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Title: The Life and Times of Queen Victoria; vol. 1 of 4

Author: Robert Wilson
Edmund Ollier

Release date: April 12, 2020 [eBook #61819]
Most recently updated: October 17, 2024

Language: English

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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LIFE AND
TIMES OF QUEEN VICTORIA; VOL. 1 OF 4 ***

Contents.
List of Illustrations
(In certain versions of this etext [in

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(etext transcriber's note)

HER MAJESTY THE QUEEN.
From a Photograph by Mr. Walery, London

THE

LIFE AND TIMES

OF

QUEEN VICTORIA.
BY
ROBERT WILSON.

——
Illustrated.
——

VOL. I.

C A S S E L L & C O M P A N Y, Limited:

LONDON, PARIS & MELBOURNE.

[ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.]

EDITORIAL NOTE.
The first Eleven Chapters of this Work
are from the pen of the late Mr.
Edmund Ollier, to whom the Publishers
originally entrusted the commission to
write it—a commission which he was
compelled to resign by the illness which
terminated in his lamented death.

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I

EARLY YEARS OF THE PRINCESS VICTORIA.

PAGE
A Remarkable Visit to Kensington Palace—Death of King William IV.—Details of his Last Days
—Parliamentary Eulogies on his Character—Progress in the Last Half-Century—Ancestry of
Queen Victoria—Her Descent Traced to Odoacer, King of Italy—Saxon Ancestors of her
Majesty—Liberal Views of the Duke of Kent, Father of the Queen—State of the Succession
after the Death of the Princess Charlotte—Marriage of the Duke of Kent, and Birth of the
Princess Victoria—Christening at Kensington Palace—The Name “Victoria,” and its
Associations—Death of the Duke of Kent—Kensington Palace in the Seventeenth and
Eighteenth Centuries—Early Training of Victoria by her Mother—Child-Life of the Princess—
False Rumours of Ill-Health—Anecdotes of Juvenile Years—The Princess and George IV.—
Accession of William IV.—The Regency Bill—Prince Leopold and the Throne of Belgium—
Studies of the Princess—Her Life of Retirement—Home Tours in Various Parts of England—
Visit to the Cotton Mills of the Messrs. Strutt at Belper—Reception at Oxford and at
Southampton—Benevolence to an Actress—Her Royal Highness Declared of Age on the 24th
of May, 1837 1

CHAPTER II

EARLY EVENTS OF THE NEW REIGN.

First Council of the Queen—Her Address to the Assembled Dignitaries—Admirable Demeanour
of the Young Sovereign—Proclamation of Queen Victoria—Condition of the Empire at the
Time of her Accession—Character of Lord Melbourne, the Prime Minister—His Training of the
Queen in Constitutional Principles—Question of the Royal Prerogative and the Choosing of the
Ministry—Removal of the Queen to Buckingham Palace—First Levee—Her Majesty’s Speech
on the Dissolution of Parliament—Amelioration of the Criminal Laws—Results of the General
Election—Meeting of the New Legislature—The Civil List Fixed—Relations of the Queen
towards the Duchess of Kent—Daily Life of her Majesty—Royal Visit to the City—
Insurrection in the Two Canadas—Measures of the Government, and Suppression of the Revolt
—The Melbourne Administration and Lord Durham—Reform of the Canadian Constitution 19

CHAPTER III

THE DIFFICULTIES OF A YOUNG SOVEREIGN.

Decline in the Popularity of the Queen—Its Causes—Her Majesty Accused of Encouraging the
Papists—Alleged Design to Assassinate the Monarch—Disloyal Toryism—Honourable
Conduct of the Queen—Fatal Riots at Canterbury, owing to the Pretensions of John Nicholls
Thom—Preparations for the Coronation—The Ceremony at Westminster Abbey—Incidents of
the Day—Mismanagement at Coronations—Development of Steam Navigation and the
Railway System—Prorogation of Parliament in August, 1838—Difficult Position of the
Government—Rise of Chartism—Appearance of Mr. Gladstone and Mr. Disraeli in the
Political Arena—Failure of Mr. Disraeli’s First Speech—“Conservatives” and “Liberals”—
Capture of Aden, in Southern Arabia—Wars with China, owing to the Smuggling of Opium
into that Country by the Anglo-Indians—Troubles in Jamaica—Bill for Suspending the
Constitution—Defeat and Resignation of the Melbourne Government—Ineffectual Attempt of
Sir Robert Peel to Form a Cabinet—The Question of the Bedchamber Women—Reinstatement
of the Melbourne Administration 35

CHAPTER IV

COURTSHIP AND MARRIAGE.

English Chartism in the Summer of 1839—Riots in Birmingham—Principal Leaders of the
Chartist Party—Excesses of the Artisans in Various Parts of Great Britain and Ireland—Chartist
Rising at Newport, Monmouthshire—Conviction of Frost, Williams, and Jones—The Queen
and Prince Albert—Early Life of the Prince—His Engaging Qualities—Desire of King Leopold
to Effect a Matrimonial Engagement between Prince Albert and the Princess Victoria—First
Visit of the Former to England—His Studies in Germany—Informal Understanding between
Prince Albert and Queen Victoria—Difficulties of the Case—The Prince’s View of the Matter
in the Autumn of 1839—Second Visit to England, and Formal Betrothal—Letter of Baron
Stockmar on the Subject—Announcement of the Royal Marriage to the Privy Council and to
Parliament—The Appointment of the Prince’s Household—Subjects of Difficulty and
Dissension—Question of the Prince’s Religion—Reduction of his Annuity by a Vote of the
House of Commons—Progress from Gotha to England, and Reception at Buckingham Palace—
Marriage of Prince Albert to the Queen at the Chapel Royal, St. James’s 57

CHAPTER V

THE FIRST YEAR OF MARRIED LIFE.

Difficulties of the Early Married Life of Prince Albert—His Unpopularity in Certain Quarters— 71
Attempt to Suppress Duelling in the Army—Position of the Prince in the Royal Household—
Want of Supervision in the Management of the Palace—Introduction of Reforms, on the
Initiative of Prince Albert—Duties Assumed by the Prince—Domestic Life—Post Office
Reform—Defective State of the Service previous to 1840—Rowland Hill and the Penny Post—
Opposition to the New Scheme—Introduction of the Lower Rate of Postage—General Features
and Effects of the Change—Measure for the Protection of Children Employed in Chimney-
Sweeping—Attempt of Edward Oxford to Shoot the Queen—Appointment of Prince Albert as
Regent under certain Eventualities—Life and Studies at Windsor—Birth of the Princess Royal
—Devotion of the Prince to her Majesty—Christmas at Windsor (1840)—Christening of the
Princess—Accident to Prince Albert—The Eastern Question: Turkey and Egypt—Removal of

the Body of Napoleon I. from St. Helena to Paris—Rise and Development of the Agitation for
Free Trade

CHAPTER VI

TROUBLES IN THE STATE, AND HAPPINESS AT HOME. PAGE

Growing Unpopularity of the Melbourne Administration—The Stockdale Case—Approaching
Fall of the Government—Financial Embarrassments—Lord John Russell’s Proposal with
respect to the Corn Laws—Defeat of the Ministry—General Election, and Conservative
Majority—Views of Prince Albert—Settlement of the “Bedchamber” Question—Wise Counsel
of the Prince and Baron Stockmar—Visits of the Queen to Places of Interest—Troublesome
Loyalty—Launch of the Trafalgar—The Melbourne Government and Free Trade—Speech
from the Throne on the Meeting of the New Parliament—Vote of Want of Confidence in the
Government—Resignation of Ministers—Final Years of Lord Melbourne—Formation and
Chief Objects of Sir Robert Peels Administration—The High Church Movement in England—
Disruption of the Church of Scotland—Lord Melbourne’s Opinion of Prince Albert—Sir
Robert Peel and the Prince—Public Appearances of the Latter in Connection with Social and
Artistic Questions—Birth and Christening of the Prince of Wales—Meeting of Parliament for
the Session of 1842—Splendid Festivities at Court—Attempts of Francis and Bean to Shoot her
Majesty 89

CHAPTER VII

CONVULSIONS IN THE EAST.

Approaches to a Great Tragedy—State of Afghanistan—Position of Dost Mahomed in 1836—
Mission of Captain Burnes to Cabul in 1837—Afghanistan, England, and Russia—
Determination of the Governor-General of India to Restore Shah Soojah to the Afghan Throne
—Garbling of Burnes’s Despatches—Action of the Anglo-Indian Government against the
Russians before Herat—British Invasion of Afghanistan in 1839—Difficulties, Dangers, and
Successes of the Campaign—Cold Reception of Shah Soojah at Cabul—Operations in the
Khyber Pass—Outbreak of Insurrections against the Restored Power—Actions with the British
—Surrender of Dost Mahomed—Increased Turmoil among the Afghans—Massacre of
November 2nd, 1841—Imbecility of General Elphinstone—Murder of Sir William Macnaghten
—Agreement between the British Authorities and Akbar Khan—Retreat of the Army of
Occupation—Horrors of the March, and Complete Destruction of the Army—Defence of
Jelalabad by Sir Robert Sale—Operations of Generals Nott, Pollock, and Sale—Capture of
Cabul—Release of the Prisoners, and Close of the War—Lord Ellenborough and the Gates of
Somnauth—Murder of Stoddart and Conolly in Bokhara—Disturbed State of England in 1842
—The Queen’s First Visit to Scotland—Receipt of Good News from the East—Position of
Prince Albert towards the State—Discretion of his Private Life—Extent of his Labours—
Colonisation in New Zealand and New South Wales 111

CHAPTER VIII

THE ADMINISTRATION OF SIR ROBERT PEEL.

Renewed Popularity of the Queen—Services of Prince Albert—A Volunteer Poet Laureate—Birth
of the Princess Alice—The Whig Deficit, and how Sir Robert Peel Dealt with It—The Income
Tax, and Reduction of Duties—The Sliding Scale—Advance of Free Trade Principles—
Assassination of Mr. Drummond—The Question of Criminal Insanity—Sir Robert Peel and Mr.
Cobden—Disturbances in South Wales: “Rebecca” and her Daughters—Condition of Women
in Mines and Collieries—Lord Ashley and the Factories Act—Opinion of the Queen and Prince
Albert on the Qualities of Sir Robert Peel—Levees held by the Prince—The Frescoes for the
Houses of Parliament—Encouragement of Fresco-Painting by the Queen and Prince Albert—
The Summer House in the Gardens of Buckingham Palace—Visit of her Majesty and the Prince
to Louis Philippe at the Château d’Eu—The Duke of Wellington on the Necessity for a Council
of Regency—Designs of France on the Succession to the Spanish Throne—Dishonest
Engagement of the French King—English Opinion completely Misled—Royal Visits to
Belgium, to Cambridge, and to the Midlands—The Prince as a Fox-hunter—Model Farming—
Events in India: Wars in Scinde and Gwalior 131

CHAPTER IX

IRELAND, RUSSIA, AND FRANCE.

O’Connell and the Agitation for Repeal of the Union—Early Life of the Agitator—Character of
his Oratory—Question as to the Purity of his Motives—The “Repeal Year” (1843)—Methods
by which O’Connell worked on Irish Opinion—Open-air Gatherings on the Repeal Question—
Extravagant Speeches of O’Connell—Crowning of the Liberator on the Hill of Tara—
Prohibition of a Proposed Meeting at Clontarf—Arrest of the Chief Agitators—Trial,
Condemnation, and Sentences—The Convictions Annulled by the House of Lords—Release of
O’Connell, and Final Years of his Life—Effect of the Prosecution on the Government of Sir
Robert Peel—Death of Prince Albert’s Father—Visit of the Prince to Saxe-Coburg-Gotha—His
Presents to the Queen on her Birthday (1844)—Visits of the King of Saxony and the Emperor
of Russia to England—Appearance and Manners of the Emperor—Political Objects of
Nicholas in Visiting London—His Designs on Turkey—Memorandum of Agreement between
the Czar and the English Government—Jealousy on the Part of the French—Ministerial Crisis
in the Summer of 1844—Sir James Graham and the Opening of Letters at the Post Office—
Disagreement with France with Respect to the Island of Tahiti—The Pritchard Affair—Queen
Pomare and Queen Victoria—Anxieties of the English Court as to the Maintenance of Peace—
The Ashburton Treaty with the United States 151

CHAPTER X

DAYS OF PEACEFUL DEVELOPMENT AND PROGRESS.

Visit of the Prince of Prussia to England—Christening of Prince Alfred at Windsor Castle— 170
Second Visit to the Highlands in the Autumn of 1844—Louis Philippe in England—His
Reception at Windsor—Interchange of Courtesies between English and French Officers—
Opening of the New Royal Exchange by the Queen—Letters of her Majesty and Prince Albert
on the Occasion—Scientific Progress: the Electric Telegraph, Photography, Lord Rosse’s

Telescope, the Thames Tunnel, and Arctic Exploration—Tractarian Difficulties in the Church—
Purchase of Osborne by the Queen—Visits of her Majesty and the Prince to Stowe and
Strathfieldsaye—Opening of Parliament by the Queen (Feb. 4th, 1845)—Financial Statement
of Sir Robert Peel—Reduction and Abolition of Duties—Acrimonious Debates on the Proposed
Queen’s Colleges in Ireland, and the Increase of the Maynooth Grant—Retirement of Mr.
Gladstone from the Ministry—Admission of Jews to Municipal Offices—Results of Sir Robert
Peel’s Financial Policy—Economy in the Royal Household—Project for Making Prince Albert
King Consort—The Chief Command of the Army

CHAPTER XI

ENGLAND IN 1845.

Borneo and Sir James Brooke—Cession of Labuan to Great Britain—“Constitutionalism” in the
Sandwich Islands—State of the Colonies—Unsuccessful Attack on Madagascar—
Commencement of the Overland Route to India—Decline in the Popularity of Sir Robert Peel
—Rise of Mr. Disraeli and the “Young England” Party—Generous Support of Peel by the
Queen and Prince Albert—Offer of the Garter to Sir Robert, which he Declines—Position of
the Premier towards the Aristocracy—Increasing Weakness of the Government—Dangerous
State of Ireland—Prince Albert on the Political Situation—Visit of the Queen to Belgium and
Prussia—Splendid Reception in the latter Country—Speech of the King of Prussia at Bonn—
The Illuminations at Cologne—Prince Albert and Baron von Humboldt—Reception of the
Royal Visitors in Bavaria, at Coburg, and at Gotha—The Queen at the Native Place of her
Husband—Excursion to the Thuringian Forest—Other Incidents of the German Visit—Second
Visit of the Queen and Prince Albert to Louis Philippe at the Château d’Eu—Duplicity of the
King—Return of the Royal Party to England—Spread of Railway Enterprise in Great Britain—
The Railway Mania and Panic of 1845-6—Increasing Strength of the Free Trade Movement—
The Potato Disease in Ireland—Threatenings of Famine—Sir Robert Peel and Free Trade—
Letter of Lord John Russell to the Electors of the City of London—Ministerial Crisis—Return
of Sir Robert Peel to Power 187

CHAPTER XII

THE MINISTRY OF RENUNCIATION.

The Times Reveals a Secret of State—Mr. Sidney Herbert and Mrs. Norton and the Times—A
Court Scandal—Peel’s Resignation—Lord John Russell’s Failure to Form a Ministry—Peel
Resumes Office—The Ministry and the Queen—The Duke of Wellington and Peel—
Disintegration of the Tory Party—Croker’s Correspondence with Wellington—Peel’s
Instructions to the Quarterly Review—A Betrayed Editor—Peel and the Princess Lieven—
Guizot’s Defence of Peel—The Queen’s Conduct in the Great Crisis—How she Strengthened
the Position of the Crown—Her Popular Sympathies—Why Peel Changed his Policy—The
Potato Rot—Impending Famine—Distress in England—The Campaign of the Free Traders—
Scenes at their Meetings—The Protectionist Agitation and the Agricultural Labourers—
Sufferings of the Poor—The Duke of Norfolk’s Curry Powder—Meeting at Wootton Bassett—
The Queen and the Sufferers 205

CHAPTER XIII

THE FREE TRADE PARLIAMENT.

Opening of Parliament in 1846—The Queen’s Speech—The Debate on the Address—Sir Robert
Peel’s Statement—Mr. Disraeli’s Philippics—Bishop Wilberforce on Peel’s Reception by the
House of Commons—Peel’s Mistake—Lord George Bentinck’s Attack on Prince Albert—The
Queen’s Explanations—The Court and the Peelites—The Corn Bill in the House of Lords—
Lord Stanley’s Political Dinner-Party—The Duke of Wellington and the Peers—Triumph in the
Lords and Defeat in the Commons—Peel’s Coercion Bill for Ireland—A Factious Opposition—
Fall of the Government—Their Policy in India—War in the Punjab—Victories over the Sikhs
—The Oregon Controversy and its Settlement—Lord Aberdeen’s Adroit Diplomacy—
Resignation of the Ministry—The Queen’s Farewell to Peel—Her Suggestion of a Coalition—
Wellington and Cobden Advise Peel to Dissolve—Reasons for his Refusal—The Queen and the
Duke of Wellington—The Duke’s Letter to Lord John Russell—Lyndhurst and Reconstruction
—Disintegration of the Tory Party—The Peelites in Opposition—A Hint from Aristophanes—
Tory Persecution of Peel 220

CHAPTER XIV

THE FIRST RUSSELL ADMINISTRATION.

The Transfer of Ministerial Offices—The Whigs Patronise Mr. Cobden—A Radical in the New
Cabinet—The Peelites Refuse to Take Office—Lord Campbell as Chancellor of the Duchy—
Anecdote of his Installation—Lord John Russell’s Deportment to the Queen—His Modest
Programme—The Abolition of the Sugar Duties—Bishop Wilberforce and Slave-grown Sugar
—Outrages in Ireland—The Whigs become Coercionists—Their Arms Act—Mutiny among
Ministerialists—The Bill Dropped—The Alternative Policy—Relief Works for Ireland—A
Military Scandal—Indiscretion in the Country—Abuse of Corporal Punishment in the Army
—“The Cat” in the House of Commons—The Queen’s Views on Military Punishment—The
Queen and a Deserter’s Death-Warrant—Captain Layard’s Motion—The Duke of Wellington’s
Interference—Restrictions on the Use of the Lash—England and the Colonies—Canada and
Free Trade—Nova Scotia and the Potato Famine—The Halifax, Quebec, and Montreal Railway
—The New Zealand War—The Caffre War—The Expedition to Borneo—End of the Anglo-
Chinese Difficulty—The “Spanish Marriages” and the Treaty of Utrecht—Louis Philippe’s
Intrigues with the Queen Dowager Christina—Secret History of the Conspiracy—M. Guizot’s
Pretext—How the English Minister at Madrid was Deceived—Lord Palmerston’s Indiscreet
Despatch—The Queen’s Cutting Letter to the Queen Marie Amélie—Metternich’s Caustic
Epigram—Prince Albert’s Resentment against the King of the French—End of the Anglo
French Alliance—Fall of the Republic of Cracow 244

CHAPTER XV

HOME LIFE AND SOCIAL EVENTS IN 1846.

Prince Albert and the Home Farm—Royalty and the Windsor Vestry—The New Home at Osborne
—The Birth of the Princess Helena—The Visit of Ibrahim Pasha—A Royal Christening—The
Queen’s Loneliness—Visitors at Osborne—A Cruise in Summer Seas—The “Lop” of the
Channel—In the Channel Islands—The Duke of Cornwall in his Duchy—Exploring the South
Coast—The Queen Acts as the Family Tutor—Her Majesty among the Iron-miners—The
House-warming at Osborne—Baron Stockmar’s Impressions of the Queen—Some German
Visitors—A Dinner-Party at Windsor—The Baroness Bunsen’s Picture of the Scene—The
Royal Visits to Hatfield and Arundel—Social Movements in 1846—Origin of Secularism—Dr.
Hook’s Pamphlet on Education—The Triumphs of Science—Faraday’s Researches—The Use
of Ether in Surgery—Laying of the First Submarine Cable at Portsmouth—Evil Tidings from
Starving Ireland 259

CHAPTER XVI

A DISTRESSFUL COUNTRY.

The Irish Crisis—Famine and Free Trade—Evictions and Imports—Fiscal Policy and Small
Holdings—Shocking Scenes among the Irish People—The Mistake of the Government—Lord
John Russell’s Relief Measure Rejected by his Colleagues—An Autumnal Cabinet Meeting—
Opening of Parliament—The Queen and the Distress—The Remedial Measures of the
Government—Rival Schemes of the Protectionists—Lord George Bentinck’s Railway
Subsidies Bill—A Rival Ministerial Scheme—The Attack on the Bank Act of 1844—The
Currency Controversy—Peel on a Convertible Currency—The Effect of the Railway Mania—
Blaming the Bank—The Education Question—Opposition of Dissenters—Colonisation and
Emigration—Lord Lincoln’s Motion—Is Emigration a Remedy for a Redundant Population?—
The Cabinet and the Ten Hours Bill—Mr. Fielden’s Victory—Opposition of Manufacturers—
Evading the Act—The Budget—The Queen and the Duchy of Lancaster—Lord Campbell and
the Queen—A Famous Duchy Dinner—Privy Councillors at “High Jinks”—Death of Lord
Bessborough—Lord Clarendon Appointed Irish Viceroy—Death of O’Connell—Growing
Weakness of the Cabinet—Prorogation of Parliament—Dissolution—The General Election—
The State of Parties—Appalling Outrages in Ireland—Another Commercial Panic—Suspension
of the Bank Act—The Queen and Sir Robert Peel—Parliament Summoned—A Coercion Bill
for Ireland—Ireland and the Vatican—Lord Palmerston’s Correspondence with Lord Minto—
Denunciations of the Queen’s Colleges—Projected Renewal of Diplomatic Relations with
Rome—Lord Palmerston’s Objections—The Jews in Parliament—New Bishops—The
Hampden Controversy—Baffled Heresy-hunters 272

CHAPTER XVII

THE COURT AND FOREIGN AFFAIRS.

Lord George Bentinck’s Imprudence—French Intrigues in Portugal—England and the Junta—A
Vulgar Suspicion—The Duke of Wellington and National Defences—The Duke’s Threatened
Resignation—The Queen Soothes Him—Famine in the Queen’s Kitchen—Royal Hospitalities
—The Queen’s Country Dance—A German Impostor—Discovery of Chloroform—The Royal
Visit to Cambridge—Prince Albert’s Installation as Chancellor of the University—Awkward
Dons—Anecdotes of the Queen at Cambridge—Royalty and Heraldry—The Visit to Scotland
—Highland Loyalty—A Desolate Retreat—Politics and Sport at Ardverikie—A New Departure
in Foreign Policy—Lord Minto’s Mission—The Queen’s Views—Prince Albert’s Caution to
Lord John Russell—The Queen’s Amusements at Ardverikie—A Regretful Adieu—Home
Again 301

CHAPTER XVIII

REVOLUTION.

At Osborne—Beginnings of Revolution—The Reform Banquets in Paris—Lola Montes and the
King of Bavaria—Downfall of Louis Philippe’s Government—Flight of the King—
Establishment of the Second Republic—The Queen and the Orleans Family—The Chartist
Movement—Its Secret History—Its Leaders—The Queen Retreats to Osborne—The Chartist
Meeting at Kennington—London in Terror—The Duke of Wellington’s Precautions—Abortive
Risings at Bonner’s Fields and in Seven Dials—Riots in the Large Towns—Collapse of
Chartism—Ireland and the “Young Irelanders”—The Rebellion of “ ’48”—The Battle of the
Cabbage Garden—Arrest of Smith O’Brien and the “Young Ireland” Leaders—Austria and
Prussia in Anarchy—Flight of Metternich—The Berlin Mob and the King—Anxiety of the
English Court—The Queen’s Correspondence with her Half-Sister—The Anglo-Spanish
Quarrel—Sir H. Bulwer Expelled from Madrid—The Queen’s Indignation at Lord Palmerston
—Conversation between the Queen and Lord John Russell—Palmerston’s Victory—The
“Three Budget” Session—The Anti-Income-Tax Agitation—Blundering in Finance—“Scenes”
in Parliament—Irish and Colonial Controversies—The Encumbered Estates Act—Repressive
Legislation—Dawn of the Reform Agitation 322

CHAPTER XIX

AT WORK AND PLAY.

The Queen’s Administrative Work—The Condition-of-England Question—The Court and the 357
Working Classes—Royal Plans for Ameliorating the Lot of Labour—Threatened Attacks on the
Queen—The Demagogues Abashed—A Royal-Hearted Speech—The Queen’s Private
Correspondence—A Pension Fund for the Working Classes—Pauperism among Domestic
Servants—Prince Albert’s Relief Plan—The Court at Osborne—Birth and Christening of the

Princess Louise—Removal to Balmoral—The Queen at Kirk—A Royal Geologist—Sir Charles
Lyell’s Anecdotes of the Royal Family—An Accident in the Solent—Prince Albert as a
University Reformer—Death of Lord Melbourne and Lord George Bentinck

CHAPTER XX

DISCONTENTED DEPENDENCIES.

Reaction in England in 1849—Attacks in Parliament on the Queen’s Speech—Gagging
Parliament—The Last Dying Struggle of the Protectionists—Repeal of the Navigation Laws—
The Tory Attack on the Bishops—Protectionist Plans for Reducing Local Taxation—Coercion
for Ireland—Peel’s Generosity to the Whigs Explained—Irish Mendicity and English Grants in
Aid—A Policy of Pauperism and Doles—Small Minds in a Great Crisis—Peel’s
Comprehensive Plan for Relieving Ireland—The Break-down of the Poor Law—The Queen
and the Irish Landlords—Prince Albert’s Project for Reforming the Irish Poor Rate—Scandals
at the Colonial Office—Ceylon—Demerara and Canada—The Loyal Rebels of Canada—Riots
in Montreal—Attacks on Lord Elgin—An Examination and Defence of his Policy—The Test of
Results—“Be Just and Fear Not” 371

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
PAGE
Portrait of the Queen (Woodbury Process) Frontispiece
Distant View of Windsor Castle 1
The Royal Arms ib.
West Front of Kensington Palace 4
King William IV. 5
Claremont 8
Death of the Duke of Kent: Presenting the Commons’ Address of Condolence to the
Duchess at Kensington Palace 9
Queen Caroline’s Drawing-Room, Kensington Palace 12
Queen Adelaide 13
The Duke of Kent 16
The Queen’s First Council (After the Painting by Sir David Wilkie.) 17
Cowes Harbour 18
Gateway of St. James’s Palace 20
Queen Victoria at the Time of her Accession 21
Lord Melbourne 24
Proclamation of the Queen at St. James’s Palace 25
Banquet to the Queen in the Guildhall (November 9, 1837) 29
President Van Buren 33
The Earl of Durham 36
The Throne-Room, Buckingham Palace 37
The Coronation Chair, Westminster Abbey 40
The Coronation of the Queen (After the Painting by Sir George Hayter) 41
The Queen Receiving the Sacrament at her Coronation (After the Painting by C. R.
Leslie, R.A.) To face 44
The Duchess of Kent 45
Newark Castle 48
Mr. Disraeli in his Youth (After the Portrait by Maclise) 49
The Council Chamber, St. James’s Palace 53
Coburg (After a Sketch by Prince Albert) 57
Prince Albert 61
The Marquis of Lansdowne 64
Interior of the Chapel Royal, St. James’s 65

Courtyard of St. James’s Palace 68
Duke Ernest, of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha, Prince Albert’s Brother 69
Marriage of Queen Victoria (After the Painting by Sir George Hayter, R.A.) To face 70
Buckingham Palace: Garden Front 73
Prince Albert’s Music-Room, Buckingham Palace 76
Mr. (afterwards Sir) Rowland Hill 77
Reception of the Queen in Hyde Park after the News of Oxford’s Attempt on her Life 81
Christening of the Princess Royal (After the Painting by C. R. Leslie, R.A.) 85
Richard Cobden 88
Hatfield House 92
The Queen at the Launch of the Trafalgar 93
Sir Robert Peel 96
Magdalen College, Oxford, from the Cherwell 97
John Keble 100
John Henry Newman ib.
St. Mary’s, from the High Street, Oxford 101
King Leopold 104
St. George’s Chapel, Windsor 105
Ambassadors’ Court, St. James’s Palace 108
Costume Ball in Buckingham Palace 109
Eldred Pottinger at Herat 113
The Khyber Pass 116
Sir Robert and Lady Sale 117
The Remnant of an Army: Arrival of Dr. Brydon at Jelalabad (Sketch of the Picture by
Mrs. Butler) 120
Dost Mahomed 121
Akbar Khan ib.
Holyrood Palace, Edinburgh 124
The Queen’s Entry into Edinburgh 125
Lord John Russell (From the Statue by J. E. Boehm, R.A.) 129
Lobby of the House of Commons 133
“Rebecca” Riot in South Wales 136
Lord Ashley (afterwards Earl of Shaftesbury) 137
Westminster Hall 141
The Queen’s Visit to France 144
The Earl of Aberdeen 145
Prince Albert Hunting near Belvoir Castle To face 147

Chatsworth House, from the South-West 148
Lord Gough (After the Portrait by Sir Francis Grant, P.R.A.) 149
Daniel O’Connell 153
The Four Courts, Dublin 156
Old Parliament House, Dublin 157
The Emperor Nicholas 161
Cathedral of St. Isaac, St. Petersburg 164
Joseph Mazzini 165
The Marble Hall, Buckingham Palace 168
The Queen and the Reapers at Blair Castle 169
Reception of Louis Philippe at Windsor Castle 173
Burleigh House, Stamford 176
Osborne, Isle of Wight 180
The Duke of Wellington at Windsor Castle 181
Maynooth College 184
Lord Lyndhurst 185
Favourite Dogs (After Etchings by the Queen) 186
The Overland Route: Scene at Boulak 189
View in Malines 193
The Queen and Prince Albert at the Children’s Fête in Coburg on St. Gregory’s Day 196
The Castle of the Wartburg 200
George Wilson, Chairman of the Anti-Corn-Law League 201
The Houses of Parliament 205
The Irish Famine: Starving Peasants at a Work-house Gate 208
Lord George Bentinck 209
The Deputation from London and Dublin Corporations before the Queen 213
Meeting of Agricultural Labourers at Wootton Bassett 217
Dog’s Head (Drawn and Etched by the Prince Consort) 219
The Queen Opening Parliament in 1846 To face 220
Opening of Parliament in 1846: Arrival of the Royal Procession at the House of Lords 221
St. Stephen’s Cloisters, Westminster Hall 224
Lord Stanley (afterwards Earl of Derby) 225
Sir James Graham 228
View in Oregon: the Columbia River and Mount Hood 229
The British Army Crossing the Sutlej 232
The Battle of Ferozeshah 233

Sir Henry Hardinge 236
The Rival Pages (Reduced Facsimile after Punch) 237
Lord Campbell 240
The Horseguards, from the Parade Ground 241
Lord Macaulay 245
Pardoned: the Queen and the Deserter’s Death-Warrant 249
View in New Zealand: New Plymouth and Mount Egmont 252
View in Canton: the British Consulate 253
The Royal Palace, Madrid 257
Windsor Castle 261
The Queen Visiting a Cornish Iron Mine 264
On the Cornish Coast: Pradanack Point 265
The Municipal Dignitaries of Penryn introduced to the Prince of Wales To face 266
Arundel (After the Picture by Vicat Cole, R.A.) 268
Professor Faraday 269
The Lakes of Killarney 272
Glendalough Valley, Co. Wicklow: View in Glendalough 273
The Irish Famine: Interior of a Peasant’s Hut 276
Lord Brougham (1850) 277
The Bank of England 280
The Queen in the Royal Gallery, St George’s Chapel, 1846 (After the Portrait by G. E.
Dawe) 281
Joseph Hume 284
The Woods Before the Emigrant: Virgin Forest in Canada 285
The Lower Ward, Windsor Castle 288
Lord Campbell’s Audience of the Queen 289
The Custom House, Dublin 292
The Grand Staircase, Buckingham Palace 293
Lord Palmerston 296
Queen’s College, Belfast 297
Prince Metternich 304
King’s College, Cambridge, from the “Backs” 305
St John’s College, Cambridge 308
The Prince-Chancellor of Cambridge University Presenting an Address to the Queen 309
Dr Whewell 312
The Queen in the Woodwardian Museum 313
Falmouth Harbour 316

The Royal Visit to Fingal’s Cave 317
Highland Cottages in Lochaber 321
The Revolution in Paris: Crowds Singing “Mourir pour la Patrie” 324
Landing of Louis Philippe at Newhaven 325
Bridge and Cattle, Newport, Mon. 328
Joseph Sturge 329
Feargus O’Connor 332
The Chartist Demonstration on Kennington Common 333
Chartist Agitation: the Police Force on Bonner’s Fields 336
William Smith O’Brien 337
Charles Gavan Duffy (1848) 340
The Irish Rebellion of 1848: Forging Pikes 341
The Exchange and Frederick’s Bridge, Berlin 344
The King of Prussia Addressing the Berliners 345
The Fountain of Cybele, Madrid 348
Baron Stockmar 349
Sir George Grey 353
From an Etching by the Queen 356
The South-East Corridor, Windsor Castle 357
Thomas Carlyle (After the Medallion by T. Woolner, 1855) 360
Christening of the Princess Louise in Buckingham Palace Chapel 361
View in Lochnagar 364
Professor Anderson at Balmoral 365
Prince Albert Deer-Stalking in the Highlands To face 320
The Old Bridge, Invercauld 368
The Victoria Tower, Westminster Palace 369
Demonstration of Sailors in Favour of the Navigation Laws 372
The Earl of Clarendon, Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland 373
Interior of the House of Commons 376
Lord Elgin, Governor-General of Canada 377
Riots in Montreal: Lord Elgin Stoned by the Mob 380
Riots in Montreal: Burning of the House of Assembly 381
Old French House, Quebec 384

DISTANT VIEW OF WINDSOR CASTLE.

