburg-Strelitz. The
following extract from the diary of Mr. Raikes will be admitted to be far
from the least amusing and characteristic anecdote of the Queen which we
present in these pages:--
_Tuesday, 26th September._--This morning at breakfast, the Duke said
to me, "Did you hear what happened at the wedding?" [meaning that of
the Princess Augusta of Cambridge]. Replying in the negative, he
continued, "When we proceeded to the signatures, the King of Hanover
was very anxious to sign before Prince Albert, and when the Queen
approached the table, he placed himself by her side, watching his
opportunity. She knew very well what he was about, and just as the
Archbishop was giving her the pen, she suddenly dodged around the
table, placed herself next to the Prince, then quickly took the pen
from the Archbishop, signed and gave it to Prince Albert, who also
signed next, before it could be prevented. The Queen was also very
anxious to give the precedence at Court to King Leopold before the
King of Hanover, and she consulted me about it, and how it should be
arranged. I told Her Majesty that I supposed it should be settled as
we did at the congress of Vienna. "How was that," said she, "by first
arrival?" "No ma'am," said I, "alphabetically, and then, you know, B
comes before H." This pleased her very much, and it was done.
[Sidenote: THE CZAR NICHOLAS.]
In June, 1844, the Queen was visited by her handsome and colossal
godfather, the Czar Nicholas of All the Russias. The Queen received him
with great magnificence, and there was a splendid series of entertainments
at Windsor. The Czar made himself immensely popular with the female sex,
by his magnificent gifts of jewels to the ladies of the Court; with the
sterner sex, by the gift of a cup of uncommon splendour, to be annually
run for at Ascot. "Every one who approached him," says Sir Archibald
Alison, "was struck by the manly dignity of his figure, his noble and
serene countenance, and the polished courtesy of his manner, which threw a
lustre even over the stately halls of Windsor."
In September of the same year the Queen renewed her acquaintance with
Scotland and the Scots; this time again enjoying the ducal hospitality of
Blair Athole. This visit was entirely dissociated from all State
paraphernalia. The Queen was up before the sun. The mists were hardly
cleared away ere she and the Prince were to be seen walking in the
grounds. They were generally accompanied by the Princess Royal, mounted on
a Shetland pony. The Queen's piper played under her bed-room window at
dawn, and every morning a bunch of heather, with some icy-cold water from
the celebrated spring in Glen Tilt, was laid on her dressing-table. One
morning a lady, plainly dressed, left the Castle; who, though observed by
the Highland guard on duty, was allowed to pass unnoticed, until after she
had proceeded a considerable distance. But somebody having discovered that
it was the Queen, a party of Highlanders turned out as a royal body-guard.
She, however, signified her wish to dispense with their services, and they
all returned to their stations. The Queen, meanwhile, moved onward through
the Castle grounds alone, until she reached the lodge, the temporary
residence of Lord and Lady Glenlyon, where, upon calling, with the
intention, it was understood, of making some arrangements as to a
preconcerted excursion to the Falls of Bruar, she was informed that his
lordship had not yet arisen. The surprise of the servant may be conceived
when Her Majesty announced who was to be intimated as having called upon
his lordship. On her return, having taken a different route, and finding
herself bewildered by the various roads which intersect the grounds in
every direction, she asked some reapers to direct her to the Castle by the
nearest way. They, not being aware to whom they spoke, immediately did so,
by directing her to go through one of the parks, and across a paling which
lay before her, and which she at once passed, and reached the Castle, a
good deal amused, doubtless, with her morning's excursion. In 1847 the
Queen visited, for the first time, the Western Isles and Hebrides. In 1848
she rented Balmoral, which she shortly afterwards purchased, and from the
date of its acquisition it has been her place of regular resort for at
least one period of every year.
On the 9th of August, 1845, the Queen and Prince Albert embarked at
Woolwich to visit the land of her maternity and his natal spot. In the
Belgian and Prussian territories, and in the Duchy of Coburg itself, they
were rapturously welcomed. At Bonn, they were serenaded by a monster
orchestra, consisting of no fewer than sixty military bands. At the same
city they assisted at the inauguration of the statue of Beethoven. The
same evening they witnessed at Cologne an illumination and pyrotechnic
display which turned the Rhine into a _feu-de-joie_. As darkness closed
in, the dim and fetid city began to put forth buds of light; lines of
twinkling brightness darted, like liquid gold and silver, from pile to
pile, then along the famous bridge of boats, across the river, up the
masts of the shipping, and all abroad on the opposite bank. Rockets now
shot from all parts of the horizon. The royal party embarked in a steamer
at St. Tremond, and glided down the river; as they passed, the banks
blazed with fireworks and musketry. At their approach they glared with
redoubled light; and, being suspended, let the vessel pass to Cologne,
whose cathedral burst forth a building of light, every detail of the
architecture being made out in delicately coloured lamps--pinkish, with an
underglow of orange. A few days afterwards the Queen steamed up the Rhine.
At Stoltzenfelz there was another magnificent illumination and display of
fireworks. The whole river, both its banks, its crags, ravines, and ruins,
were simultaneously lighted up; showers of rockets and other fireworks
besprinkled the firmament, while repeated salvoes of artillery called the
grandeur of resonant sound to the aid of visible beauty.
[Sidenote: VISIT TO COBURG.]
At Coburg the Queen, as might be supposed, was still more cordially
welcomed than at any of her previous stopping places. She and the Prince
stopped at the Castle of Rosenau, and they occupied the room in which he
had been born. A magnificent stag-hunt was got up for their entertainment;
but what pleased the Queen most was being present at a festival entitled
"The Feast of Gregorius." This was a species of carnival, in which the
burghers and rustics, their wives and children, disguised in masks,
indulged in innocent and exuberant gaiety. The Queen and her relatives
freely mixed with the revellers. She talked to the children, to their
great astonishment, "in their own language." Tired of dancing and
processions, and freed from all awe by the ease of their illustrious
visitors, the children took to romps, "thread-my-needle," and other
pastimes, and finally were well pelted by the royal circle with bon-bons,
flowers, and cakes.
CHAPTER XVIII.
THE QUEEN IN IRELAND.
First Visit to Ireland--Rapturous Reception at Cork--Queenstown so
Denominated--Enthusiasm at Dublin--Its Graceful Recognition by the
Queen--Visit to the Dublin Exhibition--Encouragement of Native
Industry--Visit to the Lakes of Killarney--The Whirligig of Time.
For twelve years after her accession to the throne, the Queen was a
personal stranger to the shores of Erin. Amongst the numerous fruits of
the tranquillity restored to Ireland, after the disturbances and sedition
which had culminated in the "Young Ireland" rising of 1848, was a visit
paid by the Queen to her subjects on the west of St. George's Channel in
the autumn of 1849. Immediately after the prorogation of Parliament, the
Queen and Prince Albert proceeded to Cowes, where a Royal squadron was
ready to receive them. Under its escort, and being accompanied by their
two eldest children, they steered for Cork. The Queen selected as the
first spot of Irish ground on which to land, the port which, up to the
date of her disembarkation, had been known as the Cove of Cork. She gave a
command that, in commemoration of the circumstance, the Cove should
thenceforth be designated Queenstown. Having re-embarked, the Royal party
steamed up the beautiful bay to the city of Cork itself, where a
magnificent reception awaited them. The squadron proceeded at a slow
rate. In spite of its arrival at a much earlier date than had been
anticipated, the news spread like wildfire, and the country people
assembled in prodigious numbers on the shores of the Cove, which were
crowded with multitudes of excited Celts, whose wild shouts, mingled with
the firing of cannon and small arms, and the ringing of bells, made the
whole scene animated beyond description. From Cork, the Queen proceeded to
Dublin. There her reception was described by an eye-witness as "a sight
never to be forgotten."
[Sidenote: FIRST VISIT TO IRELAND.]
The Queen, turning from side to side, bowed low repeatedly. Prince Albert
shared in and acknowledged the plaudits of the people; while the Royal
children were objects of universal attention and admiration. Her Majesty
seemed to feel deeply the warmth of her reception. She paused at the end
of the platform for a moment, and again making her acknowledgments, was
hailed with a tremendous cheer as she entered the terminus of the short
railway line which connects Kingston with Dublin. On her departure, a few
days later, an incident still more gratifying to the Irish people
occurred. As the Royal yacht approached the extremity of the pier near the
lighthouse, where the people were most thickly congregated, and who were
cheering enthusiastically, the Queen suddenly left the two
Ladies-in-waiting with whom she was conversing, ran with agility along the
deck, and climbed the paddle-box to join Prince Albert, who did not notice
her till she was nearly at his side. Reaching out to him, and taking his
arm, she waved her hand to the people on the piers. She appeared to give
some order to the captain: the paddles immediately ceased to move, and
the vessel merely floated on. The Royal Standard was lowered in courtesy
to the thousands cheering on shore, and this stately obeisance was
repeated five times.
This gracious and well-timed visit to Ireland was a very significant proof
of the Royal confidence in the unshaken allegiance of the bulk of the
Irish people; and it likewise showed a just appreciation of the prudent
energy and humane moderation with which her Ministers had so fortunately
composed the recent unhappy tumults. Nearly thirty years had elapsed since
a British sovereign had appeared in Ireland; and between the visit of
George IV. and that of Queen Victoria, there was in common only the
circumstance that both were royal visits. George, as King of Ireland, in
1821, was not the king of a free nation; the victory of civil and
religious liberty had yet to be achieved for and by the Irish; a minority
engrossed the national Government and monopolised its emoluments of every
degree; the very existence of the people as a people had not been
recognised, and the King himself was peculiarly and bitterly identified
with the faction which held the race and their creed in thraldom. Thus, in
1821, the Crown of England possessed for Ireland little lustre or utility,
nor did it evoke any well-grounded loyalty and devotion from its people.
Queen Victoria and her visit, on the contrary, represented those popular
principles and sympathies which are the brightest jewels of the British
Crown, and are now set firmly in it for ever. Her visit, at once august
and affectionate, was a visit to a nation which was not only loyal but
free. "And joy came well in such, a needful time." The joy was exuberant
and universal. As the loyalty was rendered to a young Queen, it partook of
the romantic and strictly national nature of gallantry. To witness that
joy must have been the fittest punishment for the disaffected.
"We do not remember," says an authority not given to rhapsody or
exaggeration, "in the chronicles of royal progresses, to have met with any
description of a scene more splendid, more imposing, more joyous, or more
memorable, than the entry of the Queen into the Irish capital." The houses
were absolutely roofed and walled with spectators. They were piled throng
above throng, till their occupants clustered like bees about the vanes and
chimney tops. The noble streets of Dublin seemed to have been removed, and
built anew of Her Majesty's lieges. The squares resembled the interiors of
crowded amphitheatres. Facades of public buildings were formed for the day
of radiant human faces. Invention exhausted itself in preparing the
language of greeting, and the symbols of welcome. For miles the chariot of
the gay and gratified Sovereign passed under parti-coloured (not
_party_-coloured) streamers, waving banners, festal garlands, and
triumphal arches. The latter seemed constructed of nothing else than solid
flowers, as if the hands of Flora herself had reared them. At every
appropriate point jocund music sent forth strains of congratulation; but
banners, flowers, arches, and music were all excelled by the jubilant
shouts which tore the empyrean, loud, clear, and resonant, not only above
drum and trumpet, but above even the saluting thunders of the fleet.
[Sidenote: VISIT TO AN IRISH NATIONAL SCHOOL.]
Perhaps, apart from the mere loyal enthusiasm of the occasion, the most
important and significant incident of the visit was the following. It did
not fail to be remarked that the first institution which Her Majesty
visited in the capital was the central establishment of the Irish National
Schools--the first-fruits of Irish liberty, and the noblest possession of
the Irish people. The Queen knew that in these excellent schools the youth
of all persuasions were trained together, not in the love and pursuit of
knowledge alone, but in the habit of tolerance and the spirit of charity.
The Queen, by this visit, passed her personal approval and sanction upon a
system which is equally the antithesis of sectarian discord and the
promoter of religious independence. Here, also, she discovered (or already
knew, as was much more likely) that there was imparted the most useful,
solid, and practical instruction, one of a character most precisely
adapted to the wants, pursuits, interests, and occupations of the classes
in whose behalf it was devised. In her survey and inspection of the Normal
Schools, the Queen was attended by the Protestant and the Romanist
Archbishops, and the representatives of other Christian denominations,
friendly to the great scheme, stood beside and around her. That quite as
much importance and significance as we have accorded to it was assigned to
this visit of the Queen to the Normal National Schools, sufficiently
appears from these closing sentences of the Report of the Irish Education
Commissioners for 1849:--
We cannot conclude our Report for 1849 without alluding with pride and
gratitude to the visit with which our Model Schools were honoured on
the 7th of August, by Her Majesty Queen Victoria, and by her Royal
Consort, Prince Albert, accompanied by your Excellency. We are
convinced that this visit, so promptly and cordially made, has left an
indelible impression upon the hearts of the poor of Ireland, for whose
benefit our system has been established; and that they will ever
regard the compliment as the most appropriate and decisive that could
have been paid by Her Majesty to themselves. All reflecting men,
whether friends or opponents of our institution, have not failed to
see the importance of the step. By the country at large it has been
hailed as an eminent proof of Her Majesty's wisdom and goodness, and
as peculiarly worthy of the daughter of that illustrious Prince who
was the ardent advocate of the education of the poor, when denounced
by many as a dangerous novelty; and of their united education on just
and comprehensive principles, when most men regarded it as
impracticable.
[Sidenote: VISIT TO THE LAKES OF KILLARNEY.]
Four years later, when the first International Exhibition was held at
Dublin, the Queen renewed her acquaintance with her Irish subjects. Making
a somewhat lengthened stay at the vice-regal residence, she charmed the
people by the freedom with which she mingled amongst them, and by the
special attention and the bounteous patronage which she bestowed upon the
little-developed but beautiful specimens of their indigenous textile
industries in the Exhibition building. A third and a much more prolonged
visit was made in the autumn of 1861, the Queen having honoured Lord
Castlerosse and Mr. Herbert of Muckross, two gentlemen whose seats and
demesnes are situate on the shores of the beauteous Lakes of Killarney, by
accepting their hospitable invitations. Over the lakes, their islets, and
their surrounding mountains and mountain passes, the Queen roved as freely
and unrestrainedly as was her wont in the retreats in which she had year
after year sojourned, after the turmoil of the London season, in the
Scottish Highlands. It was observed with pleasure that, amongst other
indications of change which the whirligig of time had brought round, Mr.
James O'Connell, the brother of the "Liberator," dined more than once with
Her Majesty at the tables of her noble and gentle hosts; and the hounds
that forced a stag to take to the Lake--one of the immemorial sports
associated with Killarney--formed a portion of the pack which belonged to
his two sons.
CHAPTER XIX.
THE WORLD'S CONGRESS OF INDUSTRY.
Prince Albert the Inaugurator of International Exhibitions--Proposes,
Unsuccessfully, his Scheme to the Government--To the Society of Arts,
Successfully--First Steps towards Realisation--Objections to be
Met--Perseverance of the Prince--The Royal Commission--The Prince's
Speech at York--The Opening Ceremony--The Royal Procession.
As early as 1848 Prince Albert submitted to the Government a proposal to
establish an exhibition of works of industry in this country; but the
members of the Government could not be induced to afford to it any of that
encouragement which it was sought to obtain. Despairing of acquiring
assistance in this quarter, but hopeful, courageous, and unbaffled, the
Prince, who was President of the Society of Arts, in the following year
betook himself to that more likely and congenial quarter. Not content,
however, with following in the wake of previous Expositions which had been
held in Paris and elsewhere, he suggested the happy idea of so extending
its range as to include within it the works of industry and the art
treasures of all lands. He convened on his own responsibility a meeting at
Buckingham Palace, on the 30th of June, 1849, where he proposed that the
Exhibition should be divided into four sections: the first being raw
materials and produce illustrative of the natural productions in which
human industry is employed; the second, machinery for agricultural,
manufacturing, engineering, and other purposes, and mechanical inventions
illustrative of the agents which human ingenuity brings to bear upon the
products of nature; the third, manufactures illustrative of the results
produced by the operation of human industry upon natural produce; the
fourth, sculpture, models, and the plastic arts generally, illustrative of
the skill displayed in such applications of human industry.