THE
Life and Times of Queen Victoria.

CHAPTER I.

EARLY YEARS OF THE PRINCESS VICTORIA.

A Remarkable Visit to Kensington Palace—Death of King William IV.—Details of his Last Days—
Parliamentary Eulogies on his Character—Progress in the Last Half-Century—Ancestry of Queen
Victoria—Her Descent traced to Odoacer, King of Italy—Saxon Ancestors of her Majesty—Liberal
Views of the Duke of Kent, Father of the Queen—State of the Succession after the Death of the
Princess Charlotte—Marriage of the Duke of Kent, and Birth of the Princess Victoria—Christening at
Kensington Palace—The name “Victoria,” and its Associations—Death of the Duke of Kent—
Kensington Palace in the Seventeenth and Eighteenth Centuries—Early Training of Victoria by her
Mother—Child-life of the Princess—False Rumours of Ill-health—Anecdotes of Juvenile Years—The
Princess and George IV.—Accession of William IV.—The Regency Bill—Prince Leopold and the
Throne of Belgium—Studies of the Princess—Her Life of Retirement—Home Tours in Various Parts
of England—Visit to the Cotton Mills of the Messrs. Strutt at Belper—Reception at Oxford and at
Southampton—Benevolence to an Actress—Her Royal Highness declared of Age on the 24th of May,
1837.

In the dawn of June 20th, 1837, immediately after the death
of King William IV., the Archbishop of Canterbury (Dr.
Howley) and the Lord Chamberlain (the Marquis of
Conyngham) left Windsor for Kensington, to convey the
tidings to his late Majesty’s successor. They reached the
Palace about five o’clock in the morning, and knocked,
THE ROYAL ARMS.
rang, and beat at the doors several times before they could
obtain admission. When at length the porter was aroused,
the visitors were shown into one of the lower rooms, where
a long time passed without any attention being paid them. Growing impatient,
they rang the bell (as we read in the interesting narrative of Miss Wynn), and
desired that the attendant on the Princess Victoria might be sent to inform her
Royal Highness that they requested an audience on business of importance.
Another long delay ensued, and again the bell was rung, that some explanation
might be given of the difficulty which appeared to exist. On the Princess’s
attendant making her appearance, she declared that her Royal Highness was in
so sweet a sleep that she could not venture to disturb her. It was now evident
that stronger measures must be taken, and one of the visitors said, “We have
come on business of State to the Queen, and even her sleep must give way to
that.” The attendant disappeared, and a few minutes afterwards the young
sovereign came into the room in a loose white robe and shawl, her fair hair
falling over her shoulders, her feet in slippers, her eyes dim with tears, but her
aspect perfectly calm and dignified.[1] Lord Melbourne, the Prime Minister, was

at once sent for, and arrived at nine o’clock, when, after an interview of half an
hour with the Queen, he addressed himself to a rapid study of the ceremonials to
be observed at the approaching Privy Council. Some time after, the Lord Mayor
and other members of the Corporation reached the Palace, and the chief
members of the Privy Council soon thronged the rooms.
Although the final illness of the late King had been rather brief, William had
for some time been in declining health, and the nation had only to hope that his
life would be prolonged until his niece, the Princess Victoria, had attained an
age which could be regarded as constituting her majority. This had occurred on
the 24th of the previous month, when the Princess completed her eighteenth
year, which had been declared by Act of Parliament to be sufficient. William IV.
was a man of very moderate abilities; but a certain simplicity and geniality of
character had secured for him the regard and respect of the people, and had
carried him through the revolutionary epoch of the Reform Bill with no great
loss of popularity, even at a time when he was supposed to be unfriendly to the
measure. For the last two years he had ceased to take any interest in the political
tendencies of the day, while discharging the routine duties of his high office with
conscientious regularity. Brought up in the midst of totally different ideas, he
could not, at his time of life, accommodate himself to the flood of novel
principles which had recently set in, and which he was equally unable to accept
and powerless to resist. The result was that, as a well-qualified observer records,
“he submitted to what he could not help, but evidently with a sense of
weariness.”[2] In the previous April he had been distressed by the death of his
eldest daughter, Lady de Lisle, and of the Duchess-Dowager of Saxe-
Meiningen, mother of Queen Adelaide. Great physical prostration ensued
shortly afterwards, and by June it was evident that the end could not be far
distant. His Majesty was attended by the Queen with the most affectionate
devotion; but the weakness steadily increased, and soon reached a fatal
termination.
Owing to the state of the King’s health, the Duke of Wellington proposed to
dispense with the usual Waterloo Banquet at Apsley House; but on the 17th of
June the dying monarch sent a message to the illustrious Field-Marshal, desiring
that the occasion should be observed in the customary manner, and wishing the
host and guests a pleasant day. On the anniversary of the great battle (the 18th),
the Duke transmitted to Windsor, in accordance with the prescribed form, the
banner by the presentation of which he held his estates. Lord Muncaster
presented it to the King, who, raising himself up, grasped the folds of the flag,
and exclaimed, “Ah! that was a glorious day for England!”[3] The eulogies
pronounced in Parliament on the character of the deceased sovereign may have

been somewhat affected by the conventional or official tone inseparable from
such utterances; but they probably contain a fair amount of truth, with no more
than the usual omissions. The disposition of William IV. was certainly superior
to that of his brother George; and the country recognised the difference with the
true instinct of a free people.
The Modern Age, in its most distinctive developments, is almost coeval with
the reign of his successor. It is true that the Railway service had already begun;
but it was still in its infancy when Queen Victoria ascended the throne, and had
not yet effected any great revolution in the sentiments or habits of society. The
Electric Telegraph, though fully born in the brains of scientific speculators, had
received no practical application. Steam and machinery had still to achieve some
of their greatest triumphs. The Postal system of those days seems barbarian to
our modern eyes. The Newspaper Press was an insignificant force compared
with what it is at the present day. Education, in the popular sense, hardly existed.
Nation with nation held but little intercourse, and the prejudices of Englishmen
were scarcely less gross than they had been in the days of Hogarth. Manners
were far more coarse and brutal than they are now; the laws were more
complicated and uncertain; social order was less secure; the arts had not attained
so wide and general a culture; medicine, surgery, chemistry, geology, and other
sciences, were less cultivated; taste was less diffused and less instructed; the
luxuries, and even the comforts, of domestic life were almost unknown to the
poorer classes; and political power was held by only a small proportion of the
community. The England of 1837 was so different from the England we now
behold, that the “Pickwick Papers,” belonging to that date, require explanatory
notes for the benefit of a younger generation. The history of these vast changes
—in which the personal character and influence of her Majesty have had no
small share—must be of the deepest interest to all thinking men; and it is this
history which we propose to relate.
Alexandrina Victoria, Queen of Great Britain and Ireland, and Empress of
India, was born at Kensington Palace on the 24th of May, 1819. She is the
daughter of Edward, Duke of Kent, fourth son of King George III.; and her
mother was Victoria Mary Louisa, daughter of his Serene Highness Francis,
Duke of Saxe-Coburg-Saalfeld. The Duke of Kent was the second husband of
this lady, who in 1802 had married Charles Louis, Prince of

WEST FRONT OF KENSINGTON PALACE.
Leiningen—an ill-assorted match, productive of no happiness. The second
marriage took place in 1818; but the Duke of Kent died in less than two years.
Her Majesty’s descent is very illustrious. It may be traced (conjecturally, at
least) up to Odoacer, a warlike chief of the Heruli, who, after defeating the
forces of Romulus Augustulus, the last Roman Emperor of the West, in the year
476 of the Christian era, disputed the kingdom of Italy with Theodoric the
Ostrogoth. One of the supposed descendants of Odoacer was Boniface, Count of
Lucca and Duke of Tuscany, who lived in the early part of the ninth century, and
from whom sprang Alberto Azzo II., Marquis of Italy and Lord of Este, who, in
the first half of the eleventh century, married Cunegonda, of the House of
Guelph, by whom he had Guelph, Duke of Bavaria, the ancestor of the House of
Brunswick, and consequently of the present Royal Family of Great Britain, who
are called Este-Guelphs. According to some accounts, however, the Guelphs are
derived from a younger brother of Odoacer, whose son, Olfigandus, held a
command in the army of Belisarius. But in truth

KING WILLIAM IV.
these matters lie beyond verification, and are interesting only as affording a
shadowy link between the present and the past.
One of the most famous ancestors of the Duchess of Kent, and therefore of
Queen Victoria herself, was Frederick the Wise, Elector of Saxony in the early
years of the sixteenth century, who ranks among the first converts to
Protestantism, and who befriended Luther when that great reformer stood in
peril of his life. The Prince Consort was likewise descended from the same
family, and the Queen’s children are thus doubly connected with one of the most
distinguished German houses of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. In later
times, various members of the Saxon family have shown their prowess as
warriors, or their capacity as rulers; but the father of the Duchess of Kent, the
Duke of Saxe-Coburg-Saalfeld, was a man of pacific inclinations and retiring
habits, with a taste for the fine arts. The Duke of Kent was remarkable as a
generous supporter of popular government—even to an extreme bordering on
democratic ideas—at a time when the Court and the ruling classes were
fanatically enthusiastic on the Tory side. Tall and striking in aspect, trained to
military service, irreproachable in private life, and exact in all his business
habits, the Duke of Kent inherited the manly and sedate qualities of his father,
George III., while superadding to them a breadth of intellect to which the King
himself could advance no claim. As a commander in the British army, his Royal

Highness incurred some temporary disfavour by his strictness as a
disciplinarian; but this was afterwards removed by the liberal character of his
political views. At a banquet, during which he replied to the toast of “The Junior
Members of the Royal Family,” he said:—“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 delegated only 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.”
Like some of the other Royal Princes, the Duke of Kent refrained from
marriage until after the death of the Princess Charlotte, on the 6th of November,
1817. That ill-fated lady—the only child of the Prince Regent, afterwards
George IV.—had been married, on the 2nd of May, 1816, to Prince Leopold,
third son of the Duke of Saxe-Coburg, and brother of the Princess who was
subsequently united to the Duke of Kent, and became the mother of our Queen.
Leopold (who, several years later, was chosen King of the Belgians) was
distinguished, from his earliest maturity to his latest days, by high character and
distinguished abilities; and the English people hoped much from a union which
seemed to promise so fairly. But, unhappily, the Princess Charlotte died in
childbed; and, as the infant was still-born, the succession to the throne was left
in a very precarious state. Accordingly, in the following year (1818), the Duke
of Clarence, third son of George III., and afterwards William IV., the Duke of
Kent, fourth son, and the Duke of Cambridge, seventh son, contracted nuptial
alliances; but that of the Duke of Clarence, the elder brother of the Duke of
Kent, was unattended by any issue that survived, so that the Princess Victoria
soon became heiress-presumptive to the crown of Great Britain.
For some time after their marriage, the Duke and Duchess of Kent resided
abroad, chiefly from motives of economy, the allowance of the former being
restricted within narrow limits by the servile Parliament of that day, owing to his
political independence. In view, however, of an expected event, the Royal
couple returned to England in the latter part of April, 1819, so that their child
should be “born a Briton;” and, as we have said, the future Queen of England
drew her first breath on the 24th of May. The Duke of Kent had been long
estranged from his brother, the Prince Regent; but a reconciliation took place
shortly after the birth of the Princess Victoria. The infant was christened on the
24th of June at Kensington Palace, where she had been born; on which occasion,

the gold font was brought from the Tower, and the draperies were removed from
the Chapel Royal, St. James’s. Chief among the sponsors were the Prince
Regent and the Emperor Alexander of Russia, the latter represented by the Duke
of York. It was in compliment to the Czar that the infant Princess received
Alexandrina as her first name. In subsequent years, however, this Russianised
Greek appellation was wisely abandoned, as unfamiliar and unwelcome to
English ears, and the far nobler-sounding “Victoria” took its place. The second
name, now famous throughout the world, is of course pure Latin, and no more
native to our race than Alexandrina. But in a certain sense we are all Latins—we
of the West of Europe; and the accents of the Imperial tongue are familiar to our
ears. The meaning and sound of “Victoria,” moreover, are strikingly appropriate
to the sovereign of a great Empire; and the omen has, on the whole, been
happily fulfilled under the sceptre of her Majesty, not merely in the triumphs of
war, but also in the victories of peace.
It is not generally known, that, so far as can be inferred from imperfect and
obscure records, a monarch bearing the name of Victoria once before held sway
in Britain. During the general weakness of the Roman Empire in the second half
of the third century, several of the provinces detached themselves from the
central authority, and for a while established separate governments. Spain, Gaul,
and Britain formed a western realm of immense extent, the capital of which was
at Trèves, on the Moselle, then a city of Gallia Belgica; and the sovereignty of
this varied region passed in time to an ambitious and energetic woman named
Victoria. She is mentioned in the great work of Gibbon; yet little is known of her
acts or character. It is probable that she was a resolute and capable despot; but
she appears in history as a name, and little else.
For the brief remainder of his life, the Duke of Kent dwelt principally at
Claremont, which, but a short time before, had been the residence of the
Princess Charlotte and Prince Leopold, and which was rendered sadly
memorable by the death of the former. But the unusually severe winter of 1819-
20 induced the Duke and Duchess to visit Sidmouth, for the sake of the mild
climate of Southern Devonshire. At Salisbury Cathedral, to which he made an
excursion during the frosty weather, the Duke caught a slight cold, which, after
his return to Sidmouth, became serious, owing, it would seem, to neglect and
imprudence. According to the medical custom of those days, the patient was
copiously bled, and not improbably owed his death to the exhaustion thus
occasioned. He expired on the 23rd of January, 1820, in his fifty-third year; and
so small were his means that he left the Duchess and the Princess totally devoid
of maintenance. Such was the statement made long afterwards by Leopold of
Saxe-Coburg, who was with his sister during the days of her trial and

bereavement. Soon after the fatal event, the Prince accompanied the widowed
lady to London, where addresses of condolence were voted by both Houses of
Parliament. The address of the Commons was presented by Lords Morpeth and
Clive, when the Duchess of Kent

CLAREMONT.
appeared with the infant Princess in her arms. The scene was one of the
chambers in Kensington Palace; and that historic building can scarcely have
witnessed a more affecting interview.
The edifice in which Queen Victoria passed most of her early years, and
which yet attracts the interest both of Englishmen and Americans, dates, as a
palace, from the time of William III., though, at a rather earlier period, the
Finches, Earls of Nottingham, had a mansion on the same spot, of which a small
portion is believed to be still existent. The second Earl of Nottingham sold the
house and grounds to the illustrious Dutchman who came to rescue us from the
Pope and the Stuarts; and his Majesty caused additions to be made to the
building by the greatest English architect of that time—Sir Christopher Wren.
Successive

DEATH OF THE DUKE OF KENT: PRESENTING THE
COMMONS’ ADDRESS OF CONDOLENCE TO THE
DUCHESS AT KENSINGTON PALACE. (See p. 8.)
sovereigns, down to George II., still further enlarged the domicile and the
grounds; and, for sixty years of the eighteenth century, Kensington Palace was
the most brilliant and courtly place in London. All the nobles, statesmen, wits,
and beauties of the age assembled in its saloons, or paraded in its gardens. Many
are the anecdotes (scandalous and otherwise) connected with this royal home;
but there are pleasanter associations too. Tickell, one of the minor literati of the
period which we associate with Queen Anne, though it extended into the reigns
of George I. and his successor, wrote a pretty fairy tale, in verse, in connection
with Kensington Gardens; and Pope may have studied in that courtly enclosure
the belles and fops of his “Rape of the Lock.” In the Palace itself, Death was a
frequent visitor, as he must be in houses which survive several generations.

William III. and Queen Mary, Queen Anne, Prince George of Denmark, and
King George II., all died within its walls; and then came an eclipse. The sedate
and formal residence, with its stately gardens, fell out of favour with George III.,
though it is not easy to say why, since his own character inclined him to the
formal and sedate. All the glancing lights of wit and beauty faded from its
rooms; and, by the earlier years of the present century, the Palace had acquired
the sombre and somewhat depressing character inseparable from all old
buildings which have seen better days, and from which the laughter and the life
of earlier times have passed away.
Such were the surroundings amongst which the Princess Victoria was
brought up. They were far from inspiriting; yet they may have helped to form
the character of the future Queen, and to give to it an element of gravity, not
unbecoming the sovereign of countless myriads. The walls of the apartments
were adorned with pictures belonging chiefly to the Byzantine and early
German schools; and these probably did much in creating a taste for art. The
training of the young Princess was conducted by her mother—a task for which
she was admirably qualified. When the Prince of Leiningen died, in 1814, his
widow, afterwards the Duchess of Kent, was left the guardian of her young sons,
and the ruler of their territory until they came of age. These duties she had
performed in a manner the most exemplary; and she afterwards showed equal
good sense in the education of the Princess Victoria. The child was taught from
her earliest years to rely on exercise and temperance as the best promoters of
health; to devote a reasonable amount of time to riding and sailing; to be
economical, yet charitable; and, while observing a courteous demeanour
towards her inferiors, to keep aloof from the evil influence of parasites. In early
years, it was rather the moral than the mental nature of the Princess that was
cultivated. The Dowager-Duchess of Coburg wisely wrote to her daughter, in
1823, that it would be better not to force book-knowledge too soon on one so
young; and this advice appears to have been followed.
As her Royal Highness grew up, however, she was well grounded in
languages, music, and such branches of science as were then thought suitable to
ladies. Her general education was afterwards entrusted to the Duchess of
Northumberland, wife of the third Duke; and the Princess speedily developed
many charming qualities. Living for the most part in retirement, she was but
little known to the outer world; but her affability made an excellent impression
on all with whom she came in contact. Her character was to some extent
influenced by the great philanthropist, William Wilberforce, whom she saw very
frequently. Several pleasing anecdotes are related of her charity and kindness;
and it is said that in her visits to Ramsgate she was a great favourite with the

bathing-women and other characteristic frequenters of the sands. When, a little
later in life, it became nearly certain that she would succeed to the throne, owing
to the childlessness of her father’s elder brothers, the Princess emerged more
into public view, and took her rides and walks in places where she could be
generally seen. It is said that, for some years, George IV. treated his sister-in-law
and her infant with marked coldness; but the Duke and Duchess of Clarence—
whose own disappointments, in the failure of offspring, might have furnished
some slight excuse for neglect—showed much kindness to the Duchess of Kent
and the Princess Victoria. This cordial sentiment continued after the accession of
William IV., and the Queen never forgot, in later days, the respect and affection
which she owed to Adelaide.
The early years of the Princess were passed under healthful conditions, and
resulted in the formation of a strong constitution. Nevertheless, the public were
disquieted by rumours to the effect that the daughter of the Duke of Kent would
never attain her majority, or that, at any rate, if she lived to marry, she would
never become the mother of a family. In proportion as these statements were
believed, fears arose that the succession would pass to the Duke of Cumberland
—a prince very generally disliked for his arrogance, and for faults and vices
which may perhaps have been exaggerated by popular hatred. The connection
between the kingdoms of Great Britain and Hanover—which would have been
perpetuated by the succession of any one of the Princes, but which the existence
of the Salic Law in the latter State rendered incompatible with the accession of a
female sovereign in England—was another contingency which the people of this
country regarded with the utmost distaste. For these reasons, the false reports
concerning the Princess’s health created no little agitation. But it soon came to
the public knowledge that the unwelcome tidings were wholly false; and it was
evident, from her frequent appearances in the streets and parks, that the heiress-
apparent to the British throne was not likely to die prematurely.
The studies of the Princess were pursued with a fair amount of diligence,
though her Royal Highness would occasionally show her independence by
refusing to be too closely bound by rules. On one occasion, she objected to that
dull, mechanical practising of notes which the young learner of the pianoforte
has perforce to undergo. She was told that this was necessary before she could
become mistress of the instrument. “What would you think of me,” she asked,
“if I became mistress at once?” She was told that that would be impossible;
there was no royal road to music. “Oh, there is no royal road to music, eh?”
repeated the Princess. “No royal road? And I am not mistress of my pianoforte?
But I will be, I assure you; and the royal road is this”—whereupon she closed
the piano, locked it, and took out the key. “There!” she continued, “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.” This, however, was spoken

QUEEN CAROLINE’S DRAWING-ROOM, KENSINGTON
PALACE.
more out of a sense of fun than from any spirit of opposition; for, immediately
afterwards, her Royal Highness resumed the interrupted lesson.
The readiness to admit a fault was amusingly shown by a little incident
which occurred during a visit to the seat of Earl Fitzwilliam. The royal party
were walking in the grounds, when the Princess ran on in advance. One of the
under-gardeners pointed out that, owing to recent heavy rains, a certain walk
was very slippery, or, as he expressed it, using a local term, “very slape.”
“Slape! slape!” exclaimed the Princess, in the style of quick reiteration which
characterised the utterance of her grandfather, George III.; “and pray what is
‘slape’?” The requisite explanation was given; but the little lady proceeded
down the path, despite all warning, and speedily fell to the ground. Seeing what
had happened, Earl Fitzwilliam called out, “Now your Royal Highness has an
explanation of the term ‘slape,’ both theoretically and practically.” “Yes, my
lord,” she replied, “I think I have. I shall never forget the word ‘slape.’ ”
Another time, she persisted in playing with a dog against which she had been
cautioned. The animal made a snap at her hand; and when her cautioner
expressed his fears that she had been bitten, she replied, “Oh, thank you! thank
you! You’re right, and I am wrong; but he didn’t bite me—he only warned me. I
shall be careful in future.”[4]
An additional grant of £6,000 a year was made to the Duchess of Kent in the

QUEEN ADELAIDE.
early summer of 1825, in order that the Princess Victoria, then six years of age,
might be enabled to live more in accordance with her rank and prospects. After
this period, the King (George IV.) behaved with greater kindness to his sister-in-
law and niece. The latter, however, was not seen much at court during the
remainder of that monarch’s reign; indeed, her time was mainly occupied by the
work of education. It was in 1830—shortly after the death of George IV.—that
the Duchess of Northumberland was appointed, at the suggestion of the new
King, to the office of governess to the Princess; and under her judicious care
considerable progress was soon made. The accession of William IV. to the
throne, on the 26th of June, 1830, placed the Princess Victoria in direct
succession to the British Crown, as the Duke of York had died on the 5th of
January, 1827. It was therefore thought advisable to make provision for the
various contingencies of the future; and accordingly, towards the close of the
year, a Regency Bill was introduced into Parliament, which provided that Queen
Adelaide, in the event of her giving birth to a posthumous child, should be the
guardian of such child during its minority, and also Regent of the kingdom. If
that event did not occur, the Duchess of Kent was to be Regent during the
minority of her daughter, the Princess Victoria, who was not to marry, while a
minor, without the consent of the King, or, if he died, without the consent of
both Houses of Parliament.
During these early years, Prince Leopold, brother of the Duchess of Kent,
had acted the part of a father to the young Princess; but he was now removed to
a different scene and other duties. A revolution broke out at Brussels on the 25th
of August, 1830, with the ultimate result that Belgium was separated from the
Kingdom of the Netherlands, of which, since 1814, it had formed a part. On the
12th of July, 1831, Leopold was elected King of the new nationality, and a week
later entered the capital. He had shortly before been designated by the Great

Powers to the sovereignty of Greece, which had just achieved its independence
of Turkey; but he declined that perilous and doubtful honour. As the liberal and
enlightened ruler of the Belgians, however, he acquired great and deserved
distinction until his death on the 10th of December, 1865. The assumption of
regal powers on the Continent removed Leopold from constant association with
his niece; but the nearness of Brussels enabled him to make frequent visits to
England, and in after years the Queen often consulted him on difficult matters of
State policy. His decease was in many respects a serious affliction to the
sovereign of this realm.
Under the general direction of the Duchess of Northumberland, the
instruction of the Princess was conducted by various gentlemen of high repute in
their several attainments. She made considerable progress in Latin; from Mr.
Amos she received the elements of Constitutional Government as it exists in
England; and Westall, the painter, taught her the lighter graces of drawing.
Music was now studied with assiduity, and the future Queen revealed at an early
age that passion for a noble art which has distinguished her to the present day.
Shortly after the accession of William IV., the health of the Princess underwent
some decline, due in part to the distracting gaieties to which she had been
introduced since the change of reign. This failure of health appears to have been
the reason why her Royal Highness and the Duchess of Kent were absent from
the coronation of King William, on the 8th of September, 1831, though the
circumstance gave occasion at the time to many sinister remarks, as if the favour
of the new monarch had been suddenly withdrawn from his niece. Such,
however, was not the case. The Princess was treated with the consideration
befitting her rank; and, on the 24th of May, 1831, when she completed her
twelfth year, Queen Adelaide gave a juvenile ball in her honour, the
magnificence of which made a deep impression on the mind of the principal
guest. It is evident, therefore, that the King and Queen retained their old
affection for the Princess; but the Duchess of Northumberland saw that so much
excitement was having a prejudicial effect on the health of her pupil, and she
accordingly advised absence from court, and from the fatigue and turmoil of a
coronation ceremony. Only a month before, the King had recommended to
Parliament an increased allowance for the Princess; in consequence of which, an
additional income of £10,000 a year, for her Royal Highness’s maintenance and
education, was granted by the national representatives. The Princess, however,
was still much sequestered; and it may be that the Court of William IV., though
better than that of his brother, was not well suited to a young girl whose mother
considered her purity more than anything else.

It was about this period that Southey, the poet, historian, and critic, being one
morning at Kensington Palace, was admitted to an interview with the Princess,
who expressed to him the great pleasure she had derived both from his poetry
and his prose, especially from the “Life of Nelson,” which she declared she had
read half a dozen times over. At the time of the coronation, the Duchess of Kent
and her daughter were staying in the Isle of Wight, from which they afterwards
proceeded to Worthing and Malvern. The Princess was a great admirer of
ecclesiastical architecture and music, and she frequently visited such cathedral
cities as Worcester, Hereford, and Chester. She was also entertained by the
principal members of the nobility at their country seats, and thus acquired a
knowledge of the semi-feudal state which still distinguishes the lives of our
aristocracy. A very extensive home-tour was made in 1832, when, amongst other
interesting events, the royal party visited the cotton-mills of the Messrs. Strutt at
Belper, in Derbyshire. By means of a model, Mr. James Strutt explained to the
Princess the various processes of cotton-spinning, and a great impression was
produced by this exposition of a most important manufacture. It was a very
felicitous thought to take her Royal Highness to one of those great seats of
industry to which England owes so much, and to show her how varied,
complicated, and far-reaching were the interests over which, in the maturity of
time, she was to bear sway. From this visit, in all probability, may be dated the
Queen’s intelligent appreciation of the commercial and manufacturing greatness
of her Empire, which brings unparalleled wealth into the land, circulates wages
amongst innumerable labourers, and furnishes a counterpoise to the
preponderance of hereditary power. In 1856, the Queen conferred the dignity of
a peerage, with the title of Baron Belper, on the son of Mr. James Strutt, who
had conducted her over the factory four-and-twenty years earlier.
Before the conclusion of the royal tour, the Princess and her mother visited
Oxford, where they were presented with an address in the Sheldonian Theatre by
the Vice-Chancellor. In her reply, the Duchess of Kent said:—“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 ensure, 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.”