When this proposal of a display so novel was first made, there existed no
public enthusiasm to welcome the daring scheme, and all were in utter
ignorance of those mechanical means of accomplishing it which to the
present generation are so simple and obvious. It was met by countless
cavils and objections without end. But the Prince had insight enough to
discriminate between the real body of public opinion, lethargic and slow
to move, yet ductile and malleable, and the artificial clamour of the
marplots. Fortunately for the success of the great enterprise, the Prince
possessed within himself the happiest combination of the highest station
with those indomitable qualities of hopeful perseverance which were
necessary to overcome the innumerable impediments which threatened more
than once to mar the success of the great work. He succeeded in getting
associated with him an active body of Commissioners, who, encouraged by
the untiring industry which their illustrious President displayed,
persevered in their work; and one by one the practical difficulties
disappeared before the clear and vigorous intellect which the Prince
brought to bear upon their discussions.
[Sidenote: THE GREAT EXHIBITION.]
But he remained, indeed, the _facile princeps_ in maturing, as he had been
in designing, the scheme. This is no mere language of eulogy, for the
records of the Commissioners of the Exhibition have placed in print
undoubted proofs that equally the completion with the progress, and the
progress quite as much as the origin, of the Exhibition of 1851, were
mainly due to the large conception and wise foresight of the Prince
Consort. The public at the time knew but little, and many of its
constituent atoms know but little to this day, of the amount of anxious
thought and labour which he devoted to the success of the great
undertaking that made the year 1851 memorable as a new starting-point in
the industrial and social history of the world. One important point, apart
altogether from his personal merits, must never be lost sight of. His own
high name and his close relation to the Sovereign, added a lustre to the
Royal Commission which would otherwise have been totally lacking, and gave
ground for that confidence to foreign powers which they displayed so
signally and with so little stint.
[Sidenote: PRINCE ALBERT AT YORK.]
At a banquet held at York about six months before the Exhibition opened,
the Prince in a long address, in which he replied to the toast of his
health, indicated, though most modestly and unconsciously, at once the
arduous nature of his preliminary labours and the zeal with which he
pursued them. In the name of the Commissioners, who had been invited to
the banquet _en masse_, he thanked his hosts for the proof thereby made
plain of their earnest and combined zeal in the cause of the approaching
Exhibition. He rejoiced that it was not a mere impulse of momentary
enthusiasm which they evinced, but a spirit of steady perseverance and
sustained effort, and he assured his auditors that the spirit of active
preparation and hopeful faith was abroad in the country. Of this, he said,
he was confident, on the ground of information which reached him from all
quarters. And he added, and the event proved him to be right, his own
personal conviction that the works in preparation would be such as to
dispel any apprehension about the position which British industry would
maintain. Of his brother Commissioners he spoke with loyal and chivalrous
fervour. He thanked, in their name, the public for their uninterrupted
confidence in those who were responsible for the management of the scheme;
and stated that there had been no difference of opinion between the
central and the local committees, which had not, upon personal
consultation and open discussion vanished, and given way to agreement and
identity of purpose. So much for hope: the test of fruition had yet to
come.
At length the great event to which the whole civilised world had been
looking forward for eighteen months with mingled interest and
curiosity--the opening of the great congress of industry and art--was
accomplished with a pomp and solemnity of ceremonial suitable to the
dignity of the occasion, and the important social interests which it
involved. Spite of all predictions to the contrary--spite of the
faint-hearted forebodings which the wild confusion of the interior of the
building in the last days of April excused, if it did not justify--the
building was ready and furnished with the world's wares at the appointed
time. At two o'clock on the last day of April the building was cleared by
police and guardsmen of all exhibitors and their assistants, and the
preparations for the opening day, already partially made, were pursued
with the utmost zeal and vigour.
Never dawned a brighter morning than that of the May Day which succeeded.
The sky was clear and blue, the air as cool, crisp, and genial as a poet
or artist could wish, and the sun came forth in undimmed splendour.
London, reinforced by a multitude of visitors, was early astir and afoot.
At six the Park gates were opened, and through them at once commenced to
pour carriages from all parts of the metropolis and its neighbourhood,
filled with gaily attired courtiers, cits, and provincials. The line of
route was kept by mounted soldiers and police; but their task was rendered
almost perfunctory, so fully did all appear animated with the one desire
to signalise this truly popular ceremonial with generous and kindly
feeling, and a respect for the rights and duties of one another. The only
houses from which a sight could be got of the royal procession were those
at Grosvenor Gate and at Hyde Park Corner. These were crowded with
well-dressed persons, of whom ladies formed the majority, up to the very
roofs. The roofs of Apsley House and the park-keeper's lodge were
similarly tenanted. The windows of Buckingham Palace, which had recently
been new fronted, were filled with eager spectators, chiefly members of
the Household, their relatives and friends. The centre balcony was
occupied by the younger princes and princesses, attended by several
ladies.
Precisely at eleven the Life Guards commenced to widen the path for the
procession. At half-past eleven, the band of the regiment playing "God
save the Queen," the royal cortège set forth, amid the cheers of the vast
assembled multitude. The procession was of anything but an ostentatious
character. The eight carriages of which it was composed were drawn by but
two horses each. There were no Gentlemen-Ushers, Grooms, or Yeomen of the
Guard. Trumpeters there were, but their trumpets were silent. At a quarter
to twelve the procession reached the northern entrance of the Palace, and
the Queen alighted amid the strains of the National Anthem, a salvo of
artillery, and the lusty cheers of enormous multitudes on both sides of
the Serpentine.
[Sidenote: OPENING OF THE EXHIBITION.]
Meanwhile, from nine o'clock, the appointed hour of opening, the building
had been rapidly filling, all the visitors being remarkably well dressed,
and a large majority of them ladies. "The first _coup d'oeil_ of the
building, on entering the nave, was grand and gorgeous in the extreme; the
vast dimensions of the structure, the breadth of light, partially subdued
and agreeably mellowed in the nave by the calico coverings placed over the
roof, whilst the arched transept soared boldly into the clear arch of
heaven, courting, admitting, and distributing the full effulgence of the
noon-day sun; the bright and striking colours and forms of the several
articles in rich manufactured goods, works in sculpture, and other objects
displayed by the exhibitors, dissimilar and almost incongruous in their
variety, were blent into an harmonious picture of immense grandeur by the
attendant circumstances of space and light to which we have just alluded;
and the busy hum and eager and excited movements of the assembled
thousands infused the breath of life into a picture, which, at the period
of the crowning incident of the day, became truly sublime."
By eleven o'clock, after which hour none of the general public could be
admitted, the Honourable Corps of Gentlemen-at-Arms, in their gay
uniforms, had taken up their places in the rear of the dais set for the
Queen. This dais was covered with a splendid carpet, which had been
specially worked for the occasion by 150 ladies, and on this was placed a
magnificent chair of state, covered with a cloth of crimson and gold. High
over head was suspended an octagon canopy, trimmed with blue satin, and
draperies of blue and white. The trumpeters and heralds were in readiness
to proclaim the arrival of the Queen, and Sir George Smart stood, baton in
hand, perched up in a small rostrum, "ready to beat time to 'God save the
Queen' for the five hundredth time in his life." The Commissioners of the
Exhibition and the foreign ambassadors stood in the entrance hall,
prepared to pay their respects to Her Majesty on her arrival. The Queen
entered, leaning on her husband's arm, and being also accompanied by the
Princess Royal and Prince of Wales. The Queen wore a dress of pink satin,
brocaded with gold; Prince Albert a Field-Marshal's uniform; the Prince of
Wales was in a Highland dress, while the Princess was clad in white satin,
with a wreath of flowers round her head. A tremendous burst of cheering,
renewed and prolonged from all parts of the building, greeted the
announcement of the arrival of the Queen.
[Sidenote: THE ADDRESS OF THE PRINCE.]
Her Majesty was conducted to her chair of state by the Commissioners,
Cabinet, and Foreign Ministers. As they stood around her chair, in their
bright Court dresses and brilliant uniforms, a choir of nearly a thousand
voices sang "God save the Queen." At the conclusion of its last strain,
Prince Albert descended from the dais, and taking his place with his
brother Commissioners, read a long address to Her Majesty, in which he
recited the history, plan, and intent of the magnificent and magnanimous
scheme which was so largely the product of his own heart and brain. These
and other less important particulars having been enumerated, the Prince
thus concluded:--
It affords us much gratification that, notwithstanding the magnitude
of this undertaking, and the great distances from which many of the
articles now exhibited have had to be collected, the day on which your
Majesty has graciously pleased to be present at the inauguration of
the Exhibition is the same day that was originally named for its
opening, thus affording a proof of what may, under God's blessing, be
accomplished by good-will and cordial co-operation amongst nations,
aided by the means which modern science has placed at our command.
Having thus briefly laid before your Majesty the results of our
labours, it now only remains for us to convey to your Majesty our
dutiful and loyal acknowledgments of the support and encouragement
which we have derived throughout this extensive and laborious task
from the gracious favour and countenance of your Majesty. It is our
heartfelt prayer that this undertaking, which has for its end the
promotion of all branches of human industry, and the strengthening of
the bonds of peace and friendship among all the nations of the earth,
may, by the blessing of Divine Providence, conduce to the welfare of
your Majesty's people, and be long remembered among the brightest
circumstances of your Majesty's peaceful and happy reign.
The Queen read a short reply, the tenor of which was warmly to re-echo the
hopes and sentiments contained in the address of the Prince. The
Archbishop of Canterbury then offered up a consecratory prayer, which was
followed by the performance of the "Hallelujah Chorus," under the
direction of Sir Henry Bishop. A very long procession, in which the Queen
went hand in hand with her son, and Prince Albert with his daughter, was
then marshalled, and having marched round the interior of the building, it
was declared formally opened.
CHAPTER XX.
THE WAR CLOUD.
Bright Hopes of Peace Dispelled--An Era of War all over the World--The
Russian War--The Queen's Visits to the Wounded Soldiers--Presentation
of the War Medals--Crimean Heroes--The Volunteer Movement.
Fair and peaceful to all seeming were the prospects of humanity and the
world when the doors of the Hyde Park Exhibition were closed for the last
time, and while its materials were being removed to be erected in more
than their pristine beauty on the summit of one of the finest heights
which environ the sloping basin on which the British metropolis is built.
But a cloud, it might be no bigger than a man's hand, but pregnant with
ill, was on the horizon. The Exhibition closed a long era of peace in
Europe and the world, an era which had been marred, so far as we were
concerned, only by wars in our most distant Oriental dependencies; and, so
far as the Continent was concerned, only by the aggressions of the
potentates who constituted the Holy Alliance, by the revolutionary
movements of 1848, and their sanguinary repression in the year following.
Against the hopes of all, and the belief of most, good men and women, the
Exhibition inaugurated one of the most martial terms of time which have
formed a part of purely modern history. A year had hardly gone by ere
Napoleon effected his _coup d'état_, that fertile source of future
evils--evils which are by no means yet exhausted. Then came the Russian
War, which cost us in England a hundred thousand lives and at least a
hundred millions of pounds. We had hardly celebrated, and rejoiced over,
and illuminated our dwellings and public buildings in celebration of, the
Peace of Paris, ere in India we had to put forth the utmost might of our
imperial power to vindicate our "Raj" over Moslem and Hindoo, and to
avenge the foul deeds done at Cawnpore. When Prince Albert was, in the
mystery of providential rule, stricken down in his prime, Italy and
Austria were just beginning to recover from the effects of the contests
waged between trained troops at the Voltorno and by the Garibaldian
guerillas in the Valteline. The first message which was conveyed by the
new-laid Atlantic cable was a message of good-will from the grand-daughter
of George III. to him who sat in the seat of the rebel Washington. The
first experimental cable had hardly been destroyed by the potency of old
ocean, churlish and jealous of the invasion of his domain, ere that great
contest broke out across the Atlantic, which brought about the abolition
of slavery throughout the United States. Hardly had our young Prince
brought home his bonny bride ere the subjects who owed her father
allegiance were called upon to hold their own against the mighty force
wielded by a power, of which the queenly diadem must ere long be worn by
England's dear and best-beloved daughter. The Danish War was hardly
concluded ere the aggressor, returning victorious from his northern
confines, turned his face to the south, and inflicted a catastrophe quite
as telling and decisive upon that ancient dynasty, which has been more
frequently allied with England in the great martial embroglios of the
past than any other power of Europe.
[Sidenote: AN ERA OF WAR.]
We have said that Napoleon's _coup d'état_ of December, 1852, sounded the
tocsin of that period of war which has lasted without sensible
intermission from then until now. With that _coup d'état_ Victoria found
herself by an accident somewhat closely allied. Some time after the close
of the parliamentary session of 1851, all England was startled by the
sudden announcement of the resignation by Lord Palmerston of the seals of
the Foreign Office, which he held in the first Administration of Lord John
Russell. On the meeting of Parliament in 1852, questions were at once
addressed to the Treasury Benches in both Houses soliciting explanations
of the circumstances. In the Lower House the querist was Sir Benjamin
Hawes. Lord John Russell declared his perfect readiness to answer the
question which had been put to him by Sir Benjamin Hawes, though he said
he could not do so without entering into some details. These "details"
were in the main as follows:--He commenced with a full and frank
acknowledgment of the energy, the ability, and the extensive knowledge of
the interests of England in all parts of the world which preeminently
distinguished Lord Palmerston, and said that he the more regretted, on
that account, that circumstances had occurred which prevented his acting
any longer with him as a colleague. He laid down at starting what he
conceived to be the correct doctrine as to the position which a Secretary
of State holds as regards the Crown in the administration of foreign
affairs. He held that when the Crown, in consequence of a vote of the
House of Commons, places its constitutional confidence in a minister,
that minister is, on the other hand, bound to afford the Crown its full
liberty--a liberty which the Crown must possess--of saying that the
minister no longer possesses its confidence. This was the general
doctrine; but it so happened that with regard to Lord Palmerston
individually, the precise terms were laid down, in 1850, in a
communication on the part of Her Majesty with respect to the transaction
of business between the Crown and the Foreign Secretary. Lord John said he
had been the organ of that communication, and therefore assumed its
responsibility. Its chief passage thus ran:--
The Queen requires, first, that Lord Palmerston will distinctly state
what he proposes in a given case, in order that the Queen may know as
distinctly to what she is giving her Royal sanction. Secondly, having
once given her sanction to a measure, that it be not arbitrarily
altered or modified by the Minister. Such an act she must consider as
failing in sincerity towards the Crown, and justly to be visited by
the exercise of her constitutional right of dismissing that Minister.
She expects to be kept informed of what passes between him and the
Foreign Ministers, before important decisions are taken based upon
that intercourse; to receive the foreign despatches in good time, and
to have the drafts for her approval sent to her in sufficient time to
make herself acquainted with their contents before they must be sent
off. The Queen thinks it best that Lord John Russell should show this
letter to Lord Palmerston.
[Sidenote: DISMISSAL OF LORD PALMERSTON.]
Lord John went on to say that, in his view, Lord Palmerston had violated
this explicit understanding, at least in two instances--one of a
comparatively trifling, but the other of a most important character--since
the conclusion of the session of the year previous (1851). The former had
reference to some incautious remarks which were said to have fallen from
the lips of the Foreign Secretary on the occasion of receiving a
deputation of sympathisers with Hungary. The other related to Napoleon's
_coup d'état_ of the 2nd of December previous. The instructions given to
our Ambassador at Paris by the Queen's Government were to abstain from all
interference with the internal affairs of France. Lord John had been
informed of an alleged conversation between Lord Palmerston and the French
Minister in London, the tenor of which was repugnant to those
instructions. He had therefore at once written to him, but his
communication had been treated with disdainful silence. Meanwhile Lord
Palmerston, without the knowledge of his colleagues, wrote a despatch to
Lord Normanby, our Minister at Paris, in which, however, he evaded the
question whether he approved the act of the President. He considered
altogether that Lord Palmerston had put himself in the place and assumed
the prerogative of the Crown; that he had "passed by" the Crown, while he
gave the moral approbation of England to the acts of Louis Napoleon, in
direct opposition to the policy which the Government had hitherto pursued.
Under these circumstances, he had no alternative but to declare that,
while he was Prime Minister, Lord Palmerston could not hold the seals of
office; for he had "forgotten and neglected what was due to the Crown and
his colleagues."
[Sidenote: THE WAR IN THE CRIMEA.]
On the 27th of March, 1854, the following message from the Crown was read
to the Peers by the Lord Chancellor. It explains itself. Nor is it
necessary for us to re-write here a single line of one of the brightest
and freshest pages of the recent history of England. We had long been
"drifting into war," to use Lord Clarendon's memorable phrase, and at
last the die was irrevocably, though reluctantly, cast.
VICTORIA R.
Her Majesty thinks it proper to acquaint the House that the
negotiations in which Her Majesty, in concert with her allies, has for
some time past been engaged with His Majesty the Emperor of All the
Russias, have terminated, and that Her Majesty feels bound to afford
active assistance to her ally the Sultan against unprovoked
aggression.