THE DUKE OF KENT.
Their Royal Highnesses returned to Kensington on the 9th of November,
1832, and in the following year confined themselves to the south coast of
England. The most memorable circumstance of this trip was one of those
ceremonials in which the Queen has since so often taken part. While the
Duchess of Kent and her daughter were residing at East Cowes, in the Isle of
Wight, they attended the opening of the new landing-pier at Southampton, then
beginning to acquire importance as a great southern port. In Southampton

THE QUEEN’S FIRST COUNCIL. (After the Painting by Sir David Wilkie). (See p. 19.)
Water, the Royal yacht, which had been towed from Cowes by a steamer,
was met by a deputation from the corporation of the town, the members of
which were stationed on board an eight-oared barge, with one of the town-
sergeants bearing a silver oar. To the address of this deputation, the Duchess of
Kent replied that she wished her daughter to become attached, at an early age, to
works of utility—an attachment which, in later life, her Majesty has exhibited
on many interesting occasions. The distinguished visitors were then rowed
ashore, and entertained at luncheon; after which, the Duchess of Kent signified
her pleasure that the new pier should be called the Royal Pier.
In July, 1834, the Princess Victoria was confirmed by the Archbishop of
Canterbury (Dr. Howley) in the Chapel Royal, St. James’s. The remainder of the
year was distinguished by no very remarkable events; but a little incident
occurring at Tunbridge Wells gives a pleasing idea of the young Princess’s
benevolence. The husband of an actress employed at the town theatre died under
circumstances of poverty, leaving his wife on the eve of her confinement.
Distressed at what she heard, the Princess obtained £10 from her mother, added
an equal sum from her own resources, and personally carried the amount to the
sufferer. After the accession of her Majesty to the throne, she conferred on the
actress an annuity of £40 for the remainder of her life. The years 1835 and 1836
passed very quietly; but 1837 was destined to be a date of great importance. On

the 24th of May, the Princess completed her eighteenth year, and was declared
legally of age, according to the provisions of the Act of Parliament to which
reference has before been made. The day was kept as a general holiday:
Kensington was especially festive, and a serenade to the Princess was performed
under the Palace windows at seven o’clock in the evening. Among the numerous
birthday presents was a magnificent pianoforte from the King. Within a month
from that time, William IV. had breathed his last.

COWES HARBOUR.

CHAPTER II.

EARLY EVENTS OF THE NEW REIGN.

First Council of the Queen—Her Address to the Assembled Dignitaries—Admirable Demeanour of the
young Sovereign—Proclamation of Queen Victoria—Condition of the Empire at the Time of her
Accession—Character of Lord Melbourne, the Prime Minister—His Training of the Queen in
Constitutional Principles—Question of the Royal Prerogative and the choosing of the Ministry—
Removal of the Queen to Buckingham Palace—First Levee—Her Majesty’s Speech on the
Dissolution of Parliament—Amelioration of the Criminal Laws—Results of the General Election—
Meeting of the New Legislature—The Civil List fixed—Relations of the Queen towards the Duchess
of Kent—Daily Life of her Majesty—Royal Visit to the City—Insurrection in the Two Canadas—
Measures of the Government, and Suppression of the Revolt—The Melbourne Administration and
Lord Durham—Reform of the Canadian Constitution.

We now resume our narrative of what happened on the first day of the new
reign—the 20th of June, 1837. At eleven o’clock in the forenoon—the
appointed hour—Queen Victoria, attended by the chief officers of the
household, entered the Council Chamber, and seated herself on a throne which
had been placed there. The Lord Chancellor (Cottenham) then administered the
customary oath taken by the sovereigns of England on their accession, in
which they promise to govern according to the laws. The Princes, Peers, Privy
Councillors, and Cabinet Ministers, next took the oaths of allegiance and
supremacy, kneeling before the throne; and the first name on the list was that
of Ernest, King of Hanover, known to Englishmen as the Duke of Cumberland.
The Queen caused these distinguished persons to be sworn in as members of
the Council, and the Cabinet Ministers, having surrendered their seals of office,
immediately received them back from her Majesty, and kissed her hand on
their reappointment. Having ordered the necessary alterations in the official
stamps and form of prayer, the Council drew up and signed the Proclamation
of her Majesty’s accession, which was publicly read on the following day. But
one of the principal incidents of that memorable Council was the reading by
the Queen (previously to the surrender of the seals by the Ministers, and their
reappointment) of an address which ran as follows:—
“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

GATEWAY OF ST. JAMES’S
PALACE
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.”
The demeanour of the Queen on this difficult and agitating occasion is
described as composed and dignified. She received the homage of the nobility
without any undue excitement, and her delivery of the address was an
admirable specimen of the clear and impressive reading to which her Majesty
has since accustomed the public. Occasionally she glanced towards Lord
Melbourne for guidance; but this occurred very seldom, and for the most part

her self-possession was extraordinary. The quietude of manner was now and
then broken by touches of natural feeling which moved the hearts of all
present. Her Majesty was particularly considerate to the Royal Dukes, her
uncles; and when the Duke of Sussex (who was infirm) presented himself to
take the

QUEEN VICTORIA AT THE TIME OF HER
ACCESSION.
oath of allegiance, and was about to kneel, she anticipated his action, kissed his
cheek, and said, with great tenderness of tone and gesture, “Do not kneel, my
uncle, for I am still Victoria, your niece.”
On the whole, that day was the most memorable in the Queen’s life, and its
effects were seen next morning in an aspect of pallor and fatigue. An
inexperienced girl, only just eighteen, had been invested with a power which
carried with it the gravest responsibilities towards innumerable millions; and
she had for the first time to discharge the duties of the State—duties of which
she could have had no practical knowledge until then—under the affliction of a
personal loss, for there can be no doubt that she was attached to her uncle, the
late King. The lonely height of regal splendour was never more sharply or
intensely felt than by that young Princess in the first hours of her grandeur and
her burden. It is true that the death of King William was not unexpected, and
that his niece had for some years been familiarised with the fact that, in the

ordinary course of nature, she would one day succeed to the crown. But death
is always surprising when it comes, and the new monarch had seen little of the
ceremonial life of courts before her elevation to the throne. Owing to the
temporary failure of health to which we have alluded, the Princess had not
been made fully aware of her destiny until after she had entered her twelfth
year. She had probably thought but little of the future in the intervening time;
and at eighteen she was called upon to administer the affairs of a vast Empire,
full of varied races, of complex interests, and of unsettled problems.
The new sovereign was proclaimed under the title of “Alexandrina
Victoria”; but the first name has not been officially used since that day. The
appearance of the Queen at one of the windows of St. James’s Palace, on the
morning of June 21st, was greeted with immense enthusiasm by a vast crowd
of people who had assembled to hear the Proclamation read, but who did not
anticipate that the sovereign would present herself. At ten o’clock, the guns in
the Park fired a salute, and immediately afterwards her Majesty stood
conspicuously before her subjects. Dressed very simply in deep mourning, her
fair hair and clear complexion came out the more effectively for their black
surroundings. With visible emotion, and with her face bathed in tears, she
listened to the reading of the Proclamation, supported by Lord Melbourne on
the one side, and by Lord Lansdowne on the other, both dressed in court
costume; while close at hand was the Duchess of Kent. The court-yard of the
Palace was filled with a brilliant assemblage of high functionaries, consisting
of Garter King-at-Arms, heralds and pursuivants, officers-of-arms on
horseback, sergeants-at-arms, the sergeant-trumpeter, the Knights-Marshal and
their men, the Duke of Norfolk as Earl-Marshal of England, and others—all
clad in the picturesque dresses and wearing the insignia of their offices. At the
conclusion of the Proclamation the Queen threw herself into the arms of her
mother, and gave free vent to her feelings, while the band played the National
Anthem, the Park and Tower guns discharged their salvos, and the spectators
burst into repeated acclamations.
In some respects, the accession of Queen Victoria took place at a fortunate
time. England was at peace with all foreign Powers; her colonies were
undisturbed, with the exception of Canada, where some long-seated
discontents were on the eve of breaking out into a rebellion which for a while
proved formidable; and, about three years before, slavery had ceased in all
British possessions. At home, several of the more difficult questions of politics
and statecraft had been settled, either permanently or for a time, in the two
preceding reigns; so that large sections of the people, formerly disloyal, or at

least unfriendly to the existing order, were well disposed towards a form of
government which no longer appeared in the light of an oppression. The repeal
of the Test and Corporation Acts, in 1828, had conciliated the Dissenters; the
removal of Roman Catholic disabilities, in 1829, had abolished one of the
grievances of Ireland. By the Reform Bill of 1832—the temporary defeat of
which had very nearly plunged the country into revolution—the middle classes
had obtained a considerable accession of political power. The sanguinary
rigour of the criminal laws had been partially mitigated; and, in September,
1835, an Act was passed for reforming the government of municipal
corporations. The great Constitutional question, touching on the relation of the
sovereign towards the Cabinet, had been virtually settled, during the same year,
in harmony with those Parliamentary claims which were at any rate in
accordance with the current of popular feeling. France—the great hotbed of
revolution—was comparatively tranquil; and nothing in the general state of the
world betokened the advent of any serious troubles.
Lord Melbourne, who held the office of Prime Minister at the time of the
Queen’s accession, was an easy-tempered man of the world, well versed in
political affairs, but possessed of little power as a speaker, and distinguished
rather for tact than high statesmanship. He had entered public life in 1805 as an
adherent of Charles James Fox, and therefore as a Whig of the most
pronounced type; it was as leader of the Whigs that he now held power; but in
the latter part of the reign of George IV. he had taken office under the
Conservative Administrations of Mr. Canning, Lord Goderich, and the Duke of
Wellington. In truth, he cared more for government than for legislation, and
was therefore well disposed to join any set of politicians who seemed capable
of conducting the affairs of the country with firmness and sense. Still, his most
natural and permanent inclinations were towards a moderate Whiggism, very
different, however, from the quasi-Radicalism of Fox, which he had adopted in
the days of his youth. In 1830 he accepted the seals of the Home Office in the
Government of Earl Grey; and this brought him back to the old connection. On
the retirement of Lord Grey, in July, 1834, he succeeded to the Premiership;
but in the following November the King dismissed the Ministry without any
reference to the wishes of Parliament, and placed the Government in the hands
of Sir Robert Peel. This was the occasion of that Constitutional struggle which,
in consequence of the House of Commons gaining the day, has fixed the later
practice in accordance with what are usually regarded as popular principles. Sir
Robert Peel encountered so much opposition that, in April, 1835, he was

compelled to resign, and Lord Melbourne for the second time became First
Lord of the Treasury.
It was from this versatile, well-informed, but not very profound statesman
that her Majesty received her first practical instructions in the theory and
working of the British Constitution. That Lord Melbourne discharged his office
with ability, devotion, and conscientiousness, is generally admitted; but it may
be questioned whether he did not, however unintentionally, give something of
a party bias to her Majesty’s conceptions of policy, and whether his teachings
did not too much depress the regal power in England. It is in truth only within
the present reign that it has come to be a fixed principle in English affairs that
the Ministers for the time being are to be chosen from the majority of the

LORD MELBOURNE.
House of Commons, without the least regard to the sovereign’s desires.
Melbourne himself, as we have seen, suffered from William’s assertion of his
independence in the matter of choosing his Ministers; and it was perhaps not
unnatural that he should wish to establish a contrary practice, by instilling into
the mind of his illustrious pupil the conviction that absolute submission to the
Parliamentary majority (or rather to the majority in the Lower House) was the
only Constitutional course. But in fact that very course was an innovation; and
to Lord Melbourne, more than to any other man, is the innovation attributable.
There had undoubtedly been a movement in this direction since the latter end
of the seventeenth century; but it had been occasional rather

PROCLAMATION OF THE QUEEN AT ST. JAMES’S PALACE.
(See p. 22.)
than continuous, and was frequently checked by reactions towards the other
practice.
From an early date in the Middle Ages, the King of England was assisted in
the task of governing by the Privy Council, the members of which body did
not, at the utmost, much exceed twelve. All were appointed by the sovereign,
and each was removable at his pleasure. In process of time, the number of
councillors became so great that their capacity for the despatch of business was
seriously impaired; and in 1679 Charles II. limited the assembly to thirty
members, of whom fifteen were to be the principal officers of State. Those
functionaries had already assumed, under the name of the “Cabinet,” a species

of separate existence, though only as a part of the larger body to which they
belonged. It was not until shortly after the Restoration that this interior council
acquired much importance; and by many it was regarded as unconstitutional
and dangerous. Even at the present day, the Cabinet, in the striking language of
Macaulay, “still continues to be altogether unknown to the law: the names of
the noblemen and gentlemen who compose it are never officially announced to
the public; no record is kept of its meetings and resolutions, nor has its
existence ever been recognised by any Act of Parliament.”[5] Nevertheless, the
Cabinet, having gained a place in the machinery of the State, gradually drew to
itself greater powers; and when, in 1693, the Earl of Sunderland persuaded
William III. to choose his Ministers from among the members of the
predominant party in the House of Commons, it is obvious that both the
Legislature and the Government obtained increased importance. Yet the King
still allowed himself considerable latitude, and had certainly no intention of
giving up all power in the matter.
The eighteenth century was mainly divided between the laxity of the first
two Georges—who, as foreigners largely concerned in Continental affairs,
were glad to leave much to their Ministers, especially to so powerful a man as
Sir Robert Walpole, though their powers of initiative were not entirely
abandoned—and the high-prerogative ideas of the third George, who
conceived that the kingly office had been unduly lowered since the Revolution
of 1688, and who resented the supremacy of a few Whig families. Whatever
may be thought of his policy or his motives, it cannot be denied that George
III. was within his right in determining to have an actual voice in the
appointment of his Ministers. A legal authority says:—“The Cabinet Council,
as it is called, consists of those Ministers of State who are more immediately
honoured with his Majesty’s confidence, and who are summoned to consult
upon the important and arduous discharge of the executive authority. Their
number and selection depend only upon the King’s pleasure; and each member
of that Council receives a summons or message for every attendance.” Such is
the statement of Mr. Edward Christian, Chief Justice of the Isle of Ely, and
Downing Professor of the Laws of England in the University of Cambridge, in
a note to the fourteenth edition of Blackstone’s Commentaries, published in
1803; and similar expositions appear in much more recent law-books.
Originally, the Cabinet Council was a committee of the Privy Council: it is
now, in effect, very little else than a committee of the House of Commons; and
it was Lord Melbourne’s instructions to the young Queen which gave it finally,
and perhaps irrevocably, that character.

Queen Victoria and her mother left Kensington on the 13th of July, and
proceeded to Buckingham Palace, a residence which George IV. had favoured,
and which William IV. detested and forsook. A levee was held shortly after her
Majesty’s arrival; on which occasion the Queen is said to have presented a
striking appearance, her head glittering with diamonds, and her breast covered
with the insignia of the Garter and other orders. More important business,
however, was approaching, and on the 17th of the month the Queen went in
State to the House of Lords to dissolve Parliament. Addressing both Houses,
her Majesty said:—“I have been anxious to seize the first opportunity of
meeting you, in order that I might repeat in person my cordial thanks for your
condolence upon the death of his late Majesty, and for the expression of
attachment and affection with which you congratulated me upon my accession
to the throne. I am very desirous of renewing the assurances of my
determination to maintain the Protestant religion as established by law; to
secure to all the free exercise of the rights of conscience; to protect the
liberties, and to promote the welfare, of all classes of the community. I rejoice
that, in ascending the throne, I find the country in amity with all foreign
Powers; and, while I faithfully perform the engagements of the Crown, and
carefully watch over the interests of my subjects, it will be the constant object
of my solicitude to maintain the blessings of peace.” After alluding to the chief
events of the session, the Queen concluded by observing:—“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 on all
occasions look with confidence to the wisdom of Parliament and the affection
of my people, which form the true support of the dignity of the Crown, and
ensure the stability of the Constitution.”
In the course of this speech—which was delivered with great clearness and
elocutionary power—the Queen expressed marked pleasure at a further
mitigation of the criminal code, which she hailed as an auspicious
commencement of her reign. The change was assuredly much needed, and the
subject had engaged the attention of eminent statesmen and lawyers for several
years. Jeremy Bentham had exposed the unreasonable and cruel severity of the
punishments attached to comparatively trivial offences; and Sir Samuel
Romilly, seconded by Sir James Mackintosh and Sir Fowell Buxton, had

brought the state of the law before the notice of the Legislature. For a long
while, the disinclination of Parliament to deal with important reforms kept this
crying abuse of justice in the background; but in 1833 a Royal Commission
was issued, for the purpose of inquiring how far it might be expedient to
reduce the written and unwritten law of the country into one digest, and to
report on the best manner of doing it. In the following year, the Commissioners
were further required to state their opinions on the subject of the employment
of counsel by prisoners, and on capital punishment. At the present day, it seems
almost incredible that until 1836 the accused in criminal trials were not
professionally defended. But still worse was the merciless spirit with which the
rights of property were hedged about. A case is reported in which a poor
Cornish woman, who, urged by want caused by the impressment of her
husband as a seaman, had stolen a piece of cloth from a tradesman’s door, was
hanged for the fact. Indeed, in the earlier years of the present century, the
death-penalty was so frequent, and attached to so many offences, that
numerous criminals were executed regularly every Monday morning outside
Newgate. The extreme rigour of the law, however, was softened by various
Acts of Parliament, passed from 1824 to 1829, with which the name of Sir
Robert Peel is honourably associated. But much still remained to be done; and
the Acts to which the Queen alluded, and which were introduced into the
House of Commons by Lord John Russell, confined the punishment of death to
high treason, and, with some exceptions, to offences consisting of, or
aggravated by, violence to the person, or tending directly to endanger life. By
the Criminal Law Consolidation Acts of 1861, death is now confined to treason
and wilful murder; so that the reign of Queen Victoria has been distinguished,
amongst other things, by a great and beneficent reform in the criminal laws of
England.
The General Election followed quickly on the dissolution of Parliament,
and the Whigs, who had been losing popularity for some time past, proceeded
to the country with the questionable credit of being supported by Royal favour.
Personally, the Queen liked Lord Melbourne, and readily adopted the political
opinions he advanced. The Ministerialists made the most of the fact, and it was
even said that they went about “placarded with her Majesty’s name.” But it is
not improbable that this very circumstance told against them in many quarters,
by inducing waverers to believe that the holders of office were endeavouring to
influence the electorate after a manner entirely foreign to constitutional usage.
At any rate, the Government lost seriously in the counties; yet, owing to their
gains among the borough constituencies, and the large amount of support

obtained in Scotland and Ireland, they returned to Westminster with a small
majority, though with an appreciable loss of political repute. Parliament
reassembled on the 20th of November, and on the 12th of December the Queen
sent a message to the House of Commons asking for a suitable provision for
the Duchess of Kent. This was made; the Civil List was settled, though not
without some opposition from the economists; and the necessary preliminaries
of a new reign were complete. The income of the Queen’s mother was fixed at

BANQUET TO THE QUEEN IN THE GUILDHALL
(NOVEMBER 9, 1837). (See p. 31.)
£30,000, as against £22,000 previously; while the Civil List of her Majesty
was settled at £385,000 a year, including £60,000 for the Privy Purse.

The Queen at once threw herself with business-like precision into the duties
of her high office. She rose at eight, signed despatches until the breakfast hour,
and then sent one of the servants to “invite” the Duchess of Kent to the Royal
table. Such was the rather cold formality observed by the young monarch; and
in other respects the etiquette of a Court seems to have been followed with
rigid exactness. The Duchess never approached the Queen unless specially
summoned, and always refrained from conversing on affairs of State. These
restraints were considered necessary, in order to prevent any suspicion of
undue influence by the mother over the daughter; but they were very
distressing to the former. The late Mr. Charles C. F. Greville, for many years
Clerk of the Council, was told by the Princess de Lieven that the Duchess of
Kent was “overwhelmed with vexation and disappointment.” The same
authority adds that the Queen behaved with kindness and attention to her
parent, but she had rendered herself quite independent of the Duchess, who
painfully felt her own insignificance. For eighteen years, she complained to
Princess de Lieven, she had made her child the sole object of all her thoughts
and hopes; and now she was taken from her. Speaking from his own
observations, Mr. Greville remarks:—“In the midst of all her propriety of mind
and conduct, the young Queen begins to exhibit slight signs of a peremptory
disposition, and it is impossible not to suspect that, as she gains confidence,
and as her character begins to develop, she will evince a strong will of her
own.”[6] With respect to the Queen and the Duchess, it should be recollected
that one in the exalted position of the former is necessarily bound by other than
domestic rules.
At twelve o’clock, the sovereign conferred with her Ministers, and the
serious business of the day at once began. When a document was handed to her
Majesty, she read it without comment until the end was reached, the Ministers
in the meanwhile observing a profound silence. The interval between the
termination of the Council and the dinner-hour was devoted to riding or
walking, and the public had many opportunities of observing the admirable
style in which the Queen sat her horse. At dinner, the first Lord-in-waiting took
the head of the table, opposite to whom was the chief Equerry-in-waiting. The
Queen sat half-way down on the right hand, and the guests were of course
placed according to their respective ranks. At an early hour, her Majesty left
the table for the drawing-room, where the time was passed in music and
conversation. The sovereign herself was a proficient at the pianoforte, and
often showed her abilities in this respect; and when the gentlemen returned
from the dining-room (which was in about a quarter of an hour), a little singing

would give variety to the evening. Mr. Greville speaks of these banquets as
dull and formal. They were doubtless unavoidably so; for the ceremony of a
Court is not favourable to the charm and vividness of the best social
intercourse.
On the 9th of November—eleven days before the meeting of Parliament—
the Queen went in State to the City, and was present at the inaugural banquet of
the new Lord Mayor, Alderman Cowan. The streets through which her Majesty
passed were densely thronged by people of all orders, who kept up an almost
continual volley of cheers as the Royal carriages, with their escort, proceeded
eastward. The houses were hung with richly-coloured cloths, green boughs,
and such flowers as could be furnished by the mid-autumn season. Busts of
Victoria were reared upon extemporary pedestals; flags and heraldic devices
stretched across the streets; and London displayed as much festive adornment
as was possible in those days. At Temple Bar, the Lord Mayor and Aldermen
were seen mounted on artillery-horses from Woolwich, each with a soldier at
its head, to restrain any erratic movement that might have troubled the
composure of the City dignitaries. On the arrival of the Queen, the Lord Mayor
dismounted, and, taking the City sword in his hand, delivered the keys to her
Majesty, who at once returned them. Then the Lord Mayor resumed his horse,
and, bearing the sword aloft, rode before the Queen into the heart of the City,
the Aldermen following in the rear of the Royal carriage. In the open space
before St. Paul’s Cathedral, hustings had been erected, on which were stationed
the Liverymen of the City Companies, and the Christ Hospital (or Blue-coat)
boys. One of the latter presented an address to the Queen, in accordance with
ancient custom, and the whole of the boys then sang the National Anthem. The
Guildhall was magnificently adorned for the occasion; and here an address was
read by the Recorder. A sumptuous banquet followed, and at night the
metropolis was very generally illuminated. On this occasion, the Queen was
accompanied by the Duchesses of Kent, Gloucester, and Cambridge, and by
the Dukes of Cambridge and Sussex, together with Prince George of
Cambridge. The Ambassadors, Cabinet Ministers, and nobility, followed in a
train of two hundred carriages, which are said to have extended for a mile and
a half. The title of Baronet was conferred on the Lord Mayor, and the two
Sheriffs were knighted. It was long since the City had had so brilliant a day,
and the memory of it survived for many years.
The first great historical event in the reign of Queen Victoria was the
insurrection in Canada. This proved to be of very serious import, and
undoubtedly showed the existence of much disaffection on the part of the

French-speaking colonists. It is probable that the latter had never outgrown the
mortification of being snatched from their old association with the mother-
country, and subjected to a Protestant kingdom. For several years after the
Treaty of 1763, which made over Canada to Great Britain as a consequence of
the brilliant victories gained by Wolfe and Amherst, the colony was
despotically ruled; but in 1791 a more representative form of government was
established, by which the whole possession was divided into an Upper and a
Lower Province. Each of the provinces was furnished with a constitution,
comprising a Governor, an Executive Council nominated by the Crown, a
Legislative Council appointed for life in the same way, and a Representative
Assembly elected for four years. This constitution (which had been sanctioned
by an Act of the British Parliament) worked very badly, and in 1837 the
Assemblies of both provinces were at issue with their Governors, and with the
Councils appointed by the monarch. But by far the most serious state of affairs
was that which prevailed in Lower (or Eastern) Canada, where the population
was mainly of French origin, and where, consequently, the antagonism of race
and of religion was chiefly to be expected. Towards the latter end of the reign
of William IV., Commissioners were nominated to inquire into the alleged
grievances, and the report of these gentlemen was presented to Parliament
early in the session of 1837. On the 6th of March, Lord John Russell (then
Home Secretary) brought the subject before the attention of the House of
Commons, and, after many prolonged debates, a series of resolutions was
passed, affirming the necessity of certain reforms in the political state of
Canada. These reforms, however, did not go nearly far enough to satisfy the
requirements of the disaffected, and by the close of 1837 the Canadians were in
full revolt.
When the Queen opened her first Parliament, on the 20th of November, the
state of Lower Canada was recommended, in the Royal Speech, to the “serious
consideration” of the Legislature. Before any measures could be taken,
intelligence of the outbreak reached England, and, on the 22nd of December,
Lord John Russell informed the House of Commons that the Legislative
Assembly of Lower Canada had been adjourned, on its refusal to entertain the
supplies, or to proceed to business, in consequence of what were deemed the
insufficient proposals of the Imperial Government. The colonists had
undoubtedly some grievances of old standing, and their constitution required
amendment in a popular sense. But a position had been assumed which the
advisers of the Crown could not possibly tolerate, and the malcontents were
now in arms against the just and legal authority of the sovereign. As early as

March, Lord John Russell had said that, since the 31st of October, 1832, no
provision had been made by the legislators of Lower Canada for defraying the
charges of the administration of justice, or for the support of civil government
in the province. The arrears amounted to a very large sum, which the House of
Assembly refused to vote, while at the same time demanding an elected
Legislative Council, and entire control over all branches of the Government.
The insurgents of Canada had numerous sympathisers in the United States,
where, under cover of a good deal of extravagant talk about liberty, many
people began to hope that existing complications would effect the long-desired
annexation of the two provinces to the great Federal Republic. Those who were
the most earnest in their views soon passed from sympathy into action. In the
latter days of 1837, a party of Americans seized on Navy Island, a small piece
of territory, situated in the river Niagara a little above the Falls, and belonging
to Canada. Numbering as many as seven hundred, and having with them
twenty pieces of cannon, these unauthorised volunteers seemed likely to prove
formidable; but their means of offence were soon diminished by an energetic,
though somewhat irregular, proceeding on the part of the Canadian authorities,
acting, as was afterwards well known, under the orders of Sir Francis Head, the

PRESIDENT VAN BUREN.
Governor of Upper Canada. A small steamboat owned by the American
invaders, with which they kept up communications with their own side of the
river, and which was laden with arms and ammunition for the insurgents, was
cut adrift from her moorings on the night of December 29th, set on fire, and

left to sweep over the cataract. The affair led to a great deal of diplomatic
correspondence between the American and British Governments; but the
preceding violation of Canadian soil by a body of adventurers precluded the
Cabinet of Washington from making any serious demands on that of London.
Ultimately, in the course of 1838, the President (Mr. Van Buren) issued a
proclamation calling on all persons engaged in schemes for invading Canada to
desist from the same, on pain of such punishments as the law attached to the
offence. This put an end to the difficulty so far as the two countries were
concerned; but the insurrection was not yet entirely suppressed.
Although the worst disaffection was in Lower Canada, both provinces were
disturbed by movements of a disloyal nature. Upper Canada was excited by the
fiery appeals of a Scotsman named William Lyon Mackenzie; Lower Canada
by the incitements of Louis Joseph Papineau, one of the disaffected French
provincials. The two divisions of the colony, however, were jealous of each
other, and this hampered what might otherwise have been a more dangerous
rising. The Radical party in England supported the cause of the malcontents,
and insisted on the necessity of at once redressing all grievances. The
Government of Lord Melbourne maintained that the rebellion must be first
suppressed; and undoubtedly that was the only course consistent with Imperial
authority. In the autumn of 1837, a small party of English troops was beaten at
St. Denis; but another detachment was successful against the rebels, and the
garrisons of the various cities, though extremely small, held their own against
the rising tide of insurrection. Aided by the Royalists, the Government force
under Sir John Colborne inflicted some severe blows on the enemy; yet the
movement continued throughout the greater part of 1838. On the 16th of
January in that year, however, the Earl of Durham had been appointed
Governor-General of the five British colonies of North America, and Lord
High Commissioner for the adjustment of the affairs of Canada. The liberal
policy thus inaugurated, and the victories obtained over the rebels by Sir John
Colborne, Sir Francis Head, and others, brought the revolt to an end before the
close of the year, and the colony soon afterwards entered on a future of
prosperity.
The task of Lord Durham had, nevertheless, been surrounded by many
difficulties, and, although he was sent by the British Government to carry out
measures of leniency and concession, which his personal inclinations were
well inclined to second, he was speedily called to account by the Imperial
Cabinet for an ordinance touching the punishment of offenders, which, being
regarded as in some respects illegal, was disallowed. Protesting that he had

been abandoned by the Government, Lord Durham resigned on the 9th of
October, and the principal conduct of affairs was left in the hands of Sir John
Colborne. The policy of the High Commissioner had been swayed by truly
benevolent and broadly liberal motives; but he had adopted—perhaps
necessarily, considering the state of affairs with which he had to deal—a highly
dictatorial manner, and the Opposition at home (especially in the Upper House,
under the violent incentives of Lord Brougham) found several opportunities of
effective attack. The Government, being weak and vacillating, said less in
defence of their representative than they might have done; Lord Durham, in his
passionate and imperious way, issued a farewell proclamation to the people of
Canada, which, in effect, amounted to an appeal from the decisions of the
Queen’s advisers—an appeal, that is, to a community still in rebellion against
the Crown; Ministers replied by recalling their insubordinate servant; and the
career of Lord Durham was at an end. Having left his post without permission
—certainly a very improper proceeding—he was not honoured with the usual
salute on landing, and, in revenge, caused his wife to withdraw from the
position she held in the Queen’s household.
The recall of Lord Durham had been anticipated by his resignation; but the
disgraced official, assisted by his two secretaries, Charles Buller and Edward
Gibbon Wakefield, drew up a report containing the germs of that system of
unity and self-government under which Canada has since become a loyal,
contented, and progressive colony. It was not long before the Cabinet of Lord
Melbourne carried out the suggestions of the discredited, but still successful,
dictator. In 1839, Lord Glenelg, who had been Colonial Secretary during the
dissension with Lord Durham, gave place to Lord Normanby, and he shortly
afterwards to Lord John Russell, who in 1840 passed a measure for reuniting
Upper and Lower Canada, and establishing a system of colonial freedom. In
the same year, Lord Durham died at the early age of forty-eight; but the
principles of his colonial policy rose triumphant above his tomb.