Her Majesty has given directions for laying before the House copies of
such papers, in addition to those already communicated to Parliament,
as will afford the fullest information with regard to the subject of
these negotiations. It is a consolation to reflect that no endeavours
have been wanting on her part to preserve to her subjects the
blessings of peace.
Her Majesty's just expectations have been disappointed, and Her
Majesty relies with confidence on the zeal and devotion of the House
of Lords, and the exertions of her brave and loyal subjects to support
her in her determination to employ the power and resources of the
nation for protecting the dominions of the Sultan against the
encroachments of Russia.
Alma, Balaklava, and Inkerman had been fought and won, and the horrid
winter in the trenches had not yet passed away. These days and nights of
constant fighting had left us many fell remembrances of their grievous
coming and going. The Eastern hospitals, at Scutari and within the lines
of our camp, were choke-full of the wounded. Some few who could bear the
pain of transit were brought home, and no one in England was more
solicitous of their welfare and wise and kindly tending than England's
Queen. Her visits to the hospitals were as welcome as they were frequent.
On the 8th of March, 1855, the Queen, accompanied by Prince Albert, and by
the Duke of Cambridge, the Prince of Wales, and Prince Alfred, visited the
military hospitals at Fort Pitt and Brompton, Chatham. Fort Pitt was then
the only general military hospital in England. As this hospital and that
of Brompton contained together only 361 patients, it could not be
considered that the royal visit was elicited by the peculiar calamities of
the place. But the immense extent of the hospitals in the East, and the
sufferings of the poor wounded soldiers lying within these vast
lazar-houses, had raised in the breast of all England a feeling of pity
and horror. In this feeling the Queen most deeply participated. While her
visit to the only hospital in this country in which the sufferers by the
war were received, was a gratification to her own kindly sympathies, and
most cheering and solacing to the inmates, it could not fail to convey to
the thousands of sufferers in the East, and to the kinsmen and kinswomen
whose hearts bled for them at home, that no heart was fuller of pity than
that of her under whose flag they had fought and fallen.
The whole of the wounded who were in a condition to leave their beds were
drawn up in chairs on the lawn, each having written upon it a card
containing the name and services of the occupant, the nature of his
wounds, and where they were received. The Queen passed along the line,
saying a few kind words to those sufferers who particularly attracted her
notice, or to those whose services were specially commended. She visited
every ward, except that containing fever cases. A few days after, the
Queen reviewed some cavalry and artillery at Woolwich. After the review,
she visited the hospital, and saw the wounded artillery-men who had
returned from the Crimea. Nor were these isolated exhibitions of sentiment
or emotion. Upon every occasion during the continuance of the war, the
Queen showed the most heartfelt sympathy with her brave soldiers; visited
their hospitals and transport ships; received the wounded at her palace,
and suggested and liberally assisted in the establishment of permanent
means of relief for them and their families. A beautiful letter of the
Queen, which was accidentally made public about this time, showed that in
the privacy of domestic life Her Majesty never forgot these sufferers.
Indeed, she complained that she was not kept sufficiently informed of the
needs of those who had returned wounded to their country.
[Sidenote: DISTRIBUTION OF WAR MEDALS.]
It was equally the Queen's duty and pleasure to reward conspicuous merit,
as it was to do all that lay within the limits of her human and regal
power to soothe the pangs of woe. One scene in which she discharged this
high queenly function will never be forgotten by those who were privileged
to witness it. The Queen determined to present with her own hand, to the
officers of the Crimean army, and to a portion of the non-commissioned
officers and privates, who had returned to their country disabled by their
wounds, the medals which they had so dearly won. This act of grace and
kindness deeply touched a sentiment that rested deep in the bosom of the
nation, that had, indeed, there rested ever since--nay, long
before--Elizabeth thrilled the heroic hearts of her people at Tilbury by
saying, "I myself will be your general and judge, and the rewarder of
every one of your victories in the field."
The presentation took place on the 18th of May, 1855. A royal dais was
erected in the centre of the parade of the Horse Guards, and the public
offices which surround it were filled up with galleries for the royal
family and nobility. Within an area enclosed by barriers, were the
intended recipients of the decorations. Without was a dense mass of
spectators. When the Queen had reached the ground, the Guards, who had
hitherto been in line, were formed four deep, and through the intervals
thus opened the Crimean heroes passed, and in a few moments the Queen
stood face to face with them. Each then passed singly, receiving his medal
at the hands of Her Majesty, who presented them with a grace and kindness
which brought tears to many an eye long unused to their effusion. The
first to receive his medal was the Duke of Cambridge, who was
enthusiastically received. Then followed other General officers, then the
staff, and then in order, without distinction of regimental rank, came
cavalry, artillery, engineers, and the line.
The sight was one of the most thrilling ever seen in our metropolis, or in
our times. The gaunt and pallid forms, scarred features, and maimed and
mutilated limbs, brought home to the heart of the least sympathetic the
ravages of war, and the cost and guerdon of bravery. Many of those who
hobbled upon crutches, or walked painfully with the assistance of a stick,
wore upon their arms the emblems of mourning for some brother or near
relative, now reposing by the waters of the Euxine or the Bosphorus. To
each one of the wounded, whether officer or private, the Queen said some
kind word or asked some kindly question of him. Many of the poor fellows
were quite overcome by the tenderness of her compassion. Those officers
whose wounds rendered them unable to walk, were wheeled past in Bath
chairs. Sir Thomas Troubridge, who lost both feet at Inkerman, and who
has since died, was the first of these. The Queen, leaning over his chair,
handed him his medal with the most gracious gesture, and conferred upon
him the post of aide-de-camp to herself. Captains Sayer and Currie, who
were also wheeled past, received similar sympathy.
After the soldiers, came 450 sailors and marines, under Admiral Dundas,
who was the first to be decorated. The ceremony over, the non-commissioned
officers and men of all services dined in the riding-school, where they
were visited by the Queen, her husband, and their children.
[Sidenote: THE VOLUNTEER MOVEMENT.]
Closely and intimately allied with the intense warlike feeling which
prevailed throughout the period which we have been traversing, was the
rise, or rather the revival from our grandfathers' times, of the Volunteer
movement, in the winter of 1858-9. This very notable phenomenon of modern
days was entirely of spontaneous origin and popular outgrowth. At first
the authorities looked but coldly upon it--wisely so, we think--until it
evinced inherent elements of vitality and reality of purpose, and until it
appeared that it was something more than a mere passing impulse. It was
not until the 15th of May, 1859, that a circular from the Secretary for
War gave to the movement official sanction, in the form of an
authoritative permission by the Queen for the formation of volunteer
corps. Ere a twelvemonth had elapsed, 70,000 men had enrolled themselves
in England and Scotland; and before the end of the summer of 1860, that
number had swollen into 170,000. In many other and more emphatic modes the
Queen graciously accorded her own personal sanction and her warm and
approving recognition to the movement. At a special levée, held in March,
1859, all volunteer officers had the opportunity of being presented. At
the first meeting at Wimbledon of the National Rifle Association, in July,
1860, Her Majesty founded an annual prize, in value £250. At the same
meeting she fired the first shot, discharging a rifle, which had been
carefully adjusted to a target 400 yards distant. The cheers of the
assembled thousands welcomed the impact of the bullet within a quarter of
an inch of the bull's eye, and one of many Swiss gentlemen, who were
present as competitors, felicitously remarked that Queen Victoria was now
_la première carabinière de l'Angleterre_.
[Sidenote: THE HYDE PARK REVIEW.]
The 23rd of June in this year was a still greater day for the volunteer
army, and for the country, for it proved how earnestly the riflemen had
devoted themselves to training and to discipline. Her Majesty having
expressed her desire to review the young force on that day, arrangements
were made by the War Office, whereby every corps that had attained a
certain excellence might be represented by its efficient members. The
numbers and strength of the corps that presented themselves for inspection
caused great surprise. Not only London and Westminster, and the densely
populated metropolitan counties, sent ample contingents, but the energies
of the railway companies were taxed to the utmost to bring up bodies of
men from the west of England, the Midlands, Lancashire, Yorkshire, and
East Anglia--even from distant Northumbria. The authorities ultimately
found that they would have to make arrangements for placing 20,000 men in
review order. The review became a national spectacle, a general holiday
was arranged, and an immense assemblage, provincial as well as
metropolitan, was assembled in Hyde Park. The Queen's stand was placed in
the centre of a long line of galleries erected for the accommodation of
about 17,000 privileged spectators, its situation being indicated by the
Royal Standard planted before it. At different hours of the morning, the
provincial corps, some of which must have travelled all night, were landed
at the railway termini--the Durham Artillery, which had travelled
farthest, being the first to reach King's Cross. The river steam-boats
landed their freights at convenient piers: the suburban bodies mustered at
their appointed stations. The whole operation of marching the respective
battalions and brigades, amalgamated as agreed on, was performed with
unerring precision and perfect ease, thanks to the intelligent zeal of the
men and the clear heads of their officers. By two o'clock, 21,000, formed
in one long line, extended completely across the park. The space of time
which intervened between the successive arrivals of the corps and the
commencement of the review, offered one of the most picturesque spectacles
witnessed in our days.
Exactly at four o'clock the Queen arrived on the ground in an open
carriage. Accompanying her were the King of the Belgians, the Princess
Alice, and Prince Arthur. The Prince Consort and the Prince of Wales were
on horseback. The Queen was attended by a magnificent following of general
officers, aides-de-camp, staff officers, foreign military men of
distinction, and the Lords-Lieutenant of the counties which furnished
contingents to the force on the ground. There were also in attendance on
the Sovereign the Duke of Cambridge and Mr. Sidney Herbert, the official
heads of the army. Remarkable amongst the group was Field-Marshal Lord
Combermere, who had counted no fewer than seventy years of military duty.
As the cortège swept on to the ground the volunteers stood to arms, their
bands playing the National Anthem. The scene now presented was in truth a
magnificent one. On one side, from north to south, stood the thick lines
of the volunteers, their somewhat sombre ranks varied by masses of dark
uniforms, with here and there a mass of scarlet, the whole thrown into
relief by the background of the trees of Kensington Gardens. From west to
east, dense lines of people extended, many being raised head over head by
the most precarious and illusory elevations. From north to south, at the
eastern end of the park, and facing the line of volunteers, a glittering
line of military uniforms of officers and the gay dresses of ladies who
accompanied them gave a varied and rich fringe to the human masses of the
_élite_ of the land who occupied the galleries above them. The green space
so enclosed was dotted and animated by the bright scarlet, glittering
cuirasses, snowy plumes, and jet-black steeds of the Life Guardsmen, who
kept the ground.
The Queen, followed by the whole of her brilliant Court, drove to the
extreme left of the volunteer line, and thence slowly passed along the
whole front to where the extreme right came close up to the lofty houses
at Albert Gate. Then turning, she drew up on the open ground, the Royal
Standard proudly waving above her. The bands of the Household Brigade
being placed opposite her, the volunteers now began to defile past,
between Her Majesty and the bands. The march was commenced by the mounted
corps, few in number, but admirably equipped and with remarkably fine
horses. The infantry were headed by the Artillery Company, to whom, as
the oldest volunteer body existing, not only in England but in Europe, the
priority has always been accorded. For an hour and a half corps after
corps marched past, until the long succession was closed by a regiment
from Cheshire. When the whole had passed, and all had returned to their
original positions, the whole line advanced in columns of battalions, and,
by signal, cheered Her Majesty with vociferous earnestness. After
expressing her high satisfaction with what she had seen, the Queen left
the ground about six o'clock. Before eight o'clock all the volunteers had
been marched out of the park, and there remained within its gates only
meagre remnants of the enormous crowd of spectators.
[Sidenote: THE REVIEW AT EDINBURGH.]
The opinions of competent authorities on the creditable manner in which
this experimental review passed off were of the highest character. The
Commander-in-Chief issued a general order, by command of the Queen, in
which His Royal Highness spoke in the highest terms of the efficiency
displayed by the various corps, and of Her Majesty's appreciation of the
loyalty and devotion exhibited by the volunteer movement. Later in the
season the Queen, when on her customary autumnal route to Balmoral,
reviewed in the Queen's Park, at Edinburgh, the volunteers of her northern
kingdom, to the number of 12,000.
CHAPTER XXI.
THE QUEEN IN HER HIGHLAND HOME.
The Queen as an Author--"The Early Years of the Prince
Consort"--"Leaves from the Journal of our Life in the Highlands"--Love
for Children of all Ranks--Mountain Ascents on Pony-back--In Fingal's
Cave--"The Queen's Luck"--Salmon-spearing, and a Catastrophe attending
it--Erection of a Memorial Cairn--Freedom of Intercourse with Humble
Highlanders--Visits to Cottagers--"Mrs. Albert"--Travelling
Incognito--Highland Dinners--"A Wedding-Party frae Aberdeen"--A
Disguise Detected.
Early in January of the year 1868, Queen Victoria added her name to the
distinguished roll of Royal authors. In the year preceding, there had been
published a work entitled, "The Early Years of the Prince Consort," in
which the life of her revered and lamented husband is traced from its
beginning, down to the first period of their common wedded life. On the
title-page of this work appears the name, as author, of General the
Honourable Charles Grey, a gentleman who accompanied the Prince in a tour
to Italy before his marriage, and who has ever since remained attached, in
high capacities, to the Royal Household. This book, to which we have been
indebted for important materials reproduced by us at certain of the
earlier stages of our narrative, was published with the sanction of Her
Majesty, and its compiler received from his Royal Mistress most, if not
all, of the materials which he very tastefully combined. But the Queen
did not appear in it as author _in propriâ personâ_, save in the instance
of certain occasional notes and addenda to which her imprint is attached.
The work published in 1868, on the other hand, "Leaves from the Journal of
Our Life in the Highlands," is entirely, save a brief editorial
introduction, from the Queen's pen. It is precisely, as its name imports,
a series of extracts from a journal kept from day to day, and extended
from Her Majesty's earliest married days far into those of her widowhood.
Special passages are, in addition, given from similar diaries, which
recorded yacht trips to the beautiful estuary of the Tamar, to the Duchy
of Cornwall, and to the Channel Islands. There is also furnished a very
sparkling and vivacious record of the Queen's first visit to Ireland, in
1849, which will be found duly recorded by us in a previous chapter.
Nothing charms more in these pages than the love displayed for all young
people--for the writer's own sons and daughters, who are described by
their home pet names; "Vicky," and "Bertie," standing, for example, for
Victoria and Albert--for the infant child of a ducal entertainer, depicted
as "a dear, white, fat, fair little fellow," and "such a merry,
independent little child"--or for the children of humble cottagers at
Balmoral, for "Mary Symons and Lizzie Stuart dancing so nicely; the latter
with her hair all hanging down." When the Queen and Prince and the
children land at Dundee, what charms the fond young mother most is, that
"Vicky" behaves like a grown-up person, and is "not put out, nor
frightened, nor nervous." And when a little grandchild of Lord Camperdown
presented the youthful Princess Royal with a nosegay, the reflection that
rose to the mother's mind was, that she could hardly believe that she was
travelling as a wife and a mother; for it seemed but as yesterday that
she, as a child, in the tours taken with _her_ mother through England,
used to receive similar childish tokens. She was at once put in mind of
the time when _she_ had been "the little Princess."
[Sidenote: HAPPY DAYS IN THE HIGHLANDS.]
Accounts of rides on shaggy Highland ponies to the tops of mountains, and
more lengthened _incognito_ excursions in whatever vehicles could be
procured at third-rate country inns, are thickly scattered over the pages
of the "Journal."
The Western Islands, as well as the Highlands, were at least on one
occasion visited. Anchoring close by wondrous Staffa, the Queen
disembarked, and was rowed in a barge into Fingal's Cave. This was the
first time that the British standard, with a Queen of Great Britain and
her husband and children, had ever entered the portals of this wondrous
freak of nature, and the Gaelic oarsmen gave three cheers, the echoes of
which from the inmost recesses of the cave were most impressive.
On another mountain ramble, the Queen seated herself calmly, the youthful
Prince of Wales lying among the heather by her side, while Prince Albert
went to stalk a deer. He brought down a "royal," that is, a stag which has
over a certain number of "tines" to his horns; on which the somewhat
superstitious Highland keeper at once said that "it was Her Majesty's
coming out that had brought the good luck." The Highlanders all believed
that the Queen had "a lucky foot."
[Sidenote: SALMON-SPEARING IN SCOTLAND.]