CHAPTER III.

THE DIFFICULTIES OF A YOUNG SOVEREIGN.

Decline in the Popularity of the Queen—Its Causes—Her Majesty Accused of Encouraging the Papists
—Alleged Design to Assassinate the Monarch—Disloyal Toryism—Honourable Conduct of the
Queen—Fatal Riots at Canterbury, owing to the Pretensions of John Nicholls Thom—Preparations
for the Coronation—The Ceremony at Westminster Abbey—Incidents of the Day—Mismanagement
at Coronations—Development of Steam Navigation and the Railway System—Prorogation of
Parliament in August, 1838—Difficult Position of the Government—Rise of Chartism—Appearance
of Mr. Gladstone and Mr. Disraeli in the Political Arena—Failure of Mr. Disraeli’s First Speech
—“Conservatives” and “Liberals”—Capture of Aden, in Southern Arabia—Wars with China, owing
to the Smuggling of Opium into that Country by the Anglo-Indians—Troubles in Jamaica—Bill for
Suspending the Constitution—Defeat and Resignation of the Melbourne Government—Ineffectual
Attempt of Sir Robert Peel to Form a Cabinet—The Question of the Bedchamber Women—
Reinstatement of the Melbourne Administration.

Nothing could exceed the popularity of the Queen at the beginning of her
reign. Her youth, her innocence, the novelty of her duties and the difficulty of
her position, all appealed with a commanding tenderness to every manly
instinct and every womanly sympathy. But after a while a change occurred in
the national sentiment, which was not altogether inexcusable on the part of the
public, though it did some injustice to the sovereign. Many enthusiasts
expected more than they had any right to expect, and were disappointed
because the Queen did not at once do wonders for the removal of grievances,
and the cure of national distress. Beyond these vague impressions, however,
there were some real causes of complaint, or at least of apprehension. It was
seen very clearly that the young monarch had placed herself too unreservedly
in the hands of one political connection. The offices about the Queen’s person
were filled by ladies belonging to the families of the chief Ministers. People
said that Lord Melbourne was too much at the Palace; that he sought to occupy
the position of a

THE EARL OF DURHAM.
Mentor in all things; and that in the General Election the Queen showed a
partiality for certain candidates who belonged to the faction then in power.
Ministers and their supporters did really use the name and supposed leanings of
her Majesty as a means of bolstering up a Cabinet which they knew to be
generally unpopular; and persons were found to ask whether the English Court
was always to be the appendage of an aristocratic coterie.
Under the influence of these feelings, some men were unmanly enough to
attack the Queen in public with shameful imputations. The excitement, which
began during the elections of 1837, had become almost frantic in 1839. The
Orangemen of Ireland, and the ultra-Protestants of England, believed, or
affected to believe, that the sovereign was being influenced to destroy the
reformed religion, and re-establish Papacy throughout her dominions. The
Melbourne Administration supported religious liberty; to some extent, its
members leant for support upon the Irish vote; the Queen favoured Lord
Melbourne: therefore, her Majesty was inclined to Rome. Such were the stages
by which these hot-headed reasoners

THE THRONE-ROOM, BUCKINGHAM PALACE.
arrived at their conclusion. Some placed their hopes in the Tory party; others
openly declared that the Tories, could they only get possession of the
sovereign, would poison her, and change the succession. Men recollected with
an uneasy feeling that, in 1835, Mr. Joseph Hume, a conspicuous Radical
member of Parliament, detected and unmasked an Orange plot for setting aside
the rights of the Princess Victoria, and giving the crown to the Duke of
Cumberland, on the ridiculous plea that, unless some such step were taken, the
Duke of Wellington might seize the regal power for himself. The investigations
which the Government were compelled to make raised a strong suspicion that
the Duke of Cumberland was privy to this traitorous scheme. The English
people were so delighted when he left for Hanover, after the death of William
IV., that a cheap medal was struck to commemorate the event; and his despotic
rule in the small German kingdom amply justified their fears. Nothing more, it
would seem, was to be dreaded from the fifth son of George III.; yet
apprehensions of a conspiracy still remained.
It is a remarkable feature of the times that during all this commotion the
Liberals were the loyal and courtly party, while many of the Tories indulged in
fierce invectives against the monarch. On the one side, the Irish agitator,
Daniel O’Connell, vaunted in the course of 1839 that he could bring together
five hundred thousand of his countrymen to defend the life and honour of “the
beloved young lady” who filled the English throne; on the other, a Mr.
Bradshaw, member for Canterbury in the Tory interest, alleged, without any
circumlocution, that the countenance of Queen Victoria, the ruler of Protestant

England, was given to “Irish Papists and Rapparees,” her Majesty, he added,
being “Queen only of a faction, and as much of a partisan as the Lord
Chancellor himself.” This, indeed, was by no means the worst of the speaker’s
utterances; but his wildest flights of vituperation were received with
enthusiastic cheers. It is but fair, however, to add that he afterwards apologised
for his bad manners. At a meeting held at the Freemasons’ Tavern, presided
over by Lord Stanhope, a Chartist orator proposed to open a subscription for
presenting the Queen with a skipping-rope and a birch-rod. Other persons
spoke with equal violence, and in some instances the authorities even found it
necessary to warn military officers, and civil servants of the Crown, against
such disloyal utterances. One very painful incident occurred towards the end of
June, 1839, when her Majesty was hissed on Ascot racecourse. It was
represented to her that the Duchess of Montrose and Lady Sarah Ingestre were
amongst the persons so acting; the Queen therefore showed her displeasure to
those ladies at a State ball. The slander was apparently traced to Lady
Lichfield, who denied it, first by word, and then by writing. With the letter in
her hand, the Duchess went to the Palace, and required an audience of her
Majesty, but, after being kept waiting a couple of hours, was refused, on the
advice of Lord Melbourne. She was extremely angry, and insisted that a written
statement should be laid before the Queen. These circumstances increased the
unpopularity of the monarch, and she was coldly received at the prorogation of
Parliament.
Yet, if people could have set aside their prejudices and passions, they would
have found abundant evidence that the nature of the Queen was instinct with
just and honourable feelings. She had been accustomed from childhood to live
strictly within her income, and to deny herself any little gratification which
could not be at once paid for in ready money. The same habit of virtuous
prudence continued after her accession to the throne; and out of her savings she
was enabled, during her first year of regal power, to discharge the heavy debts
of her father, contracted before she was born. With respect to this matter,
however, it should be mentioned that, according to a statement in the Morning
Post, the Duke of Kent’s executors had succeeded in Chancery in establishing
their claim against the Crown to the mines of Cape Breton, which had been
made over to his Royal Highness for a period of sixty years dating from 1826,
and that therefore the Crown must either have paid the Duke’s debts, or
suffered the mines to be worked for the benefit of the creditors. The Queen also
paid her mother’s debts, which, however, were in some respects her own, since
they had in the main been incurred on her behalf. With a truly liberal and

generous feeling, she continued to the natural children of William IV. by Mrs.
Jordan the allowance of £500 a year each which had been granted them by the
King. What was really regrettable in the early part of the Queen’s reign was the
completeness with which the new sovereign placed herself in the hands of Lord
Melbourne and his clique, and which seemed for a time to set her in the light of
a partisan. But what else could be expected of one so young, so inexperienced,
so incapable by early training to assume all at once the full responsibilities of
royalty? The fault was with the advisers, rather than with the advised.
The General Election of 1837 failed to rescue the Government from the
difficult position they had long occupied. Threatened by the Radicals, who
considered they did not move fast enough, they were obliged to lean for
assistance on the Conservatives, without whose help they would often have
been left in a minority. Ministers felt the ignominy of their lot, but were unable
to amend it; and a painful set of incidents in the spring of 1838 gave occasion
for a sharp attack on the Home Office. A few years previously, a person called
John Nicholls Thom left his home in Cornwall, and settled in Kent, where he
described himself as Sir William Courtenay, Knight of Malta. He was in truth a
religious madman, claiming to be the King of Jerusalem, or, in other words, the
Messiah; and multitudes of persons, belonging for the most part, though not
entirely, to the poor and ignorant classes, believed in his assertions. Dressed in
a fantastical costume, he went about the country, haranguing the people, and
violently denouncing the Poor Law. He persuaded many of the farmers and
yeomen that he was entitled to some of the finest estates in Kent, and that he
would shortly be established as a great chieftain, when all the people on his
lands should live rent-free. To the still more credulous he spoke of himself as
Jesus Christ, and pointed in confirmation to certain marks in his hands and
side, which he described as the wounds inflicted by the nails of the cross.
Crowds followed him about, believing in his foolish miracles; some actually
paid him divine honours; but a tragedy was approaching. On the 31st of May,
1838, Thom shot a constable who had interfered in his proceedings. The
military were then summoned from Canterbury, when the rioters retreated into
Bossenden Wood; a lieutenant who endeavoured to arrest the maniac was also
shot dead; and a riot ensued, in which several persons, including Thom
himself, were killed by the fire of the soldiers, and others wounded. It
afterwards appeared that the man had previously been confined as a lunatic,
but had been liberated the year before by Lord John Russell, acting as Home
Secretary. For this, the latter was severely censured by the Opposition in
Parliament, and a select committee was appointed to inquire into the

circumstances; but it was generally agreed that the Minister was not to blame
in the matter.
In the first half of 1838, attention was drawn away from many distracting
controversies by the preparations for crowning the new sovereign. The

THE CORONATION CHAIR,
WESTMINSTER ABBEY.
imagination of the populace was powerfully affected by the thought of this
gorgeous ceremony, and a Radical paper of the time observed that the
commonalty had gone “coronation-mad.” Political economists, however, fixed
their thoughts upon the question of expense, and it was resolved that the
charges should fall far short of those incurred for George IV., which amounted
to £243,000. The crowning of his successor had cost the nation no more than
£50,000; but it was stated in Parliament that the expenses for Victoria would be
about £70,000—an increase on the previous reign due to the desire of
Ministers to enable the great

THE CORONATION OF THE QUEEN. (After the Painting by Sir George Hayter.) (See p. 43.)
mass of the people to share in what was described as a national festivity. Some
important alterations were introduced into the programme. The procession of
the estates of the realm was to be struck out, and the accustomed banquet in
Westminster Hall, with its feudal observances, was likewise marked for
omission. To compensate for these losses, it was arranged that there should be
a procession through the streets which all could see. The new arrangements
were objected to by some of the upper classes; but there can be no question
that the popularity of the show was greatly enhanced by these concessions to
the wishes of the majority.
The coronation took place on the 28th of June. Although the day began with
clouds and some rain, the weather afterwards cleared, and the pageantry was
seen to great advantage. The streets were lined with spectators; an unbroken
row of carriages moved on towards the Abbey; and the windows were crowded
with on-lookers. At ten o’clock A.M., the Royal procession started from
Buckingham Palace, and, passing up Constitution Hill, proceeded along
Piccadilly, St. James’s Street, Pall Mall, Cockspur Street, Charing Cross,
Whitehall, and Parliament Street, to the west door of the grand old historic
structure where the ceremonial was to take place. The carriages of the
Ambassadors Extraordinary attracted much attention, especially that of

Marshal Soult, which, so far as the framework was concerned, appears to have
been the same as that used on occasions of state by the last great Prince of the
House of Condé, one of the most famous military commanders of the
seventeenth century. The gallant adversary of Wellington in the wars of the
Peninsula was everywhere received with the heartiest cheers, and was so
deeply touched by this cordiality of feeling on the part of his old opponents,
that some years after he declared himself, in the French Chamber, a warm
partisan of the English alliance. Westminster Abbey had been brilliantly
decorated for the occasion. The ancient aisles glowed and shone with crimson
and purple hangings, with cloth of gold, and with the jewels, velvets, and
plumes of the peeresses; and when the procession entered at the west door, the
effect was both magnificent and solemn.
It was half-past eleven when her Majesty reached the Abbey. Retiring for a
space into the robing-room, she issued forth clad in the Royal robes of crimson
velvet, lined with ermine, and embroidered with gold lace. Round her neck she
wore the collars of the Garter, Thistle, Bath, and St. Patrick, and on her head a
circlet of gold. It is mentioned that she looked very animated; and assuredly the
scene was one well calculated to impress even the mind of a sovereign with a
sense of lofty and almost overwhelming grandeur. The noble, time-honoured
building, with half the history of England in its monuments and its memories,
appealed powerfully to the moral sentiment; while the splendour of the
decorations and the costumes was such as to hold the Turkish Ambassador
entranced for some minutes. The peers and great officials, with their pages and
other attendants, were gorgeously dressed; so also were the Foreign Ministers
and their suites, and, in particular, Prince Esterhazy glittered with diamonds to
his very boot-heels. Her train upborne by the daughters of eight peers,
preceded by the regalia, the Princes of the blood-royal, and the great officers of
State, and followed by the ladies of the Court and the gentlemen-at-arms, the
Queen advanced slowly to the centre of the choir, and, amidst the chanting of
anthems, moved towards a chair placed midway between the chair of homage
and the altar, where, kneeling on a faldstool, she engaged in private devotion.
The ceremony of the coronation then commenced.
The first act was that which is called “the Recognition.” Accompanied by
some of the chief civil dignitaries, the Archbishop of Canterbury advanced, and
said, “Sirs, I here present unto you Queen Victoria, the undoubted Queen of
this realm; wherefore, all you who are come this day to do your homage, are
you willing to do the same?” The question was answered by loud cries of “God
save Queen Victoria!” and, after some further observances, her Majesty made

her offerings to the Church, in the shape of a golden altar-cloth, and an ingot of
gold of a pound weight. The strictly religious part of the ceremony followed,
and, at the conclusion of a sermon preached by the Bishop of London, the Oath
was administered in the manner usual on such occasions. The Queen then knelt
again upon the faldstool, while the choir sang, “Veni, Creator Spiritus;” after
which came the Anointing. Her Majesty seated herself in the historic chair of
King Edward I., while the Dukes of Buccleuch and Rutland, and the Marquises
of Anglesey and Exeter (all being Knights of the Garter), held a cloth of gold
over her head. The Dean of Westminster next took the ampulla from the altar,
and poured some of the oil into the anointing-spoon; whereupon the
Archbishop anointed the head and hands of the Queen, marking them with the
cross, and pronouncing the words,—“Be thou anointed with holy oil, as kings,
priests, and prophets were anointed,” etc. A prayer or blessing was then uttered,
and the investiture with the Royal Robe, the rendering of the Orb, and the
delivery of the Ring and Sceptre, were the next ceremonies. The placing of the
Crown on the sovereign’s head was one of the most striking incidents of the
day. As the Queen knelt, and the crown was placed on her brow, a ray of
sunlight fell on her face, and, being reflected from the diamonds, made a kind
of halo round her head.[7] At the same moment, the peers assumed their
coronets, the Bishops their caps, and the Kings-of-Arms their crowns, thus
adding greatly to the richness and dignity of the spectacle. Loud cheers were
echoed from every part of the Abbey; trumpets sounded, drums beat; and the
Tower and Park guns were fired by signal.
The Benediction, the Enthroning, and the formal rendering of Homage, now
ensued. The last of these ceremonies had a singularly feudal character. First,
the Archbishop of Canterbury knelt, and did homage for himself and the other
Lords Spiritual; then the uncles of the Queen, the Dukes of Sussex and
Cambridge, removed their coronets, and, without kneeling, made a vow of
fealty in these words:—“I do become your liege man, of life and limb, and of
earthly worship; and faith and truth I will bear unto you, to live and die, against
all manner of folks. So help me God!” Having touched the crown on the
Queen’s head, they kissed her left cheek, and retired. The other peers then
performed their homage kneeling, the senior of each rank pronouncing the
words. It was at this part of the day’s proceedings that an awkward incident
occurred—an incident, however, which served to bring out an amiable trait in
the sovereign’s character. As Lord Rolle, then upwards of eighty, was
ascending the steps to the throne, he stumbled and fell. The Queen, forgetting
all the ceremonious pomp of the occasion, started forward as if to save him,

held out her hand for him to kiss, and expressed a hope that his Lordship was
not hurt. Some rather obvious puns were made on the correspondence of the
noble Lord’s involuntary action with the title which he bore; and even his
daughter was heard to remark, after it had been ascertained that no damage was
done, “Oh, it’s nothing! It’s only part of his tenure to play the roll at the
Coronation.”
While the Lords were doing homage, the Earl of Surrey, Treasurer of the
Household, threw silver medals about the choir and lower galleries, which led
to a good deal of rather unseemly scrambling. The choir then sang an anthem,
and the Queen received two sceptres from the Dukes of Norfolk and
Richmond. Next, divesting herself of her crown, she knelt at the altar, and,
after two of the Bishops had read the Gospel and Epistle of the Communion
Service, made further offerings to the Church. She then received the
Sacrament; the final blessing was given; and the choir sang the anthem,
“Hallelujah! for the Lord God Omnipotent reigneth.” Quitting the throne, and
passing into the chapel of Edward the Confessor, while the organ played a
solemn yet triumphant strain, her Majesty was relieved of her Imperial Robe of
State, and arrayed in one of purple velvet. Thus adorned, with the crown upon
her head, the sceptre with the cross in the right hand, and the orb in the left, the
Queen presented herself at the west door of the Abbey, and, delivering the
regalia to gentlemen who attended from the Jewel Office, re-entered the State
carriage on her return to the Palace. It was by this time nearly four o’clock, but
the streets were still crowded with sight-seers. The peers now wore their
coronets, and the Queen her crown; the latter of which (together with the
coronets of the Royal Family) blazed with diamonds and other precious stones.
State dinners, balls, fireworks, illuminations, feasts to the poor, and a fair in
Hyde Park, lasting four days, which was visited by the Queen herself, followed
the splendid ceremony of which Westminster Abbey had been the theatre.
In many respects, the proceedings in the Abbey were grand and impressive;
but Mr. Greville, the clerk of the Council, lets us a little behind the scenes in
the Second Part of his Memoirs. “The different actors in the ceremonial,” he
writes, “were very imperfect in their parts, and had neglected to rehearse them.
Lord John Thynne, who officiated for the Dean of Westminster, told me that

THE QUEEN RECEIVING THE SACRAMENT AT HER CORONATION.
(After the Painting by C. R. Leslie, R.A.)
nobody knew what was to be done except the Archbishop and himself (who
had rehearsed), Lord Willoughby (who is experienced in these matters), and
the Duke of Wellington; and consequently there was a continual difficulty and
embarrassment, and the Queen never knew what she was to do next. They
made her leave her chair, and enter into St. Edward’s Chapel, before the
prayers were concluded, much to the discomfiture of the Archbishop. She said
to [Lord] John Thynne,

THE DUCHESS OF KENT.
‘Pray tell me what I am to do, for they don’t know;’ and at the end, when
the orb was put into her hand, she said to him, ‘What am I to do with it?’ ‘Your
Majesty is to carry it, if you please, in your hand.’ ‘Am I?’ she said; ‘it is very
heavy.’ The ruby ring was made for her little finger instead of the fourth, on
which the rubric prescribes that it should be put. When the Archbishop was to
put it on, she extended the former, but he said it must be on the latter. She said
it was too small, and she could not get it on. He said it was right to put it there,
and, as he insisted, she yielded, but had first to take off her other rings, and
then this was forced on; but it hurt her very much, and as soon as the ceremony
was over she was obliged to bathe her finger in iced water in order to get it off.
The noise and confusion were very great when the medals were thrown about
by Lord Surrey, everybody scrambling with all their might and main to get
them, and none more vigorously than the Maids of Honour.”
There can be no doubt that on all these occasions mistakes and omissions
are numerous. What accidents may have attended the coronation of Queen
Elizabeth it is impossible to say, for there were no Memoir-writers in those
days; but, in several of his letters, Horace Walpole gives some amusing
anecdotes of the unpreparedness of the Court officials at the coronation of
George III. In a communication to Sir Horace Mann, dated September 28th,
1761, he says:—“The heralds were so ignorant of their business, that, though
pensioned for nothing but to register lords and ladies, and what belongs to

them, they advertised in the newspaper for the Christian names and places of
abode of the peeresses. The King complained of such omissions, and of the
want of precedents: Lord Effingham, the Earl Marshal, told him it was true
there had been great neglect in that office, but he had now taken such care of
registering directions that next coronation would be conducted with the
greatest order imaginable. The King was so diverted with this flattering speech
that he made the Earl repeat it several times.”
On the 4th of September, 1838, the King and Queen of the Belgians paid a
visit to England. They landed at Ramsgate, and were escorted by Lord
Torrington to the Queen at Windsor Castle, where they remained the guests of
her Majesty. A fortnight later, a military review took place in Windsor Little
Park, when the Queen appeared on horseback in the Windsor uniform, with the
badge and ribbon of the Order of the Garter. She had King Leopold, in a Field
Marshal’s uniform, on her right, and Lord Hill, Commander of the Forces, on
her left, followed by the Duke of Wellington and Lord Palmerston. The King
and Queen of the Belgians left the Castle on the 20th, and embarked the
following day for Ostend. It was a great delight to the English sovereign to
have King Leopold as a visitor, for his advice on affairs of State was highly
valuable.
The year 1838 was signalised, among other things, by some events showing
the rapid change which science was making in the habits of society. On the
23rd of April, the Great Western steamer arrived at New York, after a voyage
of fifteen clear days. This famous ship, and the Sirius, whose voyage was
simultaneous almost to a day, were the first vessels which had crossed the
Atlantic by steam-power alone, sails having been used in combination with
steam on previous occasions. The Great Western was in those days the largest
steamer ever known, her tonnage being equal to that of the largest merchant-
ships. She was built at Bristol, and sailed from that port on the 7th of April.
When she entered the harbour of New York, she had still a surplus of one
hundred and forty-eight tons of coal on board, and the problem was solved as
to whether a steamer could be constructed large enough to carry sufficient fuel
for so long a voyage. The size, tonnage, and speed of this historic vessel have
been greatly surpassed in later times; but the fact of a ship crossing the Atlantic
in fifteen days was a very genuine astonishment to the people of 1838. Two
years later (1840), the Cunard line of steamers was established at Liverpool,
which soon entirely eclipsed Bristol as the great commercial port on the
western side of England, and as the packet-station for the American service.
Another interesting feature of the year 1838 was the opening of the London

and Birmingham Railway throughout its entire length. The precise date was the
17th of September, and thenceforward the railway system progressed rapidly.
The line in question, however, was not the first that had been placed at the
disposal of the public. The original railway for the use of passengers was that
constructed by Edward Pease and George Stephenson between Stockton and
Darlington, and opened on the 27th of September, 1825. The next was the
Liverpool and Manchester Railway, commenced in October, 1826, and opened
on the 15th of September, 1830—on which occasion, Mr. Huskisson, a
prominent statesman of the time, was accidentally killed. Nevertheless, the
development of the system is associated almost entirely with the reign of
Queen Victoria, and we hardly think of railways as belonging, even in their
inception, to an earlier period.
The Parliamentary Session of 1838 came to a close on the 16th of August.
Having taken her seat on the throne, the Queen was addressed by the Speaker
of the House of Commons on the subject of the suspension of the constitution
of Lower Canada (which had been set aside as a preliminary to the introduction
of more liberal arrangements when the rebellion should be suppressed), and on
some other matters of less general interest. Her Majesty gave the Royal assent
to a number of Bills, and then proceeded to read the Speech, which presents
nothing of importance. The Government were heartily glad to be free for some
months from the criticism and the menaces of a Parliament not very cordially
inclined towards Lord Melbourne and his colleagues. When the House of
Commons reassembled after the General Election in 1837, Ministers found
themselves with a majority of only twelve. Conservative support saved them
from discomfiture on several occasions; but this very fact was not unnaturally
considered fatal to their reputation as Whigs. The breach between the Cabinet
and the advanced section of the party became wider and more impassable
during the session of 1838: the recess, therefore, came as an immense relief. In
addition to their troubles in the Lower House, Ministers had to encounter, in
the other branch of the Legislature, the invectives of Lord Brougham, who had
quarrelled with his old friends in consequence of not being reappointed to the
Chancellorship in 1835. The affairs of Canada, moreover, had brought the
Whigs into collision with Lord Durham, whose nature was almost as
passionate and imperious as that of Brougham himself. Their demerits were
probably not so great as their enemies tried to show; but the conduct of affairs
was weak, and Tories and Radicals were alike dissatisfied, though often for the
most diverse reasons.

A good deal of discontent, also, was growing up in the country itself. The
price of bread was high; wages were low; trade was not prosperous; and the
operation of the new Poor Law was considered unnecessarily harsh. In the
autumn of 1838, meetings were held in various localities, at which some of the
speakers addressed inflammatory language to the assembled people, who
belonged to the artisan and labouring classes. A body of men had arisen,
calling themselves Chartists. They demanded a Charter of popular rights, the
six points of

NEWARK CASTLE.
which were Manhood Suffrage, Vote by Ballot, Annual Parliaments, Payment
of Members, Abolition of the Property Qualification, and Equal Electoral
Districts. Several of these objects have since been carried out, either wholly or
nearly so; but, in the days of which we write, they seemed dangerous and
visionary in the highest degree. The middle classes, who had carried the
Reform Bill of 1832 with the assistance of the grades below them, considered
that enough had been done when their own interests were satisfied. A reaction
had set in, and the prosperous were afraid of advancing on to the paths of
revolution. Even Lord John Russell declared against further organic changes,
and, in the absence of any leaders of distinguished social status, the humbler
orders took the agitation into their own hands. A sentiment of vague discontent
arose very speedily after the passing of the great measure which changed the
representation. Bad harvests and general distress gave acrimony to the spirit of
political discussion, and in the summer of 1838 a committee of six Members of
Parliament and six working men, assembling at Birmingham, prepared a Bill
embodying their views of what

MR. DISRAELI IN HIS YOUTH. (After the
Portrait by Maclise.)
was required by the country in general, and the labouring classes in particular.
This was the document which soon afterwards received the name of “the
People’s Charter”—on the suggestion, it is said, of Daniel O’Connell. The
direction of the movement fell into the hands of the more violent members.
Physical force was threatened; torchlight meetings were held; processions were
formed, in which guns, pikes, and other weapons were openly displayed; and
on the 12th of December the Government issued a proclamation against all
such gatherings. Chartism, however, was not destroyed by this measure. Some
degree of truth pervaded its extravagance, and its influence has been felt in
later days.
It is about this period, or a little earlier, that we become aware of two great
names in modern statesmanship, one of which is still potent in the political
world, while the other has but recently passed into the sphere of completed
history. Mr. Gladstone—then a young man of twenty-three—was returned for
Newark, in December, 1832, to the first reformed Parliament. He was then a
Conservative, with the same High Church leanings which, in the midst of
considerable changes on other subjects, he has manifested ever since. His
ability, his mental culture, and his habits of business, attracted the attention of

Sir Robert Peel, who, in his short-lived Administration of 1834-5, made him a
Junior Lord of the Treasury, and afterwards Under-Secretary for Colonial
Affairs; but it was not until the beginning of Victoria’s reign that he became
conspicuous. Probably no one—not even himself—could at that time have
anticipated the greatness he was subsequently to achieve; but he was slowly
maturing his powers, and acquiring that extraordinary knowledge of public
affairs for which he has since been famous.
His rival, Mr. Disraeli, afterwards Lord Beaconsfield, did not enter
Parliament until the latter half of 1837—the first Parliament of the reign of
Queen Victoria. He was the son of Isaac D’Israeli, an author of distinction, the
descendant of a family of Jews, formerly connected with Spain and Italy. Isaac
having quarrelled with the Wardens of the Synagogue, his son Benjamin was
brought up as a Christian from an early period of his life. By 1837-8, he had
made a name for himself by a variety of novels, embodying those political and
social ideas which afterwards influenced his conduct as a public man—a sort
of Toryism, with an infusion of democratic sympathy. It was as a species of
Radical, though with Tory support, that he first endeavoured to obtain a seat in
the House of Commons; but a few years later he found no difficulty in
displaying the Conservative colours without reserve. The inconsistency, though
of course not susceptible of being entirely explained away, was hardly so
extreme as might at first appear. Mr. Disraeli hated the Whigs, and objected to
several features of the Reform Bill, as giving too much power to the middle
classes, and too little to the working classes, and as tending in this way to the
increased predominance of the great Whig families. He appeared, therefore, to
be attacking the same enemy, whether from a Radical or a Tory platform. In a
letter written on the 17th of January, 1874, this was the explanation given by
Mr. Disraeli himself. “It seemed to me,” he said, “that the borough
constituency of Lord Grey was essentially, and purposely, a Dissenting and low
Whig constituency, consisting of the principal employers of labour, and that the
ballot was the only instrument to extricate us from these difficulties.” Probably,
Mr. Disraeli was consistent from his own point of view, and in his devotion to
certain leading ideas; but it is equally obvious that he was resolved to get into
Parliament, and that he addressed his appeal at different times to different
supporters.
The future Lord Beaconsfield was thirty-three years of age when he entered
the House of Commons as the Conservative Member for Maidstone. He was
five years older than Mr. Gladstone, and began his Parliamentary career five
years later; but, from the close of 1837 to the summer of 1876, when Mr.