Amongst other Highland sports which curiosity and great love of adventure
led her to witness, was salmon spearing, or "leistering." While the
keepers were beating the waters, the Highland gentlemen wading in the
stream, and Prince Albert watching, spear in hand, on a boulder, the Queen
watched from the brink this, the most exciting of all river sports, save,
perhaps, otter hunting. Suddenly she was alarmed, and with most abundant
cause. Two of the men imprudently went into a very deep pool. One of them
could not swim, and he sank to the bottom. There was a cry for help, and a
general rush by the Prince and others to the spot. The Queen was much
frightened, and grasped the arm of the minister in attendance, Lord
Carlisle, in great agony. But Dr. Robertson, the Queen's "factor," or
agent over the Balmoral estate, swam in and got the too venturesome Gael
out safely. The Queen, after this "horrid moment," had the satisfaction of
seeing eight salmon speared or netted; and was further amused by a curious
piece of Highland courtesy--her own "men" carrying all the "men" of
Colonel Forbes, a neighbour, dry shod on their backs through the water.
They had come to see the sport, and the Queen's gillies at once insisted
on their conveying them to the most favourable side of the stream.
A great day was that on which a cairn was erected on one of the heights
overlooking Balmoral to celebrate the building of the new castle, which
the Queen raised in lieu of the mansion which had stood on the estate when
she was its tenant, and ere by its purchase she entered into proprietary
possession. The morning was a fine one, and at eleven o'clock the Royal
party started for the ascent of Craig Cowan, where already nearly all the
dependants were assembled. The Royal children, and all the ladies and
gentlemen, accompanied the Queen and Prince. All the children of the
Queen's neighbouring tenants, and of her servants, were already on the
top. The Queen laid the first stone, and the Prince the second, and then
their children according to their ages. Then all the ladies and gentlemen
of the Court placed a stone each. The pipers played the while, and whisky
was served out to every one. It took an hour to build the cairn, and
dancing and merry revels went on without intermission until its
completion; the very oldest of the women danced, and the youngsters were
wild with glee. An old favourite dog sat reflectively contemplating a
scene to which his veteran gravity prevented his indulging in any
responsive and sympathetic gambols. At last when the cairn, having
attained to the respectable height of some eight feet, was pronounced all
but complete, the Prince climbed to its summit and placed the last stone,
and three hearty cheers announced to the dwellers below the completion of
the enterprise and edifice. The Queen concludes her chronicle of its
erection in these words:--"It was a gay, pretty, and touching sight, and I
felt almost inclined to cry. The view was so beautiful over the dear
hills, the day so fine, the whole so _gemüthlich_. May God bless this
place, and allow us yet to see it and enjoy it many a long year!"
The Queen and her family have always made it a practice to enter into the
freest and most unrestrained conversation with the dignified, independent,
courteous, and truly well-bred Highlanders. As she rode along a hill-side
one day, "Alice and Bertie" accompanying her on foot, Prince Albert was
conversing very gaily with one of the gillies, upon which the one who led
the Queen's pony observed, "It's very pleasant to walk with a person who
is always content." And when the Queen, following up her attendant's
remark, said that he was never cross after bad sport, the gillie rejoined,
"Every one on the estate says there never was so kind a master; our only
wish is to give satisfaction." The Queen replied that that wish they
certainly succeeded in fulfilling. And at a future date the Queen thus
annotated that passage in her journal from which we have been
borrowing:--"We were always in the habit of conversing with the
Highlanders, with whom we came so much in contact in the Highlands. The
Prince highly appreciated the good breeding, simplicity, and intelligence
which makes it so pleasant, and even instructive, to talk to them."
[Sidenote: THE QUEEN AND SCOTTISH COTTAGERS.]
The Queen takes especial pleasure in visiting the old women's cottages, by
some of whom, we have been told, she is not unfrequently addressed--or at
least was so, when she was yet new to the north and the northerners new to
her--as "Mrs. Albert." One old dame of eighty-six, erect and dignified as
she sat at her spinning-wheel, received personally from Her Majesty the
gift of a warm flannel petticoat. This was her pious and eloquent form of
thanks: "May the Lord ever attend you and yours, here and hereafter, and
may the Lord be a guide to ye, and keep ye from all harm!" Another aged
pensioner, who was quite friendly, and shook hands with all her party of
visitors, chose this form of benediction: "May the Lord attend you with
mirth and with joy; may He ever be with you in this world, and when ye
leave it!"
[Sidenote: THE QUEEN IN DISGUISE.]
The Queen's mode of travelling as an _incognita_ has never gone beyond a
journey of three or four days' duration to some Highland district, in
which the very amplitude of her retinue, even when abridged of its usual
proportions, prevented her passing otherwise than as a person of
distinction, but in which it was possible to keep her _queenly_ rank
undiscovered. Sometimes the mask was successfully worn to the end of the
trip, to the great enjoyment of the Queen, her "gentle" attendants, and
her servants. On one or two occasions, recognitions, unfortunate for the
success of the very innocent plot, were made by persons to whom the
Queen's face was familiar. On one of these trips, two shabby vehicles
contained the whole party, which consisted of the Royal pair, Sir George
Grey, Lady Churchill, and a small complement of servants. It had been
arranged that the tourists should pass as Lord and Lady Churchill (the
Queen and Prince assuming these _rôles_), Lady Churchill becoming Miss
Spencer, and Sir George Grey becoming "Dr." Grey. Once or twice the
servants, who were of necessity in the plot, forgot their instructions,
and blurted out "your Majesty," and "your Royal Highness;" but, luckily,
no one heard the _faux pas_. After a very long and fatiguing drive through
a district remarkably denuded of habitations, they arrived, at nightfall,
at an inn of very small pretensions. They alighted, Sir George Grey and
Lady Churchill, faithful to the necessities of the situation, giving no
indication, by any deference of manner, of the quality of their
fellow-travellers. Being ushered into small but tidy sleeping and dressing
apartments, they had their travel-stains removed, and sat down to such a
dinner as the resources of the establishment afforded. The two gillies in
attendance were to have waited at table, but their bashfulness prevented
their undertaking duties so entirely out of their line; so a damsel in
ringlets, attached to the inn, performed the necessary duties. The repast
consisted of a very delicate and delicious Scottish soup, known as
"hodge-podge"--which, to be tasted to perfection, however, must be
partaken of in early summer, when vegetables (of many kinds of which it is
composed) are young and tender--mutton broth, fowls, "good" roast lamb,
and "very good" potatoes. A bottle of wine the travellers had taken care
to bring with them. They were less fortunate on the occasion of another
similar trip, when all that could be procured was a couple of remarkably
small and lean fowls, the remnants of which were sent down to the
servants, with appetites rendered voracious by the keen mountain air. On
this latter trip, a commercial traveller was much annoyed at his exclusion
from the "commercial room," which was reserved for the servants. In answer
to his remonstrance, the landlady pacified him by stating that the guests,
who occupied her whole house, were "a wedding-party frae Aberdeen."
When the cavalcade of the two "shabby vehicles" drove away, on the next
morning, it was evident that "the murder was out," and that the inmates of
the inn had discovered the quality of their guests, and communicated it to
the scanty population of the village; for "all the people were in the
street, and the landlady waved a pocket-handkerchief, and the ringletted
maid a flag, from the window."
CHAPTER XXII.
THE WIDOWED QUEEN.
Unbroken Happiness of the Queen's Life up to 1861--Death of the
Duchess of Kent--The Prince Consort slightly Ailing--Catches Cold at
Cambridge and Eton--The Malady becomes Serious--Public Alarm--Rapid
Sinking, and Death--Sorrow of the People--The Queen's
Fortitude--Avoidance of Court Display--Good Deeds--Sympathy with all
Benevolent Actions--Letter of Condolence to the Widow of President
Lincoln--The Albert Medal--Conclusion.
Until 1861 the Queen had never known bereavement in the circle of her own
immediate family. Nine children had been born to her, and, although it is
understood that certain of her younger offspring do not possess that
robustness of health which their elder brothers and sisters enjoy, yet not
one had been snatched from their loving parents by the hand of the Great
Destroyer. Early in 1861 came the first pang of bereavement. The Duchess
of Kent, ripe in years, one of the best of mothers and one of the best of
grandmothers, a lady to whose memory all Britons now and hereafter owe an
incalculable debt of gratitude, passed peacefully away with her
descendants gathered around her bedside.
[Sidenote: LAST DAYS OF PRINCE ALBERT.]