Disraeli was advanced to the Peerage, both were members of the Lower House,
except during the short interval between Mr. Gladstone’s retirement from
Newark in 1846 and his election for Oxford University in 1847. The
appearance of the representative for Maidstone did not create a favourable
impression. He was a dandy, of the type existing in those days, with the
addition of a certain Hebrew extravagance and gorgeousness. His long black
hair, his sallow countenance, his bottle-green coat and white waistcoat, his
profusion of rings and gold chains, his strange gestures and general
exaggeration of manner, excited a sense of the ludicrous which was not
fortunate for the new-comer. His first attempt at oratory had a disastrous
termination. A few years earlier, O’Connell had patronised young Disraeli; but
they afterwards quarrelled on political grounds, and, in reply to a savage attack
on himself by the Irish agitator, Mr. Disraeli had declared that, as soon as he
obtained a seat in the House of Commons, he would inflict on that demagogue
such a “castigation” as would make him repent the insults to which he had
given utterance. On the 7th of December, 1837, during an Irish debate, he rose
to acquit himself of this engagement. The speech had been elaborately
prepared, but was too high-flown for the taste of the House. Certain it is that
there were frequent interruptions and bursts of laughter; but a good deal of the
disturbance appears to have originated with the Irish followers of Mr.
O’Connell. The new member struggled bravely for a long time against this
ungenerous opposition, but at length gave way, in these memorable words
addressed to the Speaker:—“I am not at all surprised, Sir, at the reception I
have met with. I have begun several times many things, and I have often
succeeded at last. Ay, Sir, and, though I sit down now, the time will come when
you will hear me.”
The great figures of Mr. Gladstone and Mr. Disraeli have occupied such
prominent positions during the reign of Queen Victoria, that it has seemed
necessary to make special reference to their rise as politicians. At this period,
both sat on the Conservative side of the House. But their Conservatism was of
two very different orders; Mr. Gladstone’s being more of the steady, orthodox
kind, while Mr. Disraeli’s shot forth into novelties and unexpected
developments, touching on autocracy in one direction, and on democratic
power in another. The term “Conservative,” it may be here remarked, arose
about the commencement of the Queen’s reign, or at any rate not long before.
Since 1832, also, it had been not unusual for certain enthusiasts of the opposite
party to call themselves Liberals; but the older members of both bodies
preferred the historic appellations of Whig and Tory. “Radical” was another

term belonging to the same epoch; so that we find, at the beginning of the
Victorian era, all the party watchwords which are still active in the political
arena.
The leading events in the earlier months of 1839 were the occupation of
Aden, on the 20th of January, by the troops of the East India Company; the
opening of Parliament by the Queen in person on the 5th of February; and the
arrest by the Chinese Government, on the 7th of April, of Captain Elliot, the
superintendent of British trade in China, who was compelled to deliver up
opium to the value of £3,000,000. Aden is a town and harbour at the south-
western extremity of Arabia. It was at that time a miserable collection of mud
huts, containing not more than six hundred inhabitants, but is now, under
English rule, a flourishing and populous place of trade, a coaling-station of the
Anglo-Indian mails, and a singularly convenient position for communication
with Asia and Africa. A British merchant-vessel having been shipwrecked off
the coast of Aden, the barbarian natives of which plundered and ill-used the
crew, a war-ship was despatched from Bombay in 1838, to oblige the reigning
Sultan (a half-savage potentate) to make restitution. It is evident, however, that
the East Indian authorities were rather glad of the incident, since it gave them a
much-desired pretext for impressing on the petty sovereign of the country—
with that persuasiveness which the presence of a ship-of-war so greatly
facilitates—the desirability (from our point of view) of ceding Aden and the
adjacent lands to the English. The Sultan agreed to the proposal, but afterwards
endeavoured to break his promise, when he was compelled by force to submit.
Affairs of this nature have always their questionable side; but the Chinese
war was much worse. An English factory was established at Canton in 1680,
and several were in existence in 1839. A factory, in the Anglo-Indian sense of
the word, is not a place of manufacture, but a place of trade. One of the
principal trades we pursued at Canton was the trade in opium, which, having
been grown in India, was smuggled into China, in defiance of the express
prohibition of the Imperial Government. The use of opium ruined the health,
and corrupted the whole moral nature, of innumerable Chinamen; but the
culture and exportation of the poisonous drug yielded a large revenue to the
Indian Government, as well as a great profit to the traders; and the reasonable
wishes of the Chinese authorities were therefore to be disregarded. Frequent
dissensions arose in consequence; and at length, in 1839, matters came to a
crisis with the arrest of Captain Elliot, and the seizure of the opium over which
he had control. A naval war, ultimately supported by a military force, soon
afterwards broke out between England and China, and lasted, with brief

interruptions, until the 29th of August, 1842, when a treaty of peace was
concluded at Nankin, the Imperial sanction of which was received on the 15th
of September. Amicable relations were thus re-established for a few years; but
at a later period hostilities again broke out, owing to repeated
misunderstandings between the British authorities and the Chinese
Government. By the Treaty of 1842 (the formal ratifications of which were
exchanged between the Emperor and Queen Victoria on the 22nd of July,
1843), it was provided that Amoy, Foochow, Ningpo, and Shanghae, should, in
addition to Canton, be thrown open to the British, who were permitted to
maintain a consul at each of the five ports; and that the island of Hong-Kong
should belong in perpetuity to England. We had succeeded by virtue of
superior force; yet such triumphs yield nothing but a feeling of shame to any
well-informed

THE COUNCIL CHAMBER, ST. JAMES’S PALACE.
Englishman whose mind is not vitiated by false reasoning or self-interest.
The Chinese fought in defence of their cities with a heroism which would have
called forth the generous praises of Plutarch; and the pitiable spectacle of brave
men slaying their wives and children, and then themselves, rather than fall into

the hands of the enemy, should have burnt like red-hot iron into the
consciences of the opium-mongers who provoked the war.
These were matters in which the Queen was not immediately concerned,
though it would be unfitting to omit them from any account of her reign. But a
complication had arisen in Jamaica which led to a Ministerial crisis in England,
involving points of constitutional practice that were very important to her
Majesty’s position. Slavery had been abolished in Jamaica in the year 1834;
but the troubles inseparable from that detestable system did not cease with its
abrogation. The planters continued to be insolent and cruel. They evaded the
new arrangements in every way they could, and placed themselves in
systematic opposition to the Governors sent out from England, whose duty it
was to see the laws enforced. The House of Assembly defied the Imperial
Government, and ultimately refused to provide for the executive needs of the
island until they were allowed to have their own way in all things. On the other
hand, it is very probable that the negroes were often indolent, and sometimes
presumptuous; though nothing is more surprising than the temper and self-
control exhibited by the poor blacks on finding themselves suddenly invested
with liberty. The Jamaica embroilment was made all the worse by the
imprudence of Lord Sligo, who, while acting as Governor in 1836, committed
a gross violation of the privileges of the Assembly. He was compelled by the
Home Government to apologise, and soon afterwards gave place to Sir Lionel
Smith, who, after a brief period of popularity, became as much at issue with the
Assembly as his predecessors. The representative body refused to pass the
most necessary laws, and expressed the greatest indignation at a Bill,
sanctioned by the Imperial Parliament, for the regulation of prisons in Jamaica,
where many cruelties were inflicted on the negroes. Nor was this all; for the
unfortunate men of colour were frequently turned out of house and home,
together with their families, and left to starve—a fate not absolutely
impossible, even in the genial climate of a West India island. The state of
things was becoming intolerable, and the Government of Lord Melbourne
struck a venturesome blow.
A proposal was brought before Parliament in 1839 to suspend the
constitution of Jamaica for five years, and to substitute during that period a
provisional government appointed by the Home authorities. However
regrettable in itself, the measure seems to have been justified by the
circumstances; but the weakness of the Government invited attack on so
favourable an opportunity for creating odium. The majority of twelve with
which they commenced the new Parliament had by this time fallen even lower,

and there was enough to say against their Jamaica policy to give the
Opposition an excellent chance of success. The measure was indeed carried by
a majority of five at the sitting of May 6th; but this was equivalent to a defeat,
and the Ministry at once resigned. The announcement of their resolution was
made on the 7th of May, and, on her Majesty sending for the Duke of
Wellington on the 8th, she was advised by him to entrust the formation of a
new Cabinet to Sir Robert Peel. Accepting this counsel, the Queen commanded
the attendance of that statesman at Buckingham Palace, but at the outset
encountered him with the discouraging remark that she was much grieved to
part with her late Ministers, whose conduct she entirely approved. She added,
however, that she felt the step was necessary; that her first object was the good
of the country; that she had perfect confidence in Sir Robert, and would give
him every assistance in her power in carrying on the Government. Nothing was
said on that occasion about the difficulty which afterwards arose, and the
composition of the Cabinet proceeded without any material obstruction.
The next day, however, while talking over matters with his intended
colleagues, Sir Robert Peel became for the first time aware that the person of
the Queen was surrounded by ladies closely related to the Whig statesmen
recently in office. This was very naturally considered as involving a special
peril to the new Ministry; for, when it was remembered that the Queen had an
avowed partiality for the ideas and political conduct of Lord Melbourne, it
seemed almost inevitable that ladies so intimately connected with the
Melbourne Government would use their position about her Majesty to
prejudice and embarrass the incomers. In consequence of these apprehensions,
Sir Robert Peel brought the subject before the notice of the sovereign on the
same day (May 9th), and stated that, while no change would be required in any
of the appointments below the rank of a Lady of the Bedchamber, he should
expect that all of the higher class would at once resign. If such should not be
the case, he should propose a change, although he thought that in some
instances the absence of political feeling might render any alteration
unnecessary. On the 10th of May, her Majesty wrote to the Conservative
leader:—“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 which is
repugnant to her feelings.” A few hours later, Sir Robert addressed a
communication to the Queen, relinquishing his attempt to form a Government,
and recapitulating the circumstances which, in his judgment, rendered that
attempt impracticable.

It is difficult to come to any other conclusion than that Sir Robert Peel was
right in the view which he took of this matter. He could not have carried on the
administration of the country under a perpetual liability to backstairs intrigues.
Besides, it was the opinion of very high authorities on constitutional law that
the appointments of the Royal Household are State appointments, and therefore
dependent on the Ministry of the day. Lord Melbourne and Lord John Russell,
however, advised her Majesty to the contrary, and it was the members of the
late Government, sitting in council by a questionable stretch of powers that
were then merely provisional, who arranged the terms of the letter which the
Queen addressed to Sir Robert Peel on the 10th of May. The leader of the
Conservatives became for a few days the most unpopular man in England. It
was supposed by the Queen, and rather sedulously spread abroad by the
Melbourne party, that Peel desired to remove all her personal friends and
familiar attendants; but, as we have seen, this was far from being the case. The
Whigs endeavoured to create a factitious sentiment on behalf of the Queen by
stating that the ladies whose dismissal Peel demanded were “the friends of her
Majesty’s youth;” whereas they appear to have been scarcely known to her
until their appointment at the beginning of the new reign. That appointment
was made on purely political grounds, and the Duchess of Kent was not
consulted in the matter. The facts were afterwards made clear by the statesman
chiefly concerned; but a great deal of unmerited odium had been incurred, and,
in particular, Daniel O’Connell and Feargus O’Connor denounced Sir Robert
in unmeasured language, while pouring out fulsome eulogies on the sovereign
whose lawful authority they were a few years later to dispute. When the truth
became known, a strong reaction set in, and there can be no doubt that what
was called the Bedchamber affair was one of the causes of that temporary
unpopularity of the Queen to which we have before adverted.
The Melbourne Government resumed office on the 11th of May, and lost no
time in adopting a minute in the following terms:—“Her Majesty’s confidential
servants, having taken into consideration the letter addressed by her Majesty to
Sir Robert Peel on the 10th of May, and the reply of Sir Robert Peel of the
same day, are of opinion that, for the purpose of giving to the Administration
that character of efficiency and stability, and those marks of the constitutional
support of the Crown, which are required to enable it to act usefully to the
public service, it is reasonable that the great officers of the Court, and
situations in the Household held by Members of Parliament, should be
included in the political arrangements made in a change in the Administration;
but they are not of opinion that a similar principle should be applied or

extended to the offices held by ladies in her Majesty’s Household.” Two years
later (at the suggestion of Prince Albert), the question was settled by a
compromise which substantially conceded what Sir Robert Peel had required.
The restored Whigs introduced another Jamaica Bill, of a less stringent
character, which they carried with the assistance, and under the correction, of
the Tories; and the session closed in the midst of general distraction, and the
errors of a feeble rule.

COBURG. (After a Sketch by Prince Albert.)

CHAPTER IV.

COURTSHIP AND MARRIAGE.

English Chartism in the Summer of 1839—Riots in Birmingham—Principal Leaders of the Chartist
Party—Excesses of the Artisans in Various Parts of Great Britain and Ireland—Chartist Rising at
Newport, Monmouthshire—Conviction of Frost, Williams, and Jones—The Queen and Prince Albert
—Early Life of the Prince—His Engaging Qualities—Desire of King Leopold to Effect a
Matrimonial Engagement between Prince Albert and the Princess Victoria—First Visit of the Former
to England—His Studies in Germany—Informal Understanding between Prince Albert and Queen
Victoria—Difficulties of the Case—The Prince’s View of the Matter in the Autumn of 1839—
Second Visit to England, and Formal Betrothal—Letter of Baron Stockmar on the Subject—
Announcement of the Royal Marriage to the Privy Council and to Parliament—The Appointment of
the Prince’s Household—Subjects of Difficulty and Dissension—Question of the Prince’s Religion
—Reduction of his Annuity by a Vote of the House of Commons—Progress from Gotha to England,
and Reception at Buckingham Palace—Marriage of Prince Albert to the Queen at the Chapel Royal,
St. James’s.

An event of peculiar interest to her Majesty, and almost equally to the nation at
large, took place in the second half of 1839; but, before relating the
circumstances attending the Queen’s engagement to Prince Albert, it will be
desirable to pass in rapid review the state of the country at that period—a state
which might well have persuaded a young female sovereign of the need of
sharing her responsibilities with one of the stronger sex. The Government, as
we have seen, was extremely weak; Ireland, as usual, was giving the utmost
trouble; the Colonies were agitated; and England itself was almost on the brink
of revolution, owing to the distress existing among the labouring classes, and
the incitements of the Chartists. The last of these dangers was the greatest of
all. Hunger was preaching insurrection to thousands and tens of thousands of
the poor and humble all over the kingdom; some few designing men, and
scores of others who, however mistaken in their methods, were sincere and
even noble in their aims, were thrusting the pike and the torch into the hands of
maddened operatives; and the authorities, for a time, seemed paralysed. On the
14th of June, Mr. Attwood, Member for Birmingham, presented to the House a
Chartist petition, signed, it was said, by 1,280,000 persons, and adopted at five
hundred public meetings. It was at any rate sufficiently heavy to task the
strength of twelve men to carry it out of the House; yet when Mr. Attwood, on
the 12th of July, brought forward a motion to submit the grievances described
in the petition to a select committee, he could obtain only forty-six votes,
against 235 on the adverse side. On the 4th of July, a Chartist riot broke out in

Birmingham, during which some policemen, sent from London, were severely
handled. It was found necessary to call out the military, and for a time the
disturbance seemed at an end. But on the 15th of the same month a much
worse rising filled the whole town with consternation. Shops were sacked,
houses set on fire in several localities, and the firemen obstructed and menaced
in their attempts to extinguish the flames. Property was destroyed to the
amount of nearly £50,000, and the vicinity which suffered most was afterwards
described by the Duke of Wellington as presenting a worse appearance than
that of a city taken by storm.
It was believed by superficial thinkers that these excesses would prove the
death of Chartism; and, under this impression, the Attorney-General, Sir John
Campbell, afterwards Lord Chief Justice of England, made a speech at a public
dinner at Edinburgh on the 24th of October. He even spoke of Chartism as a
thing already extinguished, and considered that the punishment of the rioters
had brought the whole matter to an end. But the movement was served by
some men of zeal, earnestness, and intellectual capacity, and it had aroused the
deepest feelings of countless men and women who had no voice in the
government of the country, and who undoubtedly suffered in divers ways. One
of the principal leaders of the party, but by no means one of the wisest, was the
Irishman, Feargus O’Connor—an agitator by taste and profession, who
nevertheless claimed to be descended from the old kings of Ireland. There were
others who said that he was the grandson of one Conyers, an Essex farmer who
settled in the sister island, and whose son thought it prudent to Hibernicise his
name. If so, the redoubtable Feargus was not so Irish as he seemed; but,
however this may have been, he preferred to throw himself into the vortex of
English agitation, leaving the Irish work to O’Connell. More reasonable, more
argumentative, and more profoundly sincere, were Thomas Cooper, a poet of
some power and passion; Henry Vincent, an effective lecturer; and Ernest
Jones, a writer for the periodical press. These were all men of decided ability;
and their advocacy of Chartist principles gave a more solid character to what
might otherwise have passed off in effervescence.
On the other hand, it is not to be denied that the working classes, maddened
by sufferings which their ignorance often led them to impute to wrong causes,
committed many deplorable and guilty actions. At the direct incentive of the
Trades-Unions, the factory hands sent threatening letters to the masters, fired
the mills, made murderous attacks on such of their fellow-workmen as were
willing to serve for lower wages, destroyed valuable machinery, and kept a
large part of England, Scotland, and Ireland in perpetual terror. Chartism, by its

assertion of political principles, whether right or wrong, did a certain amount
of good, by giving another direction to all this turbulent socialism. Yet
Chartism itself had its excesses, and, after the riots at Birmingham and
elsewhere, the Government became alarmed. There were physical-force
Chartists as well as moral-force Chartists; and at first the former were the more
prevailing. The manufacturing districts were almost in a state of rebellion
when, in the autumn of 1839, Henry Vincent was imprisoned at Newport,
Monmouthshire, for delivering seditious speeches. There was at that time in
Newport a respectable tradesman named John Frost, who had until recently
been a magistrate of the borough, but whose use of intemperate language at a
public meeting had caused his removal from the post. This dangerous egotist,
or enthusiast, whichever he may have been, determined on making a bold
attempt to rescue Vincent. He collected a vast body of armed men, marched
seven thousand into the town on the 4th of November, while a great many
more remained on the surrounding hills, and proceeded to the Westgate Hotel,
where the magistrates were sitting.
The authorities knew something of what was about to happen, and had
made as much preparation as they could. Thirty soldiers and some special
constables were assembled in the building, and made a good defence. Frost’s
men fired into the hotel, and wounded the Mayor, Mr. Phillips, together with
several others. The soldiers returned the fire, killed and wounded a good many,
and struck such terror into the rest that, with the want of spirit usually
displayed by English mobs, they fled in confusion, notwithstanding their
immense superiority in numbers. Frost was soon arrested, together with two
other ringleaders, named Williams and Jones, and some of their followers.
They were tried in January, 1840, on a charge of high treason, it being evident
that, over and above the rescue of Vincent, the conspirators intended to form a
junction with the malcontents of Birmingham and other large manufacturing
towns, and thus create a general rising. The three leaders were found guilty,
and sentenced to death; but, owing to some informality in the proceedings, this
was afterwards commuted to transportation for life, and even the milder
punishment was subsequently curtailed. An amnesty having been granted to
Frost, Williams, and Jones, on the 3rd of May, 1856, they returned to England
in the September of that year, to find everything wonderfully altered since they
left. Other Chartist risings took place in the latter part of 1839 and the
beginning of 1840, or were nipped in the bud by the vigilance of the
authorities. The country was in a state of seething discontent, and it says much

for the mingled leniency and firmness of the Government that the army was
not called upon to suppress an insurrection.
While the working classes of Great Britain were thus starving and
conspiring, and while the aristocracy (in the late summer of 1839) were
amusing themselves with the theatrical jousts of the Eglintoun Tournament, her
Majesty was advancing towards the most important event of her personal life.
Her affection for her cousin, Prince Albert of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha, dated
back some years; but it was not until 1839 that a matrimonial alliance was
effected. The Prince was the second son of Duke Ernest I. of Saxe-Coburg-
Saalfeld (brother of the Duchess of Kent), and of his wife, the Princess Louise,
daughter of the Duke of Saxe-Gotha-Altenburg. He was born at the Rosenau (a
summer residence of his father, situated about four miles from Coburg) on the
26th of August, 1819. The future husband of the Queen was thus about a
quarter of a year younger than herself; and at the time of the formal
engagement he was but a youth of twenty. From his childhood he had given
proof of an excellent disposition, and, as he gained in years, he became
extremely intelligent and studious. It is easy to flatter a Prince, and many
tongues are always ready to perform the task. But it seems to be the absolute
truth to say of Prince Albert that his nature was manly, sincere, and
affectionate; that his life was blameless and discreet; and that his intellect and
acquirements were remarkable, even at an early age. Added to this, he was
graced with physical beauty and pleasing manners; so that in more ways than
one he attracted the attention of many observers.
When, in 1836, it became evident that the Princess Victoria must, in all
human probability, succeed to the British throne, her uncle, King Leopold, was
very desirous of effecting a marriage between his niece and his nephew. He
well knew how terrible would be the weight of Imperial sovereignty on the
head of a young, inexperienced girl, and he wished to lighten the burden by the
constant advice and guidance of a conscientious husband. On this subject lie
consulted with his valued friend and private adviser, Baron von Stockmar, a
man of great judgment and experience, and of a proportionate honesty and
independence. Stockmar thought well of the young Prince, but would not
commit himself to a positive opinion until he had seen more of him. A visit to
Kensington Palace was subsequently arranged with the Duchess of Kent, and
Prince Albert came to England, with his father and brother, in May, 1836. This
was his first acquaintance with the country which he was afterwards to regard
as almost his own; and it laid the foundations of the subsequent union. The
Prince, it was obvious, had made a very favourable impression on the Princess.

How far the former was affected could not as yet be ascertained; but he knew
that the marriage was considered desirable, and he must of necessity have been
flattered by the possibility of such a future. About the same period, King
Leopold made his niece aware of his wishes on the subject, and the answer of
the Princess showed that his hopes were also her own.
During the next few years, Prince Albert pursued his studies in Germany,

PRINCE ALBERT.
chiefly at the University of Bonn. After keeping three terms there, and earning
the highest praises from the several professors, he left in September, 1838, and
in the ensuing months paid visits to Switzerland and Italy. Returning to his own
country in the early summer of 1839, he was formally declared of age a little
before the completion of his twentieth year. The Prince had all along continued
to take a great interest in his cousin, and many were the rumours, both in
Germany and England, that he was her affianced husband. But the statement
was premature, for nothing had been settled as yet. Still, though there was no
formal engagement, it came to be gradually understood that the English Queen
and the young Saxon Prince stood in a certain relation of mutual fidelity,
though not of an absolutely binding order. William IV. had always been greatly
opposed to the contemplated match, and formed various schemes for his
niece’s marriage, the most favoured of which had Prince Alexander of the
Netherlands for its object. But there was now no hindrance in the way of the

Queen’s wishes, and everything conspired towards one result. The Dowager
Queen Adelaide subsequently told her illustrious relative that the King would
never have attempted to influence his niece’s affections, had he known they
were bestowed in any particular quarter. Yet a disagreeable impression had
been produced, which could not be entirely obliterated at a later period.
Attached as she was to the Prince, the Queen desired to postpone the
marriage for a few years, partly because of her cousin’s extreme youth. The
visit of Albert to Windsor Castle in October, 1839, however, decided the
matter. It was indeed the desire and intention of the Prince himself to come to a
definite understanding on the question. He considered, not unreasonably, that if
he was to keep himself free, and to decline any other career which might seem
likely, he ought to have some positive assurance that the engagement, of which
so much had been said, would really be carried out. He even admitted in after
life that he was not without some fear lest the Queen should be playing on his
feelings. It must be recollected, however, that the position of her Majesty, as a
sovereign, from whom the first advances must proceed, and yet as a woman,
from whom a certain reserve is expected, was one of great difficulty. In the
autumn of 1839, the Prince had resolved to declare himself free, if further
postponement were required; but the course of events made it quite
unnecessary that he should speak to any such effect. Her Majesty was unable to
resist the combined force of the young Prince’s good looks and fascinating
manners. All previous hesitation disappeared, and, on the 14th of October, she
informed Lord Melbourne of her intention. The Premier, we are told, showed
the greatest satisfaction at the announcement, adding the expression of his
conviction that it would not only make the Queen’s position more comfortable,
but would be well received by the country, which was anxious for her
marriage.[8] “A woman,” he observed, “cannot stand alone for any time, in
whatever position she may be.” On the following day, an understanding was
come to between the parties chiefly concerned, and all that remained was the
execution of the formal arrangements. A month later (November 14th), the
Prince and his elder brother left London for Wiesbaden, where they found the
King of the Belgians and Baron Stockmar awaiting them. This was a time of
great letter-writing, and a communication from Stockmar to the Baroness
Lehzen (one of the governesses of the Princess Victoria), dated December 15th,
1839, is particularly noticeable.
“With sincere pleasure,” writes the Baron, “I assure you, the more I see of
the Prince, the better I esteem and like him. His intellect is so sound and clear,
his nature so unspoiled, so childlike, so predisposed to goodness as well as

truth, that only two external elements will be required to make of him a truly
distinguished Prince. The first of these will be the opportunity to acquire a
proper knowledge of men and of the world; the second will be intercourse with
Englishmen of experience, culture, and integrity, by whom he may be made
thoroughly conversant with their nation and constitution.... As regards his
future relation to the Queen, I have a confident hope that they will make each
other happy by mutual love, confidence, and esteem. As I have known the
Queen, she was always quick and acute in her perceptions; straightforward,
moreover, of singular purity of heart, without a trace of vanity or pretension.
She will consequently do full justice to the Prince’s head and heart; and, if this
be so, and the Prince be really loved by the Queen, and recognised for what he
is, then his position will be right in the main, especially if he manage at the
same time to secure the good will of the nation. Of course he will have storms
to encounter, and disagreeables, like other people, especially those of exalted
rank. But, if he really possess the love of the Queen and the respect of the
nation, I will answer for it, that after every storm he will come safely into port.
You will therefore have my entire approval, if you think the best course is, to
leave him to his own clear head, his sound feeling, and excellent disposition.”
It was the original intention of the Queen to make the first notification of
her contemplated marriage to Parliament; but she afterwards considered that
the Privy Council was the fittest body for the purpose. The Council met on the
23rd of November at Buckingham Palace—an unusually large assemblage of
eighty-three members. Wearing a bracelet with the Prince’s portrait—which, as
she subsequently recorded in her Journal, “seemed to give her courage”—her
Majesty read to the Council a declaration of her intention to contract a union,
of which she declared her belief that it would at once secure her domestic
felicity, and serve the interests of her country. Prince Albert of Saxe-Coburg
and Gotha was indicated as the object of her choice; and the declaration
concluded with the words:—“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.” When the Queen had finished
reading, Lord Lansdowne rose, and asked, in the name of the Council, that her
Majesty’s welcome communication might be printed. Leave was given, and the
declaration was published in the next Gazette, whence it was copied into the
newspapers. Some intelligence of the statement to be made to the Privy
Council had found its way into the public mind; and, on leaving the Palace, her
Majesty was cheered with more than usual warmth.

The announcement to the Legislature was made in the Queen’s Speech at
the opening of the next session, January 16th, 1840. At the same time, her
Majesty expressed her conviction that Parliament would provide for such an
establishment as might appear suitable to the rank of the Prince and the dignity
of the Crown. In the meanwhile, some difficulties had arisen with regard to
various matters of detail. The settlement of the Prince’s household was no very
easy business. With admirable sense, Albert wrote to her Majesty on the

THE MARQUIS OF LANSDOWNE.
10th of December, 1839:—“I should wish particularly that the selection
should be made without regard to politics, for, if I am really to keep myself
free from all parties, my people must not belong exclusively to one side. Above
all, these appointments should not be mere ‘party rewards,’ but they should
possess some other recommendation, besides that of political connection. Let
the men be either of very high rank, or very accomplished, or very clever, or
persons who have performed important services for England. It is very
necessary they should be chosen from both sides—the same number of Whigs
as of Tories; and, above all, it is my wish that they should be men well
educated and of high character, who, as I have said, shall have already
distinguished themselves in their several

INTERIOR OF THE CHAPEL ROYAL, ST.
JAMES’S.
positions, whether it be in the army or navy, or the scientific world. I am
satisfied you will look upon this matter precisely as I do, and I shall be much
pleased if you will communicate what I have said to Lord Melbourne, so that
he may be fully aware of my views.”
These most reasonable suggestions were disregarded, and, without any
consultation of the Prince’s wishes on a matter which closely concerned
himself, the post of Private Secretary was conferred on Mr. Anson, who had
long discharged the same functions for the Premier. This was evidently another
attempt of the Whig Ministry to obtain a permanent influence over the Palace.
Prince Albert protested against the appointment, only to be told that the matter
had gone too far for withdrawal. Fortunately, however, Mr. Anson showed, in
the discharge of his duties, an entire absence of party predilections, together
with many positive qualities which won the high esteem of the Prince. A
question much debated at the time was as to whether the Queen’s husband
should be made a peer of the realm, as had been done in the case of Queen
Anne’s consort, Prince George of Denmark; but Prince Albert himself resisted
the suggestion, which was certainly one of very questionable wisdom. The

consideration of precedence was also a knotty point. The Queen desired that
her husband should take precedence immediately after herself; but her uncle,
the King of Hanover, refused to waive his right, and the Duke of Wellington,
speaking on behalf of the Tory peers, declined to consent. The question was
afterwards withdrawn from the Naturalisation Bill to which it had been
attached, and was settled by an exercise of the Royal Prerogative, which, as a
species of compromise, both political parties accepted. By letters patent, issued
on the 5th of March, 1840, it was provided that the Prince should thenceforth,
“upon all occasions, and in all meetings, except when otherwise provided by
Act of Parliament, have, hold, and enjoy, place, pre-eminence, and precedence
next to her Majesty.”
There were worse subjects of dissension, however, than those already
mentioned. No sooner was the announcement of the Royal marriage made
public than sinister rumours arose that the Prince was a Roman Catholic.
Others averred that he was an infidel. But the most damaging because the most
definite charge was that of being a Papist; and this was strengthened by the
singular and very careless omission of any reference to the Prince’s religion in
the declaration to the Privy Council and to Parliament. King Leopold of
Belgium saw the imprudence of giving the least opportunity for doubt or cavil;
but Ministers would not or could not recognise the danger. Debates took place
in both Houses in the discussion on the Address, and, in the House of Lords,
the Duke of Wellington carried a motion for introducing the word “Protestant”
into the Congratulatory Address to the Queen. It was on this occasion that Lord
Brougham, referring to some observations of Lord Melbourne, made use of the
memorable words:—“I may remark that my noble friend 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.” The
Protestantism of Prince Albert was in truth well known, and so was that of his
family, with but few exceptions. In a letter to the Queen, dated December 7th,
1839, the Prince said:—“There has not been a single Catholic Princess
introduced into the Coburg family since the appearance of Luther in 1521.
Moreover, the Elector, Frederick the Wise of Saxony, was the very first
Protestant [Protestant Prince?] that ever lived.” Still, it was remiss of the
Government not to make the desired declaration, especially as some of the
Prince’s relatives had become Romanists. People generally have but little
historic knowledge; and indeed the subject was one which history did not much
avail to settle.

While the Lords were raising a question as to the Protestantism of the
Prince, and making difficulties in the matter of precedency, the Commons were
considering the position of the new-comer from a financial point of view. On
the 24th of January, 1840, Lord John Russell moved “that her Majesty be
enabled to grant an annual sum of £50,000 out of the Consolidated Fund for a
provision to Prince Albert, to commence on the day of his marriage with her
Majesty, and to continue during his life.” Three days after, Mr. Joseph Hume,
faithful to his character as a guardian of the public purse, moved as an
amendment that £21,000, instead of £50,000, be voted annually to Prince
Albert. He would even have preferred that no grant whatever should be made
to the Prince during her Majesty’s lifetime; but in this respect he had yielded to
the wishes of his friends. Mr. Hume asked what was to be done with such a
sum as the Government proposed to grant, and courteously remarked that Lord
John Russell must know the danger of setting a young man down in London
with so much money in his pockets. The amendment was lost by 305 votes
against 38—a majority so enormous that it might well have discouraged any
further opposition. Yet, on the very same evening, Colonel Sibthorp, a member
of the Tory Opposition, moved that £30,000 should be the extent of the
annuity, and, being supported by nearly all the Conservatives, as well as by the
Radicals, and even some of the Whigs, he carried his proposal by 262 votes
against 158. There was in truth a good deal to be said in favour of the smaller
sum, though the suggestion roused Lord John Russell almost to fury, as if an
actual personal affront to the Queen were intended. The country was in great
distress; agriculture and manufactures were alike suffering; the poverty of large
classes was extreme; taxation was oppressively heavy; and the revenue showed
an ever-increasing deficit. Under these circumstances, the reduction of the
annuity was essentially just and fair. The matter was decided on the 27th of
January—the same day that the Government were so strenuously resisted in the
House of Lords on the Precedency question as to see the necessity of
separating it from the Naturalisation Bill. These circumstances induced in
Prince Albert, for a short time, a fear lest his marriage to the Queen would not
be popular with the English people; but he was soon undeceived on this point
by the representations of his friends in England.
On the day following Colonel Sibthorp’s successful amendment with
respect to the annuity, the Prince, accompanied by Lord Torrington and
Colonel (afterwards General) Grey, who had been sent to invest him with the
insignia of the Garter, and conduct him ceremoniously to England, set out from
Gotha, accompanied by his father and brother. In the course of the journey,

King Leopold was visited at Brussels, and the party then proceeded to Calais,
where they were met by Lord Clarence Paget, commanding the Firebrand, in
which the Prince and his companions were conveyed to the shores of Kent.
They landed at Dover on the 6th of February, and met with a very hearty
reception. This was repeated at Canterbury, and at every other place along the
line of route,

COURTYARD OF ST. JAMES’S PALACE.
while at London the enthusiasm was marked and unmistakable. Buckingham
Palace was reached on the afternoon of February 8th, when the Prince found
her Majesty and the Duchess of Kent waiting at the door to greet him. In a little
while, the Lord Chancellor administered the oath of naturalisation, and a
banquet followed in the evening. The Prince was fairly settled in his new
home.
The marriage was celebrated in the Chapel Royal, St. James’s, on the 10th
of February, 1840. An unusually large crowd assembled in St. James’s Park and
its approaches, notwithstanding the severity of the weather, which did not
become sunny until after the return of the bridal party from the chapel. Prince
Albert wore the uniform of a British Field Marshal, with the insignia of the
Garter, the jewels of which had been presented to him by the Queen. On one
side of the carriage sat the Prince’s father, on the other side his brother; both in
uniform. A squadron of Life Guards formed the escort to the chapel, and the
bridegroom was loudly cheered. Her Majesty soon afterwards

DUKE ERNEST, OF SAXE COBURG-GOTHA, PRINCE
ALBERT’S BROTHER.
followed, with the Duchesses of Kent and Sutherland. She looked pale and
anxious, but smiled every now and then at little incidents occurring among the
crowd. The somewhat dusky old palace was brightened up for the occasion by
temporary decorations, and still more by the presence of splendidly-dressed
ladies, picturesque officials, gentlemen-at-arms, yeomen of the guard, heralds,
pages, and cuirassiers. The altar of the Chapel Royal was set out with a great
deal of gold plate, and four State chairs were provided for the Queen, Prince
Albert, the Queen Dowager (Adelaide), and the Duchess of Kent. The
ceremony was performed by the Archbishops of Canterbury and York, and the
Bishop of London. All present admired the calm grace and dignified
deportment of the Prince; but of course the great object of interest was the
Queen herself. She looked excited and nervous, and, according to a letter from
the Dowager Lady Lyttelton (one of the ladies-in-waiting), her eyes were
swollen with tears, although great happiness appeared in her countenance. The
Duchess of Kent is said to have been disconsolate and distressed; while the
Duke of Sussex, who gave away the bride, was in the gayest spirits. The John
Bull—a high Tory journal, edited by Theodore Hook, the motto of which was,

“For God, the Sovereign, and the People!”—remarked that the Duke of Sussex
was always ready to give away what did not belong to him. It should be
understood that the sovereign whom Hook set up his paper to champion was
George IV., and that therefore it was no great inconsistency to insult a Royal
Duke who was also a Liberal, and the uncle of a Liberal monarch. The Royal
Family, as we have seen, were not very popular with the Tories of that date. At
the Queen’s marriage, only two Conservative peers were present: the Duke of
Wellington and Lord Liverpool.[9]
As her Majesty was returning to Buckingham Palace, it was observed that
the paleness and anxiety of the morning had given place to a bright flush, and a
more unrestrained and joyous manner. After the wedding breakfast, the newly-
married couple left for Windsor, on reaching which they found the whole town
illuminated. A cordial reception from the residents, and from the Eton boys,
sufficiently declared the sentiment of affectionate respect with which the
Queen and Prince were regarded in the Royal Borough.

MARRIAGE OF QUEEN VICTORIA. (See p. 70.)
(After the Painting by Sir George Hayter, R.A.)

CHAPTER V.

THE FIRST YEAR OF MARRIED LIFE.

Difficulties of the Early Married Life of Prince Albert—His Unpopularity in Certain Quarters—
Attempt to Suppress Duelling in the Army—Position of the Prince in the Royal Household—Want
of Supervision in the Management of the Palace—Introduction of Reforms, on the Initiative of
Prince Albert—Duties Assumed by the Prince—Domestic Life—Post Office Reform—Defective
State of the Service Previous to 1840—Rowland Hill and the Penny Post—Opposition to the New
Scheme—Introduction of the Lower Rate of Postage—General Features and Effects of the Change
—Measure for the Protection of Children Employed in Chimney-sweeping—Attempt of Edward
Oxford to Shoot the Queen—Appointment of Prince Albert as Regent under certain Eventualities—
Life and Studies at Windsor—Birth of the Princess Royal—Devotion of the Prince to her Majesty—
Christmas at Windsor (1840)—Christening of the Princess—Accident to Prince Albert—The Eastern
Question: Turkey and Egypt—Removal of the Body of Napoleon I. from St. Helena to Paris—Rise
and Development of the Agitation for Free Trade.

Having stayed three days at Windsor Castle, her Majesty and the Prince
returned to Buckingham Palace. On the 28th of February the Duke of Coburg
left for Germany, and his son had now to enter on the ordinary routine of life,
such as life is in that exalted station. The position of the Prince was no doubt
extremely difficult, and at first it appeared almost unbearably irksome. Nothing
could surpass the mutual love and confidence of the newly-wedded pair, and,
as regarded the great mass of the English people, the bridegroom was popular.
But he was scanned with jealous dislike by a large section of the aristocracy;
he had not the particular kind of disposition best fitted for overcoming that
dislike; and some of the incidents which preceded his arrival in England were
certainly of a nature to vex and discourage. On the whole, he bore his
probation well; yet we now know that, in private, he used expressions of
annoyance which showed how deeply he had been wounded. His letter to the
Queen, complaining of the appointment of Mr. Anson as his Private Secretary,
was rather querulous in tone, however just in argument. In another letter to her
Majesty, written from Brussels on the 1st of February, 1840, he spoke of the
vote on Colonel Sibthorp’s amendment with respect to the annuity as “most
unseemly”—which it clearly was not; and in May of the same year he wrote to
his friend Prince Löwenstein that he was “only the husband, and not the master
in the house.” All these opposing facts and feelings boded evil for the future.
In some degree, the very virtues of Prince Albert’s character stood in the
way of his rapidly making friends, though a feeling of respect was not slow in
arising. His manners were reserved and distant, and people mistook for

haughtiness what was nothing more than the disinclination of a reflective and
sequestered nature to enter heartily into the promiscuous and not always very
sincere intercourse of what is called general society. He was considered cold
and ungenial, and it is probable that to some he really was so. To those whom
he truly loved, and whose natures were sympathetic with his own, he could be
a most delightful companion; but this, of course, was no compensation to
courtiers who expected to find in him a facile man of the world, but whose
frivolities repelled and wearied him. In truth, he was something of a formalist,
and formalism is the quality, of all others, which generally makes Englishmen
feel most uneasy. One of his favourite ideas was to promote the abolition of
duelling in the British army by the substitution of courts of arbitration on
questions of personal honour. The Duke of Wellington and other leaders gave
some heed to this proposal; but it had no great prospect of success, and in time
ceased to be talked about. Nevertheless, it must be allowed that the agitation of
this subject by Prince Albert, in 1843, co-operated with other causes to put
down the foolish and wicked practice against which his Royal Highness sought
to make provision. When Queen Victoria ascended the throne, duelling was
frequent. In twelve or thirteen years, it had almost entirely died out, killed by
the ridicule and the awakened moral sense of all reasonable men.
The question of the Prince’s position in the Royal Household was
indisputably one of no little importance. The young husband possessed (as we
find it stated by one well qualified to speak on the subject) “no independent
authority by right of his position, and could exercise none, even within his own
household, without trenching upon the privileges of others, who were not
always disposed to admit of interference. This could scarcely fail to embarrass
his position in the midst of a vast Royal establishment, which had inherited
many of the abuses of former reigns, and where he found much of which he
could not approve, but yet was without the power to rectify. And as behind
every abuse there is always some one interested in maintaining it, he could not
but be aware that he was regarded with no friendly eyes by those who were in
that position, and who naturally dreaded the presence among them of one so
visibly intolerant of worthlessness and incapacity.”[10] The consequence was
that the Prince sometimes found himself in collision with functionaries who
would scarcely allow him any authority whatever, and especially with Madame
Lehzen, then the Private Secretary of the Queen, who seems to have presumed
too much on her Majesty’s affection for her former governess. Confusion and
extravagance, delay and discomfort, reigned within the Palace; the Queen and
the Prince were equally inconvenienced and annoyed; yet, although some

reforms were effected at an earlier period, it was not until 1844 that the system
was radically altered.
There was in fact no master of the Royal dwelling, because there were too
many masters. The control of affairs was divided by the Lord Steward, the
Lord Chamberlain, and the Master of the Horse; but no one of these was
superior to the other two, and each acted in his department with entire
independence. As their position was bound up with that of the Ministry, change
was frequent, and an adverse vote in the House of Commons, on a question
wholly political, would deprive the Queen of servants who were perhaps only
just beginning to understand their work; for the appointments were made solely
on party grounds, and

BUCKINGHAM PALACE—GARDEN FRONT.
without any reference to fitness for the post. The apportionment of functions
and responsibilities was often most bewildering in its nicety and complex
elaboration; so that particular matters would be left without any supervision
whatever, because it was impossible to determine whose business it was to
look after them. Baron Stockmar, who, early in 1841, had drawn up a
Memorandum on the subject at the request of the Queen and Prince Albert,
wrote, with a certain sense of humour in the midst of his grave exposition,
that the Lord Steward found the fuel and laid the fire, while the Lord
Chamberlain lighted it; that, in the same manner, the Lord Chamberlain
provided all the lamps, while it was the duty of the Lord Steward to clean,
trim, and light them. The commonest repairs, such as are required in every
house, could not be executed without the order passing through so many
hands that months frequently elapsed before the desired result could be
effected. The state of things, indeed, was such that Dickens’s Circumlocution
Office can hardly be regarded as an exaggeration.
“As neither the Lord Chamberlain nor the Master of the Horse,” said
Baron Stockmar, “has a regular deputy residing in the Palace, more than
two-thirds of all the male and female servants are left without a master in the
house. They can come and go off duty as they choose; they can remain

absent hours and hours on their days of waiting, or they may commit any
excess or irregularity; there is nobody to observe, to correct, or to reprimand
them. There is no officer responsible for the cleanliness, order, and security
of the rooms and offices throughout the Palace.” The laxity of the system
was so extreme as to be attended by certain very positive dangers. During
the years 1840-41, a young chimney-sweep was more than once discovered
hiding in one of the apartments. “The boy Jones” became the talk of the
town; but the incident was decidedly unpleasant, although the lad does not
seem to have had any evil intent. No such circumstance could have
happened with any proper system of supervision; but of system there was
positively none. Yet it was a matter of the utmost difficulty to bring about a
change in this chaos of incompetence and corruption; and Sir Robert Peel,
when consulted on the subject in 1841, deprecated any reform which should
seem to impair the authority of the great officers of State. Prince Albert,
however, held resolutely to his purpose, and, about the close of 1844, the
heads of the several departments were induced to confer on the Master of the
Household absolute authority over the whole internal economy of the Palace.
From that time forward the Royal dwelling was managed with intelligence
and economy.
In relation to the State the position of the Prince was even more beset
with thorns than in respect of his domestic arrangements. It was impossible
that he should cut himself off from all interest in the great events of the time;
yet he had no place in the Constitution, and it was most necessary that he
should avoid even the semblance of interfering in the politics of the country
on which he had been affiliated. His own idea was to constitute himself the
Private Secretary and confidential adviser of the Queen; and this was the
position which, after a while, he actually filled. He read the foreign
despatches which it is the duty of Government to submit to the sovereign
before sending them out; he wrote notes for the guidance of her Majesty’s
judgment, and in many ways assisted the youth and inexperience of one who
had been called, without much preparation, to the discharge of onerous
duties. The suggestions of the Prince were not seldom accepted by Ministers;
though of course it was necessary to regard them as coming from the Queen,
as, indeed, by adoption they did. The domestic life of this period was
cheered and exalted by reading, by music, by art, and by frequent visits to
the theatre, especially to witness the plays of Shakespeare, then interpreted
by a school of actors who in these days have scarcely any successors.

Occasional visits to Claremont relieved the oppressive monotony of London
existence.
A few weeks before the marriage of Prince Albert, a social and
administrative reform had been begun in Great Britain, which must have
possessed a very deep interest for his humane and liberal mind. For many
years, the Postage system of the country had been in a state wholly
inadequate to the requirements of modern civilisation. When a regular Post
Office was established in the reign of Charles I. (all communication until
then being occasional and precarious), the number of persons who could
read and write was small, and the needs of the public were proportionably
trivial. But in the middle of the nineteenth century it was imperative that the
transmission of letters should be cheap, rapid, and facile. Facile and cheap it
certainly was not, and before the full elaboration of the railway system there
could be no rapidity in the modern sense of the term. Education was
spreading; yet, to relatives and friends divided by a few miles, the expense
of a letter was so great that, in many instances, people forbore from writing
altogether, or resorted to a number of curious and dishonest tricks for
sending and obtaining some sort of intelligence without paying for it. Within
a small radius of Charing Cross, London, letters of moderate weight could be
transmitted for twopence; but beyond these bounds the tariff was so high as
to be prohibitory to all humble folk. The variations in the scale were
determined not merely by distance, but also by the weight, and even the size
of a letter. For transmission between London and Brighton the charge was
eightpence, while nothing could be sent from London to Aberdeen under one
shilling and threepence-halfpenny; and the letters so taxed were not to
exceed a single sheet, or they paid extra. Peers, members of the House of
Commons, and Cabinet Ministers, had the right of “franking,” as the phrase
was; that is, by writing their names on the outsides of letters, whether their
own or those of other persons, they could secure their free conveyance. In
the case of Ministers this privilege was without limits; in the other cases, the
right was confined to a certain proportion of letters in the course of the year.
The system of franking was bad in every way. It deprived the revenue of
what was legitimately its due; it caused a large amount of petty vexation to
the holders of the privilege; it humiliated those who went begging for the
favour; and it spared the very people who were best able to afford the
expenses of the post.

No one requires to be told that, taking the whole mass of the population,
there were but few persons sufficiently intimate with the great ones of the
earth to obtain franks. The less fortunate were therefore driven to expedients
of their own to evade a pressure which they were unable to bear. Illicit
agencies for

PRINCE ALBERT’S MUSIC ROOM, BUCKINGHAM
PALACE.
(From a Photograph by Mr. H. N. King.)
the transmission of letters at a cheaper rate were formed in various parts of
the kingdom, and these were much employed by mercantile and
manufacturing firms, who saved largely by the device. People lower in the
scale exercised their wits in a number of contrivances, which were often
extremely ingenious, and which it is impossible either to defend, or seriously
to accuse. Newspapers were marked with strange dots and other understood
symbols, which conveyed a few general facts from the sender to the
recipient. Sometimes two or three words were written on one of the margins;
but this was very likely to be detected. A much safer plan was to despatch a
blank sheet of paper duly directed, the mere sight of which would
sufficiently assure B, who received, that A, who sent, was alive and well.
The letter could then be at once returned to the postman, on the plea that the
postage could not be afforded. An incident of this nature came under the
observation of Coleridge when wandering about the

MR. (AFTERWARDS SIR) ROWLAND HILL.
Lake district in the days of his early manhood; and there can be little
doubt that the same thing was frequently done in many successive years. The
evils of the Postal system were slightly mitigated by these stratagems, but
only slightly; and, as a rule, the poor were almost entirely deprived of the
knowledge of one another, if fifty miles or so separated the brother from the
sister, or the mother from the son.
Nevertheless, the revenue suffered from the several schemes for evading
the high rates of postage. Between 1815 and 1835 the population of Great
Britain increased thirty per cent.; education had made some progress; and
travelling was so much more common that the stage-coach duty (though the
railway system had begun by the latter year) had increased one hundred and
twenty-eight per cent. Yet during the same time the receipts of the Post
Office underwent no augmentation whatever, if, indeed, they did not fall off.
It is clear, therefore, that the secret and illicit post must have enjoyed a good
deal of patronage, though rather in the middle than the lower class. The
objections to the Postal system were many and glaring. It was needlessly
onerous, the average charge on every letter throughout the United Kingdom
being as much as sixpence-farthing; it encouraged fraud; it hindered the
natural intercommunication of the poor; it was capricious and uncertain in its

operation; and it included a great deal of most offensive spying, to ascertain
whether suspected letters contained more than the regulation number of
pages. Still, owing to the force of habit, it survived years of obloquy, until a
genius arose capable of organising a better method.
Mr. Rowland Hill (subsequently Sir Rowland) was the third son of Mr.
Thomas Wright Hill, of Kidderminster, and afterwards of Birmingham, and
brother of Matthew Davenport Hill, an eminent lawyer, politician, and
reformer, whose name is identified with the more humane treatment of
juvenile offenders. Delicate in health from his childhood, young Rowland
showed a premature genius for figures, and a still greater genius for
organisation. In 1833, when about thirty-eight years of age, he was
appointed Secretary to the South Australian Commission, and was largely
instrumental in founding the colony of South Australia. It was about this
time that his attention was first directed towards the Postal system, and early
in 1837 he published a pamphlet on “Post Office Reform: its Importance and
Practicability.” He had observed that the number of letters passing through
the post bore a ridiculously small proportion to the number of the
population. His mathematical mind induced him to make calculations as to
the cost of conveyance; and he found that the expense of transit on each
individual letter between London and Edinburgh—a distance of four
hundred miles—was not more than the thirty-sixth part of a penny. Indeed,
the cost was but little enhanced by distance; and Mr. Hill therefore came to
the conclusion that, if the rates of postage were reduced to the lowest, if the
despatch of letters were made more frequent, and the speed of conveyance
were increased, the revenue would gain instead of lose, to say nothing of the
social boon.
Starting from his well-ascertained datum, that thirty-six letters could be
carried from London to Edinburgh at a cost of a penny, Mr. Hill strongly
urged the desirability of adopting a uniform rate of postage within the limits
of the United Kingdom. That this rate should not be more than a penny,
followed naturally from the proved facts of the case, and from the obvious
justice of giving the public the advantage of a cheapness which would
actually benefit instead of injuring the revenue. Nevertheless, the opposition
to be encountered proved very serious and harassing. All the persons
engaged in the old system were pledged to resist the new; and it appears to
have been really thought that a Penny Post would entail such difficulties in
its organisation as to be practically impossible. The Postmaster-General,

Lord Lichfield, declared in the House of Lords that the proposed scheme
was the wildest and most extravagant he had ever known. In the opinion of
this official, and of several others, the necessary expenses would be
absolutely overwhelming, while, owing to the immeasurable increase of
correspondence, no building would be large enough to receive the clerks and
the letters. This very argument, however, clearly implied that there was a
public want which the existing system did not supply. On the other hand,
many believed that there would be very little increase in the number of
letters, and that there was, in fact, no real demand for any change whatever.
Some persons, from whom a greater liberality might have been expected,
were as antagonistic to the scheme as if they had been Post Office officials.
The Rev. Sydney Smith, who had been a reformer in his earlier days, but
who was now getting old, spoke of the plan as “nonsensical,” and as
needlessly entailing a loss of a million to the revenue. Rowland Hill,
however, was not a man to be deterred by any amount of difficulty. He had
convinced himself, and ultimately he convinced others, that letters might be
sent to any part of Great Britain and Ireland for the sum of one penny, and
that yet there would be a profit of two hundred per cent. The uniformity of
charge would in itself save a large amount of time and trouble; and if the
postage could be paid in advance, there would be a still further gain in
general convenience. The idea of a penny letter-stamp was suggested to Mr.
Hill by a proposal put forth some years before by Mr. Charles Knight, the
eminent author and publisher, who thought that the best way of collecting a
penny postage on newspapers would be by the use of stamped covers. This
plan was ultimately adopted for letters, and people at the present day, if they
think at all upon the subject, are astonished how their forefathers could have
gone on from year to year without a method at once so cheap, so simple, and
so admirably adapted to the necessities of the case.
As Mr. Hill was not himself a member of Parliament, it was essential to
his scheme that he should get a spokesman or two in that Assembly. He was
well served by Mr. Warburton and Mr. Wallace, who frequently brought the
subject before the attention of the House of Commons. In February, 1838,
Mr. Wallace moved for a select committee to investigate and report upon the
proposed scheme of postal reform; but, as the Government declared that the
matter was under their consideration, the motion was not carried. Public
attention, however, was by this time strongly directed towards the subject,
and numerous petitions were sent up to Parliament from very influential

bodies, praying that the law might be altered. The Melbourne Ministry began
to see that the subject was one which must shortly be taken in hand, whether
in a greater or a less degree. The natural inclination was, of course, to treat it
in the slightest degree possible, and various minor reforms were proposed,
which only showed that the official position was getting insecure, but yet
that there was a strong disinclination to sanction any radical change. At
length, on the 5th of July, 1839, the Chancellor of the Exchequer, in bringing
forward the annual Budget at an unusually late period of the session,
proposed a resolution declaring it to be expedient “to reduce the postage on
letters to one uniform rate of one penny, charged upon every letter of a
weight to be hereafter fixed by law; Parliamentary privileges of franking
being abolished, and official franking strictly regulated; this House pledging
itself at the same time to make good any deficiency of revenue which may
be occasioned by such an alteration in the rates of the existing duties.” The
evidence obtained by a committee of the House had shown the absolute need
and the entire practicability of Rowland Hill’s plan. The demand for the
adoption of that plan was now universal, and the Government could no
longer resist a change which was supported by convincing reasons. The
requisite Act of Parliament was rapidly passed, and the law received the
Queen’s sanction before the end of August.
Nevertheless, there was to be an intermediate period, during which the
charge for postage would be at the rate of fourpence for each letter, half an
ounce in weight, within the entire area of the United Kingdom. This was to
save the Post Office from being deluged by a flood of penny letters, for
which the officials would not be all at once prepared. But on the 10th of
January, 1840, the postage was fixed at the uniform rate of one penny per
letter not exceeding half an ounce in weight—a limit which in 1865 was
widened to one ounce. Mulready, the painter, furnished a design for an
official envelope, which, however, was found to be inconvenient, and was
speedily laid aside. The affixed penny stamp was introduced on the 6th of
May, and the system was then fairly launched—as fairly, that is, as official
jealousy would suffer it to be. Franking was abolished with the introduction
of the new method; and, although the Queen was still entitled to this
privilege, she immediately relinquished it, with that good feeling which has
always distinguished her Majesty’s relations towards her people. The
aristocracy, and others who had enjoyed the invidious right, found even the
penny postage a serious addition to their expenses; but the merchant, the

manufacturer, the tradesman, the middle classes generally, and the poor,
were suddenly invested with a benefit of which they had long been unjustly
deprived, and which proved of the highest value in all the ordinary
transactions of life.
Another social reform in which her Majesty and Prince Albert must have
taken the deepest interest was in some degree associated with the year 1840.
On the 7th of August an Act of Parliament was passed with reference to the
employment of children in the sweeping of chimneys. By the terms of this
Act, it was made unlawful for master-sweeps to take apprentices under
sixteen years of age, and no individual under twenty-one was to ascend a
chimney after July 1st, 1842. The law was made more stringent in 1864; but
in the meanwhile it had done an immense amount of good. The barbarity of
the system it supplanted was great indeed. Boys of tender years, whose
ordinary treatment by their employers was of the roughest kind, were
compelled, often by acts of extreme violence, to ascend chimneys for the
purpose of brushing down the soot. Cases were known in which these poor
little creatures were lost and stifled in the dark, cavernous, and winding
passages which they had to thread. At the

RECEPTION OF THE QUEEN IN HYDE PARK AFTER THE
NEWS OF OXFORD’S ATTEMPT ON HER LIFE.
best, the suffering was great, and entailed diseases of the joints, of the eyes,
and of the respiratory organs. The system was wholly inexcusable, for the
ramoneur, or jointed brush, now in general use, had been known for several
years. It required an Act of Parliament, however, to enforce the introduction

of this machine, and to protect the unfortunate children; though, in a very
few years after the alteration, respectable householders wondered how they
could have tolerated the abominable cruelty to which the climbing-boys
were subjected.
Between the introduction of the new Postal system and the passing of the
Bill for the protection of youthful sweeps, her Majesty had been exposed to a
danger and an affront which she had probably never anticipated, though it
has been repeated several times since. On the 10th of June, 1840, the Queen
was driving up Constitution Hill, in company with Prince Albert, when she
was twice fired at by a pot-boy, seventeen years of age, named Edward
Oxford. Her Majesty turned very pale, and, between the firing of the first
and second shots, rose up in the carriage; but Prince Albert immediately
pulled her down by his side. A pleasing impression was produced at the time
by the thoughtfulness of the Queen in ordering the carriage to be at once
driven to the residence of the Duchess of Kent, that her mother, who might
have heard some rumour of the occurrence, should see that she was safe. On
afterwards driving through Hyde Park, her Majesty had a most enthusiastic
reception from the fashionable company in the Row. She was ultimately
escorted home by a crowd consisting of all classes, and repeated shouts
revealed the cordiality of the public feeling. On the offender being examined
next day before the Privy Council, he said that, although there were many
witnesses against him, they contradicted each other in several important
particulars. It appeared that he belonged to a secret society called “Young
England,” the rules of which prescribed that every member should, when
ordered to attend a meeting, be armed with a brace of loaded pistols and a
sword, and should also be provided with a black crape cap, to cover the face.
This society, however, does not seem to have had any wide ramifications,
and was probably nothing more than an association of foolish young people,
actuated as much by vanity as by malice. On the 10th of July, Oxford was
tried for high treason in its most aggravated form, including an attempt on
the very life of her Majesty. The defence was based on an allegation of
insanity, though there can be little doubt that Oxford was not insane in any
true sense of the word. He was ordered to be kept in a lunatic asylum during
her Majesty’s pleasure; but in 1868 he was set at liberty, on condition of
going abroad. It is a discreditable fact that even members of Parliament
applied for locks of his hair when it was cut off previous to his confinement.
Many persons considered that he ought to have been hanged, and, when

similar attempts were made some two years later, Oxford himself expressed
an opinion that, had he been executed, there would have been no more
shooting at the Queen. In this opinion he was probably right; but the extreme
tenderness of the modern conscience forbade the execution of one whose
criminal folly had, after all, effected no real mischief. After a while, Oxford
seems to have recognised the wickedness of his act, which he attributed to
inordinate vanity; and during his long confinement he learned the art of
graining, and even taught himself some modern languages. His attempt,
however, was a very grave evil, and, even supposing there had been no
bullets in the pistols (as Oxford, perhaps truthfully, alleged), might have
produced serious consequences. “My chief anxiety,” wrote Prince Albert
shortly afterwards, “was lest the fright should have been injurious to the
Queen in her present state.” One good effect was the increased popularity
both of the Queen and of her husband, who were received with genuine
enthusiasm whenever they appeared in public.
The condition of her Majesty in the summer of 1840 rendered it advisable
that a Regency should be appointed, in case of her approaching confinement
terminating in a manner which all would have deplored. The Queen’s own
wish was that Prince Albert should be named as Regent; but of course it was
necessary to carry a Bill to this effect through Parliament, and it was feared
that, as in the case of the Naturalisation Bill and the measure for granting an
annuity, there might be some difficulties of a vexatious nature, unless an
understanding could be previously arrived at with the leaders of the
Opposition. The Duke of Sussex was known to dislike conferring this
position on Prince Albert, and to favour the idea of creating a Council of
Regency, in which he himself would be a prominent member. Baron
Stockmar, therefore, opened communications with Sir Robert Peel and the
Duke of Wellington, and the matter was speedily arranged. A Bill appointing
Prince Albert to the office of Regent in the case supposed was introduced
into the Upper House on the 13th of July, and passed with no other
dissentient voice than that of the Duke of Sussex. The measure was equally
successful in the House of Commons, and it was generally agreed that the
father, as the natural guardian of any offspring, was the fittest person to
exercise supreme power in the name of the Royal infant, until he or she had
attained the legal majority. On the other hand, there was the objection that
the actual ruler of the country during many years would be a born foreigner;

but, as this had happened several times before in the history of England, it
was held to be no serious obstacle to an arrangement otherwise satisfactory.
On the 11th of September, Prince Albert was made a member of the Privy
Council, and, having been recently appointed to the Colonelcy of the 11th
Hussars, he went out from time to time with a squadron of the 1st Life
Guards in Windsor Park, in order to make himself acquainted with the forms
of English drill, and the words of command. During the same autumn
months, he was much occupied with a series of readings on the laws and
Constitution of England, under the care of Mr. Selwyn, a distinguished
writer on jurisprudence. He and the Queen were then residing at Windsor,
the green and woody surroundings of which were an endless source of
delight to the Prince. But an event was now approaching which rendered a
return to Buckingham Palace advisable. The London residence of her
Majesty was re-entered on the 13th of November, and, during the same
month, Baron Stockmar, who had left England for his home in Coburg at the
beginning of August, returned to London at the urgent solicitation of the
Prince, who desired to have that admirable friend and counsellor at hand
during a period of natural anxiety. On the 21st of November, 1840, the
Princess Royal was born, and, although the Prince was a little disappointed
at the infant not being a son, the feeling was but momentary. His devotion to
the Queen during her confinement was constant, and beyond all praise. He
generally dined with the Duchess of Kent, refused to go out in the evening,
and was always at hand if anything were required. “No one but himself,”
says a memorandum by her Majesty in an official work on the Prince’s early
life, “ever lifted her from her bed to her sofa, and he always helped to wheel
her on her bed or sofa into the next room. For this purpose he would come
instantly when sent for from any part of the house. As years went on, and he
became overwhelmed with work (for his attentions were the same in all the
Queen’s subsequent confinements), this was often done at much
inconvenience to himself; but he ever came with a sweet smile on his face.
In short, his care of her was like that of a mother; nor could there be a
kinder, wiser, or more judicious nurse.”[11] Her Majesty recovered so rapidly
that the Court removed to Windsor Castle for the Christmas holidays. The
Prince was always much interested in the ceremonies of that season, and it
was now that the pretty German custom of setting up Christmas-trees, as a
graceful means of distributing little presents both to old and young, was
introduced into England. The Court returned to Buckingham Palace on the