When the Royal Family returned from Balmoral in October, it was observed
that the Prince Consort was not in his usual health and vigour, but he had
no pronounced ailment, and nothing approaching to serious alarm was for
many weeks apprehended. In the course of the succeeding month he went to
Cambridge, to visit the Prince of Wales, who was a student at that
University, as he had previously been for a short time at Oxford. He went
out shooting while there, got wet, and, as the Duke of Kent had done, was
so imprudent as to sit down without removing his wet clothes.
Nevertheless, on his return to Windsor, he pursued his usual daily
avocations. About the beginning of December he appeared in public with the
Queen, and reviewed the volunteer corps raised among the Eton boys. The
rain fell fast, and the Prince was seized on the review ground with acute
pains in the back. Feverish symptoms supervened, and the doctors ordered
confinement to his room. Still no alarm was entertained, and it was
believed that he suffered only from a passing malady. The general public
knew nothing of the ailment until some solicitude was caused by a
bulletin, which appeared in the _Court Circular_ of the 8th December:--
His Royal Highness the Prince Consort has been confined to his
apartments for the past week, suffering from a feverish cold, with
pains in his limbs. Within the last few days the feverish symptoms
have rather increased, and are likely to continue for some time
longer, but there are no unfavourable symptoms. The party which had
been invited by Her Majesty's command to assemble at Windsor Castle on
Monday has been countermanded.
Not until the 13th was any bulletin issued which caused real anxiety and
alarm. On the day following, the morning papers contained the ominous
announcement that he had "passed a restless night, and the symptoms had
assumed an unfavourable character during the day." The _Times_, in a
leading article, while hoping for the best, startled all by its statement
that "the fever which has attacked him is a weakening and wearying
malady." On the morning of Saturday there was a favourable turn, but which
was soon followed by a most serious relapse. About four p.m. the fever
assumed a malignant typhoid type, and he began to sink with such rapidity
that all stimulants failed to check the quick access of weakness. At nine
o'clock a telegram was received in the City that the Prince was dying
fast, and at a few minutes before eleven all was over. "On Saturday night
last," said one of the daily journals of the succeeding Monday, "at an
hour when the shops in the metropolis had hardly closed, when the theatres
were delighting thousands of pleasure-seekers, when the markets were
thronged with humble buyers seeking to provide for their Sunday
requirements, when the foot-passengers yet lingered in the half-emptied
streets, allured by the soft air of a calm, clear evening, a family in
which the whole interest of this great nation is centred were assembled,
less than five-and-twenty miles away, in the Royal residence at Windsor,
in the deepest affliction around the death-bed of a beloved husband and
father. In the prime of life, without--so to speak--a longer warning than
that of forty-eight hours, Prince Albert, the Consort of our Queen, the
parent of our future Monarchs, has been stricken down by a short but
malignant disorder." Shortly after midnight, the great bell of St. Paul's,
which is never tolled except upon the death of a member of the Royal
Family, boomed the fatal tidings over a district extending, in the
quietude of the early Sabbath morn, for miles around the metropolis.
[Sidenote: DEATH OF PRINCE ALBERT.]
The Queen, the Princess Alice, and the Prince of Wales, who had been
hastily summoned from Cambridge, sat with the dying good man until the
last. After the closing scene the Queen supported herself nobly, and
after a short burst of uncontrollable grief, she is said to have gathered
her children around her, and addressed them in the most solemn and
affectionate terms. "She declared to her family that, though she felt
crushed by the loss of one who had been her companion through life, she
knew how much was expected of her, and she accordingly called on her
children to give her their assistance, in order that she might do her duty
to them and the country." The Duke of Cambridge and many gentlemen
connected with the Court, with six of the Royal children, were present at
the Prince's death. In answer to some one of those present who tenderly
offered condolence, the Queen is reported to have said: "I suppose I must
not fret too much, for many poor women have to go through the same trial."
The sad news became generally known in the metropolis and in the great
cities of the empire early on Sunday. Unusually large congregations filled
the churches and chapels at morning service. "There was a solemn eloquence
in the subdued but distinctly perceptible sensation which crept over the
congregations in the principal churches when, in the prayer for the Royal
family, the Prince Consort's name was omitted. It was well remarked, if
ever the phrase was permissible, it might then be truly said that the name
of the departed Prince was truly conspicuous by its absence, for never was
the gap that this event has made in our national life, as well as in the
domestic happiness of the Palace, more vividly realised than when the name
that has mingled so familiarly in our prayers for the last twenty years
was, for the first time, left out of our public devotions." Many
thousands of mute pious petitions were specially addressed to Heaven for
the bereaved widow and orphans when the prayer of the Litany for "all who
are desolate and oppressed" was uttered, and in the chapels of
Nonconformists the extemporaneous prayers of the ministers gave articulate
expression to the heartfelt orisons of the silent worshippers. Every one
thought of and felt for the Queen, and during the week intervening between
the death and the funeral, the question on every one's lips in all places
of resort, and where men and women congregated, was, "How will the Queen
bear it?"
Prince Albert sleeps the long sleep at Frogmore, to which his mortal
remains were borne reverently, and without ostentation, as he himself
would have wished. The inscription on his coffin ran thus:--
DEPOSITUM
ILLUSTRISSIMI ET CELSISSIMI ALBERTI,
PRINCIPIS CONSORTIS,
DUCIS SAXONIÆ,
DE SAXE-COBURG ET GOTHA PRINCIPIS,
NOBILISSIMI ORDINIS PERISCELIDIS EQUITIS,
AUGUSTISSIMÆ ET POTENTISSIMÆ VICTORIÆ REGINÆ,
CONJUGIS PERCARISSIMI,
OBIIT DIE DECIMO QUARTO DECEMBRIS, MDCCCLXI.
ANNO ÆTATIS SUÆ XLIII.
[Here lies the most illustrious and exalted Albert, Prince Consort,
Duke of Saxony, Prince of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha, Knight of the Most
Noble Order of the Garter, the most beloved husband of the most august
and potent Queen Victoria. He died on the fourteenth day of December,
1861, in the forty-third year of his age.]
Thus died and was buried a great and a good man, one of the most useful
men of his age, one to whom England owes much.
"For that he loved our Queen,
And, for her sake, the people of her love,
Few and far distant names shall rank above
His own, where England's cherish'd names are seen."
[Sidenote: THE QUEEN IN HER WIDOWHOOD.]
The Queen has ever since her great bereavement most constantly and piously
revered the Prince's memory. Her reverence has taken the practical form of
the deepest sympathy with the woes and sorrows of the poorest and humblest
of her subjects. She has eschewed the pomp and ceremony of State, and
deliberately set herself to discover and soothe sorrow, and to recognise
all good deeds of the same character performed by others. When the noble
Peabody bestowed his princely act of munificence on the poor of London, no
recognition was made of his generosity more signal than that made by the
Queen. She has been among the first to help by loving words and by
practical aid the sufferers by any great national calamity--a Lancashire
famine, a shipwreck or railway accident, a colliery explosion, a
catastrophe caused by mad and futile sedition. Ready and sympathetic
condolence has especially flowed from her to those bereaved like herself,
and when President Lincoln perished at his post, the Queen sent to his
widow a long letter which her son described as "the outgushing of a
woman's heartfelt sympathy," and which, with rare and commendable good
taste, has never been exposed to the public eye. Most fitly has she
specially commemorated her husband's memory by the institution of a fit
companion and complement to the Victoria Cross, the "Albert Medal," which
is bestowed on brave men who save lives from the "Peril of the Sea or
Shipwreck."
Many consolations have been vouchsafed by Heaven to the widowed Queen.
Since she lost her great stay and support her realm has for the most part
been prosperous and contented. Though environed by many troubles, and
though the clang of battle has shaken the world, the dove of peace has
benignantly hovered o'er Britain. Much advance has been made in those
fields of social, moral, political, and educational improvement which were
so dear to Albert's heart, as they have always been to her own. And
shortly before the period when these pages are first given to the public,
the political progress of the nation has received a great stimulus, such
as is given in a people's history only at rare and long intervals. Her
children grow up from youth to maturity, and from maturity to maternity
and paternity, without a slur upon their fair names, and are, with those
to whom the elder of them have united themselves in wedlock, all that a
proud mother's heart could wish. God has stricken her; but He has proved
also an Infinite Healer and Solacer. Ours be it to add to the ordinary
motives of patriotism, those more tender and touching influences which
arise from the recollection that our Queen is now, as said that Queen of
England whose subjects were Shakespeare and Bacon, Spenser and
Sidney--"Married to her People."
THE END.
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