23rd of January, 1841, and Parliament was opened by the Queen in person
on the 26th. Her Majesty had but recently told the Prince that in former days
she was only too happy to be in London, and felt wretched at leaving it; but
that since the hour of their marriage she was unhappy at leaving the country,
and could be content never to go to town. This pleased him, as showing an
increasing solidity of mind, which found greater pleasure in the quiet yet
joyous delights of the country than in the giddy amusements of the
metropolis.
The baptism of the Princess Royal took place on the 10th of February, the
first anniversary of the Queen’s marriage, when the infant was christened
Victoria Adelaide Mary Louisa. The Prince, in writing, on the 12th of
February, 1841, to his grandmother, the Dowager Duchess of Gotha, said
that the christening had gone off very well. “Your little great-grandchild,” he
added, “behaved with great propriety, and like a Christian. She was awake,
but did not cry at all, and seemed to crow with immense satisfaction at the
lights and brilliant uniforms, for she is very intelligent and observing. The
ceremony took place at half-past six P.M.; and after it there was a dinner, and
then we had some instrumental music. The health of the little one was drunk
with great enthusiasm.” The sponsors at the christening were the Duke of
Saxe Coburg and Gotha (represented in his absence by the Duke of
Wellington), the King of the Belgians, the Queen Dowager, the Duchess of
Gloucester, the Duchess of Kent, and the Duke of Sussex. Only the day
before, the Prince had met with an accident, which might have proved fatal.
He was skating on the ornamental water in Buckingham Palace Gardens,
when a piece of ice, which had been recently broken, and had thinly frozen
over again, gave way as he was passing across it. He had to swim for two or
three minutes, in order to get out; but her Majesty, who was standing on the
bank, showed great presence of mind, and afforded valuable assistance.
During the last two years, the Queen had been rendered anxious by

CHRISTENING OF THE PRINCESS ROYAL. (After the Painting by C. R. Leslie, R.A.)
complications in the East, which at one time threatened to involve us in a
war with France. The Pasha of Egypt, Mehemet Ali, had for some years
made himself almost independent of the Turkish Sultan, Mahmoud II., and
had annexed the whole of Syria to his recognised dominions. He had an able,
energetic, and martial son (or rather an adopted son) named Ibrahim Pasha,
who repeatedly worsted the Ottoman forces, overran the larger part of the
Turkish dominions in Asia, and even threatened Constantinople itself. After
a while, a compromise was effected, by which the Egyptians withdrew from
their more advanced positions, but were suffered to retain the province of
Syria. This arrangement was concluded in 1833; but, six years later,
Mehemet Ali again rose against his suzerain. Mahmoud II. expired on the 1st
of July, 1839, shortly after a great battle in Syria, which had ended in the
discomfiture of his army, but of which he had not received intelligence at the
time of his decease. A few days later, the Capitan Pasha, or Lord High
Admiral, Achmet, deserted to Mehemet Ali with the whole of the Turkish
fleet, and the Ottoman Empire might have been rent into fragments, had it
not been for the interposition of England, Russia, Austria, and Prussia,
which, in July, 1840, gave Mehemet Ali to understand that he would not be
permitted to proceed in his career of rebellion and conquest. Thus assisted,

the young Turkish Sultan, Abdul-Medjid, pronounced the deposition of his
Egyptian vassal. Beyrout was bombarded by a combined English, Austrian,
and Turkish fleet, and captured in October. Other successes followed, and
old Mehemet Ali made his submission to superior power. He was deprived
of all his conquests, but permitted to retain Egypt; and thus a very difficult
state of affairs was brought to a peaceful conclusion about the close of 1840.
There had been no little danger of a rupture with France, owing to the very
different views of the Eastern Question taken by that Power and by England.
France dreaded the establishment of British influence in Egypt, where she
desired to affirm her own superiority; and in the spring of 1840 M. Guizot
was sent on a special mission to London, in the hope of composing matters.
The Queen received him graciously; yet he has left an account of a dinner at
Buckingham Palace, which confirms other descriptions as to the dulness and
languor of those entertainments. His negotiations did not proceed very
happily; but at length the clouds passed off, and, shortly after the birth of the
Princess Royal, all menace of a European war had entirely disappeared.
A minor but still important incident, belonging to the same period, tended
to the creation of a better feeling between England and France, and, in a not
distant future, helped forward a striking change in the political condition of
the latter country. In May, 1840, during the reign of Louis Philippe, the body
of Napoleon I. was removed, by permission of the English Government,
from the island of St. Helena to the dominions where the great conqueror
had once held such brilliant, yet disastrous, sway. On the 15th of December,
the remains were buried with solemn pomp in the Hôtel des Invalides, in
Paris. A magnificent monument has since been erected over the grave, and it
cannot be doubted that the enthusiasm awakened by the reception of the
mighty soldier’s ashes had much to do with the subsequent revival of the
Napoleonic Empire.
A question of great importance, which had been growing up for years,
was now acquiring a degree of prominence which renders it advisable that
some notice should be taken of its rise and development. The Corn Laws of
England had long operated not only as a serious interference with the trade
of the country, but as an artificial aggravation of the price of food. From time
to time, various attempts had been made to lighten the burden by making the
tax dependent on the price of native wheat; but the injury to the populace
was always considerable, and the benefit, if there was any benefit at all, was
enjoyed simply by the landowners and the agricultural class. Strange to say,

the great body of the people, who were chiefly interested in the matter, made
little remonstrance during a long term of years, and it required the persistent
efforts of an organised body to excite the necessary amount of opposition to
an impost which did cruel injustice to the multitude. An association for
obtaining the repeal of the Corn Laws was established in London in 1834,
and other bodies, animated by the same intention, arose in different parts of
the country. Still, their influence was but slight; and it was not until the work
was taken up by men peculiarly fitted to carry on the discussion, that the
country recognised the evils of a system which made the poor man’s loaf
dearer than it ought to be.
In 1804, a small landed proprietor near Midhurst, in Sussex, had a son
born to him, who was afterwards the celebrated Richard Cobden. The boy
was soon introduced to business life in London, and subsequently became a
partner in a Manchester printed-cotton factory, for which he occasionally
travelled. In this way he saw a good deal of the world, and, being a person of
a singularly shrewd, penetrating, and reflective mind, he discerned the whole
fallacy of the Protective system, and determined to devote his energies to a
repeal of the Corn Laws. In 1838, he and some others brought the matter
before the attention of the Manchester Chamber of Commerce, and from that
time forward the question came into the first rank of public discussion. The
following year, delegates were sent from the manufacturing districts to
London, that their views upon the subject might be brought under the notice
of the Legislature. At that time, Cobden had no seat in the House of
Commons; but the desired reform was ably supported in that assembly by
the brother of the late Earl of Clarendon, Mr. Charles Villiers, who, so far as
Parliament is concerned, may be described as the Father of Free Trade. On
the 19th of February, 1839, Mr. Villiers moved that the House resolve itself
into a Committee of Inquiry on the Corn Laws; and on the 12th of March he
moved that certain manufacturers be heard by counsel at the bar of the
House against the Corn Laws, as injurious to their private interests. Both
motions were rejected by large majorities, and the delegates returned to the
North, convinced that nothing would serve their cause but a systematic
campaign, directed against the evils from which they suffered, together with
the great majority of the people.
Hence the creation of the Anti-Corn-Law League, the constitution of
which was adopted on the 20th of March, 1839, at a meeting in Manchester.
The body thus formed was a sort of federation of all similar bodies existing

in different parts of the kingdom. It was agreed that delegates from the
different local associations should from time to time meet for business at the
principal towns

RICHARD COBDEN.
(From a Photograph by Messrs. W. and D.
Downey.)
represented, and that, with a view to securing unity of action, the central
office of the League should be established in Manchester; to which office
should be entrusted, among other duties, those of engaging and
recommending competent lecturers, and of obtaining the co-operation of the
public press. The two chief leaders of the movement thus set on foot were
Mr. Cobden and Mr. Bright; but there were several others who lent valuable
assistance to the cause. In particular, Captain (afterwards General) Perronet
Thompson, a man of great literary power, published (originally in 1827, and
again in later years) a “Catechism of the Corn Laws,” which placed the
whole argument in a singularly lucid and compact form before the nation.
Numerous tracts, written with similar objects, were printed in enormous
numbers, and dispersed all over the country. Meetings were held in
important towns, and lectures were delivered by a staff of paid assistants, of
whom one of the principal was the late W. J. Fox, afterwards Member for
Oldham—a journalist of distinction, a ready and effective disputant, and a

speaker gifted with remarkable powers of persuasive eloquence. By the early
part of 1841, the public mind had been to a considerable extent permeated by
the ideas favoured by the League; but a great deal still remained to be done
before either party in the State could be convinced that the only proper
course was to abolish the impost upon corn, and give the British people the
benefit of foreign produce in those years of scarcity to which their variable
climate so frequently condemns them. The sincerity with which capitalists in
the commercial parts of England adopted Free Trade views was strikingly
shown by the large sums of money subscribed every year for the
maintenance of the League, and for the diffusion of its economic principles.
It is true that the manufacturers had an interest in removing all restrictions
upon trade, which at that time were numerous, and operated to the general
disadvantage of commerce. But in their resistance to injurious enactments
they were fighting the battle of the people themselves, and the reforms
which began a few years later enhanced the prosperity of England, and
materially lessened the menaces of discontent.

CHAPTER VI.

TROUBLES IN THE STATE, AND HAPPINESS AT HOME.

Growing Unpopularity of the Melbourne Administration—The Stockdale Case—Approaching Fall
of the Government—Financial Embarrassments—Lord John Russell’s Proposal with Respect to
the Corn Laws—Defeat of the Ministry—General Election, and Conservative Majority—Views
of Prince Albert—Settlement of the “Bedchamber” Question—Wise Counsel of the Prince and
Baron Stockmar—Visits of the Queen to Places of Interest—Troublesome Loyalty—Launch of
the Trafalgar—The Melbourne Government and Free Trade—Speech from the Throne on the
Meeting of the New Parliament—Vote of Want of Confidence in the Government—Resignation
of Ministers—Final Years of Lord Melbourne—Formation and Chief Objects of Sir Robert Peel’s
Administration—The High Church Movement in England—Disruption of the Church of Scotland
—Lord Melbourne’s Opinion of Prince Albert—Sir Robert Peel and the Prince—Public
Appearances of the Latter in Connection with Social and Artistic Questions—Birth and
Christening of the Prince of Wales—Meeting of Parliament for the Session of 1842—Splendid
Festivities at Court—Attempts of Francis and Bean to Shoot her Majesty.

As the year 1841 advanced, the Melbourne Ministry, which had never
occupied a strong position since the General Election of 1837, grew weaker
and weaker. In many respects, the Government was a good one. It carried
through some excellent reforms, and was for the most part animated by a
liberal and benevolent spirit. Yet its administrative powers were faulty; it
was repeatedly falling into awkward blunders; it was afflicted with continual
deficits; it was unpopular, and it contrived to draw the Queen herself into the
orbit of its own disfavour. Education was advanced, though in a very
hesitating and tentative fashion; colonisation was promoted; some of the
most elementary rights of married women were recognised by statute; the
poor climbing-boys, as we have seen, were protected from the cruelty of
being compelled to ascend chimneys; the Postal system was reformed; many
other things were at least attempted. But people could not forget the
mistakes and shortcomings of the Ministry, nor regard with enthusiasm a
body of statesmen who often moved with reluctance, and sometimes moved
not at all; who had a certain facility in offending others, and yet depended
for their official existence on the precarious support of their opponents. As if
to make matters worse, they got into a controversy with the law-courts, in
consequence of an action brought by a publisher named Stockdale against
the Messrs. Hansard, printers to the House of Commons, for issuing, in
1836, certain Reports on Prisons, one of which contained serious reflections

on the plaintiff. The Court of Queen’s Bench gave judgment in favour of
Stockdale; the Government and the House of Commons championed the
printers; a good deal of unseemly action and counteraction took place; and at
length, in the spring of 1840, the matter was settled by a Bill affording
summary protection to all persons employed in the publication of
Parliamentary papers. In their main contention, Ministers were probably
right; but they conducted the dispute in a rather undignified manner, and the
feeling of the public generally was very much against them.
The successes of the British fleet in the East, during the autumn of 1840,
did little to restore the credit of the Melbourne Administration. In 1841,
everything prefigured an approaching change; yet the Government clung to
office with the utmost tenacity. Parliament was opened by the Queen in
person on the 26th of January; and in a little while the Budget of the
Chancellor of the Exchequer, Mr. Baring, disclosed a deficit of nearly two
millions. It was thought to fill the gap by alterations in the timber and sugar
duties (from which Mr. Baring hoped to obtain an increase of £1,300,000),
and by whatever might accrue from Lord John Russell’s contemplated
modification of the Corn Laws. The House of Commons, however, rejected
the proposals of the Finance Minister by a majority of 36 in a House of 598
members. Most people thought that after this the Government must needs
resign. But, Lord John Russell having already given notice of his intention to
move for a committee of the whole House, to consider the state of legislation
with regard to the trade in corn, it was determined to try this last chance. The
plan was to propose a fixed duty of eight shillings a quarter on wheat, and at
the same time to diminish the rates on rye, barley, and oats. But the patience
of the Opposition was now worn out. On the 24th of May, Sir Robert Peel
gave notice of a motion to the effect that the Government had lost the
confidence of the House of Commons, and that their continuance in office
under such circumstances was at variance with the spirit of the Constitution.
This was brought forward on the 27th of the same month; and the debates,
after lasting several nights, came to a conclusion on the 4th of June, when
312 voted in favour of the motion, and 311 against. Government was thus
left in a minority of one, and Lord John Russell promised to state, at the next
meeting of Parliament, what course her Majesty’s Ministers were prepared to
adopt. In the meanwhile, he intimated the withdrawal of his motion on the
subject of the Corn Laws. On the 7th of June, he announced the intention of
the Ministry to advise the dissolution of Parliament. The General Election

took place during the summer, and the Conservatives obtained a large
majority.
Lord Melbourne had long foreseen the ruin of the Ministry, and probably
he secretly rejoiced at his approaching release from a task which had
manifestly become hopeless. Before Baron Stockmar again left England, in
the early part of 1841, the Premier told that distinguished German that his
Cabinet was exposed to all sorts of dangers, and that he saw no guarantee for
its stability. He conversed much with Prince Albert, and was most anxious
that the Queen should communicate to his Royal Highness everything
connected with public affairs. Writing to his father, in April, 1841, the Prince
observes:—“I study the politics of the day with great industry. I speak quite
openly with the Ministers on all subjects, so as to gain information, and I
endeavour quietly to be of as much use to Victoria in her position as I can.”
He saw that Sir Robert Peel would soon be again called upon to form a
Ministry; he knew that an unpleasant incident had occurred on a similar
occasion in 1839; and he felt that the recurrence of any such catastrophe
should by all means be avoided. There must be no second collision between
the sovereign and a leading statesman on a matter so unimportant from one
point of view, yet so important from another, as the position of a few
Bedchamber women. Prince Albert therefore brought the subject under the
notice of Lord Melbourne, and remarked that he was naturally in a state of
some uneasiness at the probable course of events; that his sole anxiety was
that the Queen should act constitutionally, and with more general applause
than on the previous occasion; that it was his duty, and Lord Melbourne’s
also, to prepare her Majesty for possible eventualities; and that an agreement
ought to be arrived at, as to what she should do under the circumstances.[12]
The Prime Minister assented to these views, and it was settled that, should
there be a change of Ministry, the Queen would arrange that those of her
ladies should retire of their own accord whose removal might be requested
by the in-coming Cabinet, on account of their relationship to leaders of the
Whig party. It was the view of Prince Albert, and also of Lord Melbourne,
that Sir Robert Peel should be previously consulted. Negotiations were
accordingly opened with that statesman, through the medium of the Prince’s
secretary, Mr. Anson; and when Sir Robert accepted office soon afterwards,
the Duchesses of Bedford and Sutherland, and Lady Normanby, relinquished
their posts.[13]

The time was one of great trial for the Queen; but she had now always at
her side an adviser of much discrimination, of excellent sense, and of the
highest honour. “Albert,” wrote her Majesty, about this period, to her uncle,
the King of the Belgians, “is indeed a great comfort to me. He takes the
greatest, possible interest in what goes on, feeling with me and for me, and
yet abstaining

HATFIELD HOUSE.
as he ought, from biassing me either way, though we talk much on the
subject, and his judgment is, as you say, good and calm.” The Prince, in his
turn, had an invaluable guide in Baron Stockmar, who frequently
corresponded with him. In a letter written from Coburg on the 18th of May,
1841, the Baron says:—“If things come to a change of Ministry, then the
great axiom, irrefragably one and the same for all Ministries, is this, namely,
the Crown supports frankly, honourably, and with all its might, the Ministry
of the time, whatever it be, so long as it commands a majority, and governs
with integrity for the welfare and advancement of the country. A king who,
as a Constitutional king, either cannot or will not carry this maxim into
practice, deliberately descends from the lofty pedestal on which the
Constitution has placed him to the lower one of a mere party chief. Be you,
therefore, the Constitutional genius of the Queen. Do not content yourself
with merely whispering this maxim in her ear when circumstances serve, but
strive also to carry it out into practice, at the right time, and by the worthiest
means.”

THE QUEEN AT THE LAUNCH OF THE “TRAFALGAR.”
While awaiting the political crisis which every one saw could not be long
in coming, the Queen and Prince Albert made several interesting excursions
to various places in the country, such as Nuneham, Oxford, Woburn Abbey,
Panshanger, Brocket Hall (the seat of Lord Melbourne), and Hatfield. On
these occasions, the Royal party were very well received by the country
people, though the Queen, in her “Journal,” rather complains of the
crowding and pressing, and of the dust raised by the mounted farmers who,
in their well-meant but somewhat inconvenient loyalty, furnished
supplementary escorts. Englishmen, of course, are not to expect the
privileges of a more favoured race, and southern roads are naturally more

dusty than northern moorlands. But her Majesty was not much offended, and
speaks of the people as “good” and “loyal,” though, it would seem, a little
troublesome. Among the places visited was the seat of the Duke of
Devonshire at Chiswick; and on the 21st of June the Queen and Prince
Albert went to see the Trafalgar launched at Woolwich. At the request of her
Majesty, the vessel was named by Lady Bridport, a niece of Lord Nelson,
and the wine used was a portion of that taken from the great Admiral’s flag-
ship, Victory, after the battle of Trafalgar. Out of the five hundred people on
board at the time of the launch, no fewer than one hundred had taken part in
the ever-memorable action, and the scene altogether was of the most
impressive kind. In a letter to his father, written on the following day, Prince
Albert said that this was the most imposing sight he could remember. There
were about five hundred thousand people present, the Thames being covered
for miles with ships, steamers, barges, and boats.
The Melbourne Ministry, while struggling for existence to the very last,
had contrived to offend both parties in the State by its half-heartedness. The
lowering of the duties on cereals was to some extent a concession to the Free
Trade party; but it did not go far enough to satisfy them, while at the same
time it alarmed the agricultural interest. On the whole, it appeared as if the
Government were gradually abandoning the Protective system, although, no
farther back than 1839, Lord Melbourne had declared in the House of Lords
that “the repeal of the Corn Laws would be the most insane proposition that
ever entered the human head.” Even Lord John Russell, who was much more
a reformer than his chief, had very recently spoken of Free Trade in anything
but respectful terms. Indeed, the Ministerial Whigs generally were
disinclined to adopt the opinions of Mr. Villiers and Mr. Cobden; yet, in the
early summer of 1841, they showed a remarkable tendency to advance in
that direction. In the debate on the Sugar Duties, Lord Palmerston, referring
to what were now considered the necessary measures for relieving British
trade from the encumbrances which had hampered it, observed, in a spirit of
political prophecy:—“I will venture to predict that, although our opponents
may resist those measures to-night, for the sake of obtaining a majority in
the division, yet, if they should come into office, those are the measures
which a just regard for the finances and commerce of the country will
compel them to propose.” All this was a movement in the right direction; yet
people would not believe in its sincerity. They said it was only a trick to
obtain votes, and to stave off a little while longer the inevitable downfall.

Probably they were right. At any rate, their views prevailed at the General
Election.
On the 15th of July, about the close of the Elections, Lord Melbourne
reported to the Queen that the Conservatives would have a majority of
seventy. In point of fact, it amounted to seventy-six, and even Lord John
Russell preserved his seat for the City of London by so bare a success that,
of the four members, he obtained the smallest number of votes, and narrowly
escaped defeat. On the meeting of the new Parliament, which was on the
24th of August, the Royal Speech (read by Commission) contained the
following significant passage:—“Her Majesty is desirous that you should
consider the laws which regulate the trade in corn. It will be for you to
determine whether these laws do not aggravate the natural fluctuation of
supply; whether they do not embarrass trade, derange the currency, and, by
their operation, diminish the comfort and increase the privation of the great
body of the community.” Amendments to the Address, however, were carried
in both Houses by large majorities. These amendments pointed to the
continued excess of expenditure over income, and declared that nothing
could be done while the Government did not possess the confidence of the
House or of the country. The adoption of the amendments could, of course,
produce only one result. Everybody knew that the fate of the Melbourne
Administration would be sealed as soon as Parliament met, and, now that an
adverse vote had been carried, nothing remained but to resign. In her reply to
the Address, the Queen expressed satisfaction at the spirit in which
Parliament proposed to deliberate on the matters she had recommended to
them, and said in conclusion:—“Ever anxious to listen to the advice of my
Parliament, I will take immediate measures for the formation of a new
Administration.” On the night of the day when this message was sent to
Parliament, the resignation of Ministers was announced to both Houses.
Three days later—namely, on the 2nd of September—the Queen spent her
last evening with the ladies of the Household who, by a political necessity,
were now forced to retire. The dinner was a sad and silent one, and it is
reported that tears were shed. Her Majesty had contracted a sincere
friendship for these ladies; through all the years of her reign she had leant for
support on the Ministers to whom they were related; and it was natural, even
commendable, that deep regret should be both felt and shown. On the other
hand, it was impossible for Sir Robert Peel to carry on his Government with

such an adverse influence at head-quarters; and personal considerations were
forced to give way before others of greater importance.
After his resignation of office in the late summer of 1841, Lord
Melbourne disappears almost entirely from the history and politics of
England. He had always been a somewhat indolent man, or at any rate a man
with no devouring passion for work, no insatiable ambition of towering
above his fellow-men. Moreover, he was now getting elderly, and there had
been much in the last few years to make him weary of political distinction.
Having ceased to be a Minister of the Crown, he turned his position as a
member of the House of Lords to but little account. Casting the load of
politics from his shoulders, for which, in

SIR ROBERT PEEL.
spite of his long official experience, he seems never to have had any warm
regard, he passed the remainder of his days as a sort of recluse, fond of
literature, and disposed to fleet away the time in studies which were elegant
rather than profound. He had long been a widower; his only child, a son, had
some years before died unmarried at the early age of twenty-nine; and the
broken statesman had now few companions of a very intimate character.
Whether his latter years were as lonely as some have represented, may be
doubtful; but it is too likely that they were not cheered by the highest or the

best kind of social intercourse. He died on the 24th of November, 1848, a
little under seventy years of age; and the title soon afterwards became
extinct. Whatever his faults, it is generally acknowledged that Lord
Melbourne had many amiable qualities. But his position in the history of
England, though in some respects interesting, can never be regarded as
illustrious.
In the new Administration, Sir Robert Peel was First Lord of the
Treasury, Lord Lyndhurst Lord High Chancellor, Sir James Graham Home
Secretary, Mr. Goulburn Chancellor of the Exchequer, the Earl of Aberdeen
Foreign Secretary, Lord Stanley Secretary for the Colonies, Sir Henry
Hardinge Secretary

MAGDALEN COLLEGE, OXFORD, FROM THE CHERWELL.
at War, Lord Ellenborough President of the Board of Control, and the Duke
of Wellington leader of the House of Lords, without office. These were the
principal appointments, and they constituted a Government of considerable
ability. The chief strength of the new Cabinet, however, lay in Sir Robert
Peel himself. During his former short-lived Government, in 1834-5, he had
combined the functions of First Lord of the Treasury and Chancellor of the
Exchequer. It was hoped that this arrangement would now be repeated; but
the inferior office, as we have seen, was conferred on Mr. Goulburn. Still, it
was well known that Peel would be the directing financial genius of the
Administration. His abilities as a financier were generally admitted, and
have probably never been surpassed. If the country was to be dragged out of
the abyss of its ever-increasing embarrassments, Peel was the man most
likely to perform the feat. But the deficit was alarming, and, shortly after the

reassembling of Parliament, the Chancellor of the Exchequer said he must
ask for a vote of £2,500,000, adding that he would in time state how he
proposed to meet the existing deficiency. In the meanwhile, the distress of
the working classes was becoming every day more intense, and in the
manufacturing districts great dissatisfaction was expressed that Sir Robert
Peel not only refused to adopt Free Trade in its integrity, but even repudiated
Lord John Russell’s project for a small fixed duty upon corn. Peel favoured
what was known in those days as the Sliding Scale, by which foreign wheat
was allowed to be imported at a variable duty,—greater when the price of
home-grown wheat was low, and lower when the price was high. The truth is
that neither the Whigs nor the Tories had made up their minds to accept the
principles of Free Trade, while both sought to postpone the threatened day
by contrivances more or less objectionable, and more or less futile. But the
General Election had returned to Parliament a man who in the course of a
few years was to carry the Free Trade banner triumphantly on to the
Treasury benches themselves. Richard Cobden now sat for the first time in
Parliament, and his “unadorned eloquence,” as Peel afterwards called it, was
soon to produce an immense effect upon the minds of those who heard him.
Among the many sources of agitation existing at that time, none was
more remarkable, or in some respects more important, than the High Church
movement, which had originated several years before, but which in 1841
was beginning to assume grave proportions. This turmoil of the religious
mind had first shown itself in the University of Oxford towards the latter end
of the reign of George IV. A number of enthusiastic young students—men of
great mental power, and of unquestionable sincerity—began to be
dissatisfied with the position, doctrine, and ceremonial of the Church for
which they were being prepared, or which they had already entered. They
considered that that Church had abnegated some of its most valuable
functions; that it was lax in its ideas, somnolent in its teaching, forgetful of
tradition, slovenly in its ritual, and indifferent to its authoritative powers.
There had in truth been a good deal of dull and formal worldly-mindedness
amongst the clergy for the last hundred years; but it must not be forgotten
that this period of repose had had inestimable advantages in the softening of
dogma, the development of toleration, and the growth of independent
thought. To the Oxford ecclesiologists, however, these very circumstances
were amongst the heaviest indictments which they brought against the
Church as it was then constituted. They had grand visions of Apostolical

succession, and certainly suggested, if they did not precisely state, that no
one would be entitled to differ from the Church, if the Church were only
reformed according to their ideas. Curious inquirers trace back the beginning
of this movement to the lectures of Bishop Lloyd on the Prayer Book and the
Council of Trent, which were delivered when he was Regius Professor of
Divinity at Oxford, about 1823. But, whatever impulse he may have given to
subsequent speculations, Dr. Lloyd does not appear among the leaders of the
great movement which afterwards shook the religious world of England to
its centre. Those leaders were the Rev. John Keble, author of “The Christian
Year,” and Fellow of Oriel; the Rev. J. H. Newman (now Cardinal Newman);
the Rev. Richard Hurrell Froude (who, with Newman, was also a Fellow of
Oriel); the Rev. E. B. Pusey, Regius Professor of Hebrew, and Canon of
Christchurch; and the Rev. Isaac Williams, Fellow of Trinity, and author of
“The Cathedral, and Other Poems.” Cambridge contributed the services of
the Rev. Hugh Rose; but, on the whole, the sister University was little
affected by the new ideas.
The founders of the modern High Church were not long in using the press
as the most effectual method of propagating their opinions. They issued a
series of papers called “Tracts for the Times,” of which ninety numbers were
published between the years 1833 and 1841; and articles to the same effect
were also published in the British Critic. These manifestoes produced an
extraordinary effect on a large portion of the clergy, and a certain number of
the laity; but at the same time they aroused the bitterest opposition amongst
numerous classes of churchmen and churchgoers. It was alleged that some of
the most distinctive doctrines of the Romish Church were ostentatiously
paraded by the reformers as irrefragable and indispensable doctrines of the
English Church; though, in some instances at least, these doctrines might be
fairly inferred from the Articles and the Prayer Book. What perhaps gave
more offence than anything else was the scorn and hatred with which the
Tractarians, as they were soon called, repudiated the word “Protestant,” as if
it necessarily involved the most detestable of heresies. They called
themselves “Anglicans,” and would admit no other description. The most
bigoted of Romish divines could hardly have regarded Luther with greater
dislike than was manifested by the more extreme members of the school.
The days of the Reformation were stigmatised by High Church enthusiasts
as days of degradation and wickedness, and every form of Dissent was an
invention of the devil. All these vagaries induced many persons, who argued

rather through the medium of their alarm and anger than by means of their
reason, to believe that the Tractarians were consciously and designedly
preparing the way for a return to Roman Catholicism. With some, indeed—
notably with Mr. J. H. Newman—this was the actual result of their
speculations. But, as a body, the High Churchmen had no such intention.
They had not the slightest wish to subject their Church to the orders of an
Italian priest holding his court at Rome. What they really desired was to
subject the whole of England—the State as well as the individual—to their
conceptions of ecclesiastical predominance.
Most of the younger clergymen fell in with the Tractarian movement, as
young men are generally disposed to fall in with anything new. A spirit of
revivalism spread over the land. The writings of the Fathers, the ancient
liturgies of the early Christian Church, the history and traditions of the
Church in all ages, the lives of saints, the mediæval books of devotion and
morals—all
these were diligently disinterred from dusty
shelves where they had long slumbered, and
studied in the belief that they would shed a new
and divine light on modern troubles and
perplexities. Gothic architecture and art, of a
purer type than had been known for nearly five
hundred years, were cultivated as a means of
influencing the public mind in favour of the
strictest ecclesiasticism. Symbolical forms were
interpreted in a deeply mystical sense, and
gradually the conceptions of the reformers
JOHN KEBLE. began to find their way, not merely into the
churches, but into general literature, especially
into poetry of a tender and emotional order.
Then arose the battle of surplices, intonings, candles, and altars, which at
first shocked, and afterwards exasperated, the average Englishman. It must
be admitted, however, that the arguments of the Tractarians had sometimes
an apparent cogency, which produced a great effect on such as were already
half-disposed to be convinced. They urged with no little plausibility that the
subjection of Church doctrine to the decision of a Lord Chancellor who
might be a free-thinker, or a man of questionable life, was an absurdity and a
scandal. But this was simply an argument against the existence of a State

Church, and in that sense it was not put forth. If the Church is united with
the State, it must be either as master or servant. To adopt the homely phrase
of Dogberry, “An
two men ride of a horse, one must ride behind;”
and it is in the highest degree improbable that
Englishmen will ever again consent to “ride
behind” any ecclesiastical corporation in the
world. Still, we may grant this truth without
denying the earnestness, devotion, and moral
purity of the Tractarians—qualities which have
borne good fruit, and which will be remembered
to their credit when Time has obliterated their
follies.
In the early part of 1841, Mr. Newman
published the celebrated “Tract No. 90,” the JOHN HENRY NEWMAN.
object of which was to show that subscription to (From a Photograph by H. J.
Whitlock, Birmingham.)
the Thirty-nine Articles need not deter a man
from holding various doctrines which are
commonly regarded as Romish. This was going a little too far for the
patience of the authorities, and, on the 15th of March, the Vice-Chancellor
and heads of houses at Oxford censured the offending Tract, in a resolution
which set forth—“That modes of interpretation such as are suggested in the
said Tract, evading rather than explaining the sense of the Thirty-nine
Articles, and reconciling subscription to them with the adoption of errors
which they were designed to counteract, defeat the object, and are
inconsistent with the due observance, of the statutes of the University.” Next
day, Mr. Newman addressed a letter to the Vice-Chancellor, acknowledging
himself as the author of the Tract. Some time after, he resigned the Vicarage
of St. Mary’s, Oxford, and in 1845 he seceded to the Church of Rome. There
cannot be a doubt that in his earlier years he had no intention of quitting the
Church of England. Throughout the whole of his career, he has been
thoroughly honest, conscientious, and self-devoted; but he has a mind of the
acutest logical perceptions, and ultimately, though with great distress to
himself, he came to the conclusion that the legitimate development of his
opinions conducted him to Rome, and nowhere else. This conclusion being
reached, he was not the man to tamper with his innermost convictions. His
retirement from the Tractarian field concentrated additional power in the

hands of the Rev. Mr. Pusey, who had long
been the chief leader of the movement.
Indeed, the very word “Puseyism” attests the
depth and breadth of his influence.
It is no secret that neither the Queen nor
Prince Albert liked the extreme views of the
Tractarians, but would have preferred a
broader and more liberal interpretation of
Church doctrines. But the movement was of
course entirely independent of Royal
influences, and the time was one of
awakened enthusiasm in all matters
appertaining to religion. In Scotland, as in
England, men’s minds were being agitated
by conflicting views as to the proper
character of a Church; and the dispute at the
North terminated in a disruption of an
important nature. A party had arisen in the
Kirk of Scotland which desired, like the
Tractarians in the Church of England, to
emancipate the religious body from the
control of the State in all matters of doctrine
and discipline; but this was no easy task. An
Act of Parliament had been passed in 1712,
which subjected the power of the Presbytery ST. MARY’S, FROM THE HIGH
to the control of the law-courts. Until then, STREET, OXFORD.
the appointment of pastors had been with the
Church-courts of Scotland; but now the minister was in many instances
nominated by a lay patron, and the Presbytery thereupon admitted him as a
matter of course, unless there was some flagrant objection which could not
be evaded or overcome. The popular element in the Scottish Kirk was thus
subordinated to aristocratic influence, and in time many sincere members of
that body were so much disgusted as to secede from the Established Church,
and form separate communions of their own. Matters had reached such a
pass by 1834, when the “Evangelical,” as opposed to the “Moderate,” party
had obtained the upper hand, that the General Assembly of the Kirk affirmed
the right of each congregation to exercise a veto on any presentee, in

accordance with a fundamental law of the Church, “that no pastor should be
intruded on any congregation contrary to the will of the people.” This was
the celebrated Veto Law, which soon became the subject of much
controversy. The lay patrons, finding themselves deprived of what they
considered their rights, resisted the ruling of the General Assembly, and
appealed to the law-courts. Sometimes the decision was in favour of the one
party, sometimes of the other; and at length the Strathbogie case brought the
law-courts and the General Assembly into open conflict. The Presbytery of
Strathbogie supported a certain minister who, in 1837, had been nominated
for the parish of Marnoch. The General Assembly issued its edict that the
minister was to be rejected. The majority of the local Presbytery still
continuing defiant, seven of their number were, by the General Assembly,
finally expelled from their places in the ministry on the 7th of May, 1841;
and, from that time forward, Dr. Chalmers, who had moved their expulsion,
became the great leader of the reforming party. The controversy went on
with increasing bitterness; the decisions of the Court of Session, upheld by
the House of Lords, completely over-ruled the decisions of the General
Assembly of the Kirk; and, on the 18th of May, 1843, nearly five hundred
ministers of the Church of Scotland, under the leadership of their
distinguished and eloquent champion, seceded from the Establishment, and
began what is called the Free Church of Scotland. These ministers had no
quarrel with the older body on matters of doctrine; but they would not
submit to the dictation of lay patrons, or the control of the law-courts. Such,
in brief, is the history of this memorable revolt.
In the midst of so many perplexities, it was fortunate for the new
Government, and also for the Queen herself, that they had an intermediary so
highly qualified to fill the part as Prince Albert. In resigning the seals of
office, Lord Melbourne felt that he left her Majesty in safe hands. He
confessed that it was very painful to him to bid farewell to his Royal
mistress. For four years, he remarked, he had seen her every day; but he
added that it was now different from what it would have been in 1839. The
Prince, he observed, understood everything, and had a clever, able head.
Again, on the following day, when taking his final leave of her Majesty, he
said:—“You will find a great support in the Prince; he is so able. You said,
when you were going to be married, that he was perfection, which I thought
a little exaggerated then, but really I think now that it is in some degree
realised.” In commenting on these opinions in her “Journal,” the Queen

writes:—“Nothing could exceed the Prince’s kindness to the Queen at this
(for her) trying time of separation from her old friend;” and in a letter to
King Leopold she quotes the following written opinion of Lord Melbourne
on his Royal Highness:—“Lord Melbourne cannot satisfy himself without
again stating to your Majesty in writing what he had the honour of saying to
your Majesty respecting his Royal Highness the Prince. Lord Melbourne has
formed the highest opinion of his Royal Highness’s judgment, temper, and
discretion; and he cannot but feel a great consideration and security that he
leaves your Majesty in a situation in which your Majesty has the inestimable
advantage of such advice and assistance. Lord Melbourne feels certain that
your Majesty cannot do better than have recourse to it whenever it is needed,
and rely upon it with confidence.”
It was natural, and inevitable that Lord Melbourne should feel a deep
regret in parting from her Majesty after so long an association. It was equally
natural that Sir Robert Peel should approach the Court with something of
nervous apprehension. He had opposed the Queen’s wishes with respect to
the Ladies of the Bedchamber; shortly afterwards, he had been mainly
instrumental in procuring the curtailment of the Prince’s income.
Nevertheless, he was received by the Prince with an unaffected cordiality
which immediately put him at his ease. Like Lord Melbourne, he soon
formed a very high opinion of his Royal Highness’s abilities, and the new
Minister was as willing as the old to keep the Prince well acquainted with
the development of the national affairs. He was also desirous to take
advantage of the Prince’s known proficiency in art, by placing him at the
head of a Royal Commission to inquire whether the rebuilding of the Houses
of Parliament did not offer a fitting occasion to promote

KING LEOPOLD.
and encourage the Fine Arts in the United Kingdom. The position was
accepted by his Royal Highness; and when Sir Robert Peel announced the
fact to the House of Commons, he was gratified to witness (as he afterwards
reported) the cordial satisfaction with which the intimation was received in
every quarter. Prince Albert had very properly made it a condition of his
accepting the chairmanship of this body that in the selection of its members
there should be an entire exclusion of all party distinctions. The principle
was carefully observed, and the noblemen and gentlemen thus brought
together were appointed with the single consideration of their fitness. This
was the first of those numerous services to intellectual culture which Prince
Albert rendered to his adopted country. He had now acquired an almost
perfect command of English, though, when he came over to be married, in
the early part of 1840, he knew but little of the language. The first of his
speeches in public, however, had been delivered as early as the 1st of June,
1840, at a meeting to promote the Abolition of the Slave Trade. The speech
was brief, carefully written beforehand, and committed

ST. GEORGE’S CHAPEL, WINDSOR.
to memory; but the Prince was naturally very nervous in delivering it. On the
25th of June, 1841, he laid the foundation-stone of the London Porters’
Association; so that he was now coming out into the light of publicity, to an
extent from which he at first shrank, feeling himself a stranger in a strange
land, and not being very confident as to the cordiality of the general
sentiment. His acceptance, in October, of the Chairmanship of the Fine Arts
Commission was another step forward in the direction to which he had
recently been turning his thoughts. For several years, Prince Albert did
admirable service in educating the English mind to a higher sense of artistic
beauty; and, in the fulness of time, the suggestion of Sir Robert Peel bore
more ample fruits than he himself could have anticipated.
On the 9th of November, 1841, the Prince of Wales was born at
Buckingham Palace. As on the occasion of her previous confinement, the
Queen recovered rapidly, and was able to celebrate the first anniversary of
the Princess Royal’s birth on the 21st of the same month. On the 6th of
December, the Court removed to Windsor Castle. Addressing the King of the
Belgians on the 14th of December, her Majesty wrote:—“We must all have
trials and vexations; but if one’s home is happy, then the rest is
comparatively nothing. I assure you, dear uncle, that no one feels this more
than I do. I had this autumn one of the severest trials I could have in parting
with my Government, and particularly from our kind and valued friend, and
I feel even now this last very much; but my happiness at home, the love of
my husband, his kindness, his advice, his support, and his company, make up

for all, and make me forget it.” Christmas was again spent at Windsor, and
the New Year was danced in after a very jovial fashion. While the dance was
yet proceeding, the clock struck twelve, and at the last stroke a flourish of
trumpets was blown, according to the German custom. The Queen records in
her “Journal” that this peal of instruments had a very grand and solemn
effect, and that it caused a sudden agitation in Prince Albert, who turned
pale, while the tears started to his eyes. He was thinking of his native
country and his early days.
Shortly after the birth of the young Prince—namely, on the 4th of
December, 1841—the Queen created him, by Letters Patent, Prince of Wales
and Earl of Chester. The Letters Patent went on to say:—“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 inherited, without the
necessity of patent or creation, the dignities and titles of Duke of Saxony, by
right of his father, and, by right of his mother, those of Duke of Cornwall,
Duke of Rothesay, Earl of Carrick, Baron of Renfrew, Lord of the Isles, and
Great Steward of Scotland.
The christening of the Prince of Wales took place on the 25th of January,
1842, in St. George’s Chapel, Windsor. In the midst of great pomp and
splendour, the ceremony was performed by the Archbishop of Canterbury
with water specially brought from the river Jordan. The sponsors were the
late King of Prussia (Frederick William IV.); the Duchess of Saxe-Coburg,
represented by the Duchess of Kent; the Duke of Cambridge; the Duchess of
Saxe-Gotha, represented by the Duchess of Cambridge; the Princess Sophia,
represented by the Princess Augusta of Cambridge; and Prince Ferdinand of
Saxe-Coburg. King Frederick William was chosen as being the ruler of the
chief Protestant kingdom on the Continent; but the leading politicians of
Germany, France, and Russia, saw in the selection a degree of political
significance which was doubtless entirely absent. Some among the Prussians
themselves feared that the King would take advantage of his presence in
England to effect that Anglicanising of the Prussian Church which was dear
to his heart. When his Majesty arrived in England, however, he proved to be
nothing more than a stout, middle-aged gentleman, who could tell a good

story very well, and who even consented to dance a quadrille with the
Queen, though his person was little suited to such exercises, and his time of
life was hardly favourable to their graceful performance. The names given to
the infant Prince at his christening were Albert Edward. At the conclusion of
the ceremony, a silver-embossed vessel, containing a whole hogshead of
mulled claret, was brought in, and served out liberally to the company, that
the health of the Prince might be drunk with due honour.
Before his departure, the King of Prussia attended the meeting of
Parliament on the 3rd of February, 1842. An admirable description of this
ceremony is given in a letter by the Baroness Bunsen, an English lady
married to the celebrated Prussian scholar, at that time Ambassador to the
Court of St. James’s. This lady speaks of the Queen as being “worthy and fit
to be the converging point of so many rays of grandeur;” and she adds that
“the composure with which she filled the throne, while awaiting the
Commons, was a test of character—no fidget, and no apathy.... Placed in a
narrow space behind her Majesty’s mace-bearers, and peeping over their
shoulders, I was enabled to hide and subdue the emotion I felt, in
consciousness of the mighty pages in the world’s history condensed in the
words so impressively uttered in the silver tones of that feminine voice—
Peace and War, the fate of millions, relations of countries, exertions of power
felt to the extremities of the globe, alterations of Corn Laws, the birth of a
future sovereign, mentioned in solemn thankfulness to Him in whose hands
are nations and rulers!”
These were the serious sides of royalty; but the young Queen, and her
equally young husband, were not indifferent to the lighter graces of their
position. A splendid new ball-room was added to Buckingham Palace, and a
number of brilliant entertainments took place in that magnificent saloon. A
bal costumé, on the 12th of May, 1842, is believed to have been the first ever
given in England by a member of the House of Brunswick. On this occasion,
her Majesty appeared as Queen Philippa, consort of Edward III., and Prince
Albert as Edward III. himself. The Duchess of Cambridge was received in
State as Anne of Brittany, accompanied by her Court; and, after dancing had
been enjoyed for some hours, supper was served with surroundings of
remarkable splendour. The salvers, vases, tankards, and jewelled cups, are
described by writers of the period as of unusual cost and richness. A tent
belonging to Tippoo Sahib was erected within the Corinthian portico
adjoining the green drawing-room, and in the course of the evening this

Oriental pavilion was used as a place for refreshment. Later in the season, a
second ball of a similar character was given by her Majesty, in which the
dresses were confined to the reigns of George II. and III. A grand banquet at
Windsor Castle on the Ascot Cup day appears also to have been conspicuous
for its lavish splendour. Luncheon had been previously served in Tippoo
Sahib’s tent; but the dinner itself was in St. George’s Hall, the ceiling of
which was emblazoned with the arms of the Knights of the Garter, from the
institution of that Order down to modern times, and also with portraits of the
British Kings from James I. to George IV. Immediately opposite the Queen
was a pyramid of plate, crowned by the tiger’s head captured at
Seringapatam, and comprising the “Iluma” of precious stones which Lord
Wellesley, when Governor-General of India, presented to his sovereign. The
display of gold

AMBASSADORS’ COURT, ST. JAMES’S PALACE.
plate, the brilliant light shed from numerous candelabra, the music furnished
by two bands of the Guards stationed in a balcony, and the picturesque
appearance of the Yeomen of the Guard, who stood on duty at the entrance,
contributed to an effect which was truly regal in its pomp and grandeur. In
the drawing-room, after dinner, the celebrated French actress, Madame
Rachel, gave recitations from her principal performances; and the
entertainment came to a close a little before midnight. In the then excited
state of the public mind, some persons condemned these amusements, which
they contrasted with the hunger and suffering to be found in other quarters;

apparently not perceiving that the circulation of money must be an
advantage to the community in general. But

COSTUME BALL IN BUCKINGHAM PALACE.
when the Queen and her ladies appeared in dresses of British manufacture,
the agitation ceased, and it was admitted that trade and labour derived
benefit from the outlay.
It was about the period of these gorgeous ceremonials that some other
attempts were made (or apparently made) on the life of the Queen. The first
of these occurred on Sunday, the 29th of May, when a young man, named
John Francis, attacked the Royal party while returning from the Chapel

Royal, St. James’s Palace. As they were driving along the Mall, near Stafford
House, a man stepped out from the crowd, and presented a pistol at Prince
Albert. The Prince heard the trigger snap, but the weapon missed fire. He
turned to the Queen, and asked, “Did you hear that?” adding, “I am sure I
saw some one take aim at us.” No other person, however, seems to have
been aware of the attempt, and it was considered advisable that the Queen
and Prince Albert should drive out again on the following day. They went
towards Hampstead, and, on their return, when approaching the Palace, were
again shot at. A policeman was standing close by, and Francis was
immediately seized. Strange to say, the second attempt was very nearly on
the same spot as that of Oxford in 1840. The culprit was the son of a
machinist at Drury Lane Theatre, and had for some months been out of
employment. “A little, swarthy, ill-looking rascal,” is the account which
Prince Albert gives of him; but he conducted himself before the authorities
with a good deal of spirit, or rather, perhaps, with a good deal of impudence.
Having been found guilty of high treason, he was condemned to death; but
the sentence was afterwards commuted to transportation for life.
The very day after the commutation became known—namely, July 3rd—
a further attempt was made by a hunchback named Bean. As in the other
cases, a morbid vanity appears to have been the feeling which prompted the
act. Bean escaped at the moment, but was soon afterwards arrested, and,
being tried for misdemeanour—not, like the others, for high treason—was
sentenced to eighteen months’ imprisonment. The folly of charging such
offenders with high treason, when it was quite certain that they would not be
visited with the penalty of that offence, but with a much lighter punishment,
uncertain, capricious, and variable in its nature and operation, had suggested
a change of the law, and the Bill, which was in progress through Parliament
at the time of Bean’s attempt, received the Royal sanction a few days later.
Sir Robert Peel, while consulting with Prince Albert shortly after the
attempt, was so overcome by the sudden entry of her Majesty that he burst
into tears, although usually a very self-contained man. The frequent
repetition of such outrages was indeed a serious matter, and after the Francis
affair the Queen admitted that for some time she had had a presentiment of
danger hovering over her. On the occasion of Bean’s attempt, her Majesty
was not aware that anything had occurred until after her return to the Palace.
Being informed of the fact, she calmly observed that she had expected a
repetition of these attacks as long as the law remained unaltered by which

they could be dealt with only as acts of high treason. The change in the law
was doubtless advisable, since it is well known that it is not so much the
severity as the certainty of punishment which deters the evilly-disposed; yet
such acts will occur from time to time as long as vanity and envy remain
passions of the human heart.

CHAPTER VII.

CONVULSIONS IN THE EAST.

Approaches to a Great Tragedy—State of Afghanistan—Position of Dost Mahomed in 1836—
Mission of Captain Burnes to Cabul in 1837—Afghanistan, England, and Russia—Determination
of the Governor-General of India to Restore Shah Soojah to the Afghan Throne—Garbling of
Burnes’s Despatches—Action of the Anglo-Indian Government against the Russians before Herat
—British Invasion of Afghanistan in 1839—Difficulties, Dangers, and Successes of the
Campaign—Cold Reception of Shah Soojah at Cabul—Operations in the Khyber Pass—
Outbreak of Insurrections against the Restored Power—Actions with the British—Surrender of
Dost Mahomed—Increased Turmoil among the Afghans—Massacre of November 2nd, 1841—
Imbecility of General Elphinstone—Murder of Sir William Macnaghten—Agreement between
the British Authorities and Akbar Khan—Retreat of the Army of Occupation—Horrors of the
March, and Complete Destruction of the Army—Defence of Jelalabad by Sir Robert Sale—
Operations of Generals Nott, Pollock, and Sale—Capture of Cabul—Release of the Prisoners,
and Close of the War—Lord Ellenborough and the Gates of Somnauth—Murder of Stoddart and
Conolly in Bokhara—Disturbed State of England in 1842—The Queen’s First Visit to Scotland—
Receipt of Good News from the East—Position of Prince Albert towards the State—Discretion of
his Private Life—Extent of his Labours—Colonisation in New Zealand and New South Wales.

For some years there had been proceeding in the East a series of events
which, in the early part of 1842, eventuated in one of the most tragical
catastrophes of modern history. To the west of Northern India lies the
independent kingdom of Afghanistan, or Cabul, as it is sometimes called
after the capital city. The country is mountainous, barren, and austere; the
people—to whom some attribute a Jewish origin, but who are certainly a
very mixed race—are courageous, warlike, revengeful, predatory in their
habits, yet not wanting in some manly virtues. They are Mohammedans of
the Sunnite communion, and consequently regard the Turkish Sultan as the
head of the Moslem world; yet their tolerance is so great that they allow
several Persian Shiites to occupy high official posts, without any restriction
on their distinctive rites. Afghanistan has from time to time been a
conquering State. In the fifteenth century, it planted a dynasty on the throne
of Delhi, which lasted until overthrown by the Mogul Baber in 1526. In the
early years of the eighteenth century, it gave two monarchs to Persia, of
which it had in ancient times formed a part; but the intruders were speedily
expelled. The military genius of the Afghans, however, was not to be long
kept down; and after the founding of the Durani dynasty by Ahmed Khan, in
1747, an immense Afghan Empire was rapidly created, which spread from

Herat into Hindostan, and from the banks of the Oxus to the Arabian Sea.
This dominion broke up early in the present century, and in 1836 the Ameer
Dost Mahomed was ruling at Cabul over a territory not very extensive or
important.
This somewhat petty sovereign had at his disposal a revenue of 1,400,000
dollars, and an army of 18,000 men. But his dominions were in a disturbed
state, and, at the same time, he was at war with Lahore in the east, while, in
the west, the Persians had attacked Herat, at that date ruled by one of the
Durani princes. Dost Mahomed was therefore very desirous of securing the
friendship of the British in India. Lord Auckland, then Governor-General at
Calcutta, was disposed to enter into negotiations with the Ameer, conceiving
that English power in the East was menaced by the intrigues of Russia,
Persia, and Afghanistan. He therefore, in September, 1837, despatched
Captain Alexander Burnes to Cabul, with instructions to discuss certain
matters. Unfortunately, Captain Burnes was not authorised to promise Dost
Mahomed the assistance which he required, to assume a position of
independence towards Persia and Russia. Both these Powers were acting for
the advancement of their own interests; and, although the Ameer had listened
to their suggestions, he told the British envoy that he would much rather co-
operate with England, if he could obtain the terms he needed. Burnes urged
upon the Governor-General of India the policy of guaranteeing the integrity
of the Ameer’s realm, or at least of promising him a subsidy in case of
attack. But Lord Auckland would do neither, while at the same moment
ordering the distracted chieftain to abandon all negotiations with the rival
Powers. The natural consequence was that Dost Mahomed again leant
towards the liberal, though interested, offers of Russia; but even then he
would gladly have considered the proposals of England, had any been made.
The Governor-General, however, preferred to enter into a treaty with Runjeet
Singh and Shah Soojah—the former a leader of the Sikhs, the latter a
descendant of Ahmed Khan, who had once before ruled in Afghanistan, who
had been expelled from the throne, and who was generally detested by the
people. Runjeet Singh was to be maintained at Peshawur (to which the
Afghans considered they had a claim), and Shah Soojah to be restored to the
throne of Cabul with the assistance of an English army. A more unjustifiable,
a more fatal, choice was never made.
In his despatches to Lord Auckland, Captain Burnes repeatedly expressed
a strong opinion against the abandonment of Dost Mahomed; but these

despatches, when published by the British Government long after the
writer’s premature and miserable death, were so shamefully garbled that
they seemed, by implication, to show that Burnes had actually supported the
very policy he strenuously condemned. The fact subsequently came out, and
nothing like a defence—not even a decent palliation—could be offered. The
English people were kept studiously in the dark as to these manipulations;
indeed, they knew very little as to what was passing on the North-western
frontiers of India and beyond. Yet those events were of the gravest character,
and carried with them a train of consequences which involved the whole of
the United Kingdom in a black cloud of mourning and dismay. For a while,
however, matters seemed to go very well. The Persian attack on Herat—
which was in truth a Russian attack in disguise—had been held in check by
the courage of the garrison, led, instructed, and inspirited by the skill and
heroism of a young officer, named Eldred Pottinger, who was staying there
at the time. Nevertheless, the place

ELDRED POTTINGER AT HERAT. (See p. 113.)
would not have been saved but for the action of the Anglo-Indian
Government, which in 1838 sent a naval squadron to the Persian Gulf, and
gave the Shah to understand that, if he carried his operations any farther, his
persistence would be regarded as a proof of hostility to England. This had
the desired effect. The blockade of Herat was abandoned, and the position
was saved. The discomfiture of the Persians was a triumph effected without
bloodshed, and really valuable in its results. Herat has always been regarded

as the key of India, and justly so, when we consider that all the great roads
from the west converge within its territory, and that it is capable of
producing whatever an army may require.
Captain Burnes left Cabul on the 26th of April, 1838, and met Lord
Auckland at Simla. On the 1st of October in the same year, a manifesto was
issued by the Governor-General, which was virtually a declaration of war
against Dost Mahomed. Mr. (afterwards Sir William) Macnaghten, Secretary
to the Government of India, was appointed Minister at the court of Shah
Soojah, before any such court existed; and he was to be helped in his
operations by Sir Alexander Burnes, for the discredited envoy had now been
made a knight. Unanticipated alterations of plan, consequent on the bad faith
of Runjeet Singh, who at the last moment refused to allow a passage through
his dominions, as he had promised, delayed the starting of the expedition,
which did not get on its way until the late winter of 1839. The army, which
was in three divisions, consisted of British troops, Afghans, and Sikhs; and it
was encumbered with a large number of camp-followers and baggage-
animals. The routes pursued were beset by all those difficulties which belong
to a mountainous and rocky land. Numbers of men and camels were lost; the
soldiers were disheartened by fatigue, and by the gloom of their
surroundings; food began to fail; the supplies which were expected at
Quetta, beyond the further end of the Bolan Pass, were not forthcoming; and
the two principal divisions of the invading force, which had now effected
their junction, pushed forward, in a half-famished state, and by a long and
difficult defile, to Candahar, which was reached on the 25th of April. The
city surrendered without a blow; but the army was now greatly reduced in
numbers, and could not reckon more than 10,400 fighting men. Shah Soojah
was proclaimed at Candahar, and Sir John Keane, who had command of the
whole invading force, while attached more particularly to the Bombay
column, then set out for Ghizni, two hundred and thirty miles distant from
Candahar, which was itself more than a thousand miles from the points of
departure.
Ghizni offered a determined resistance, but was taken by storm on the
23rd of July, when the son of Dost Mahomed, Gholam Hyder Khan, who
held the command, was captured. Sir John Keane next pushed on to Cabul,
where the fall of Ghizni had produced a feeling of such extreme
consternation that the Ameer found himself unable to act against the enemy,
and therefore fled with a few attendants to the mountain solitudes of the

Hindoo Koosh, on the north-eastern boundary of Afghanistan. The English
army, accompanied by Shah Soojah, entered Cabul on the 7th of August; but
the demeanour of the people was cold, and the British were detested as
strangers, as conquerors, and as Christians. On September 3rd, the invaders
were joined by the third division, consisting for the most part of Afghans and
Sikhs, under the orders of Colonel Wade, who had taken the fort of Ali
Musjid (situated in a narrow part of the Khyber Pass) and the city of
Jelalabad. It now seemed as if the Afghans were entirely subdued, and, in its
premature satisfaction, the British Government showered honours on the
persons principally concerned. Lord Auckland was made an Earl; Sir John
Keane a Baron, with a pension of £2,000; and Mr. Macnaghten a Baronet.
Other officials received inferior distinctions, and Shah Soojah created an
Order of the Durani Empire, the insignia of which were bestowed on many
English officers. Nevertheless, the people were thoroughly discontented, and
surveyed with a sullen eye the military reviews and splendid ceremonials
which it was hoped would reconcile them to the restored rule of Shah
Soojah. They were not reconciled, for the new sovereign was regarded as the
mere creature of the British authorities, whose pensioner he had been for
many years, and by whom he was now forcibly imposed on a reluctant
people, who had never invited his return.
The new settlement was believed to be so entirely safe that many of our
troops were sent back long before the close of 1839, and the occupying force
then consisted of 8,000 men, Europeans and Sepoys. As if inspired by some
evil fate, the English officers wrote to India for their wives and children. In
the spring of 1840, the British and Sepoy regiments were removed from the
Bala Hissar (a fortified palace of great strength), and stationed in
cantonments on the neighbouring plain, where they had scarcely any
protection against the sudden attack of an enemy. These attacks speedily
came. The country began to seethe with insurrection. British outposts were
assailed, and, as the summer advanced, the fighting became serious. Dost
Mahomed was again in arms, moving about rapidly from place to place, and
sometimes gaining the advantage. In one of these encounters, he discomfited
a British force under Sir Robert Sale, by whom he was attacked, on the 2nd
of November, in the Purwandurrah valley. The disaster was chiefly owing to
the misconduct of some Hindoo cavalry, who precipitately retreated, and
sought shelter among the English guns. Everything was thrown into
confusion, and Sale’s force was only just able to cut its way back to Cabul. It

might reasonably have been supposed that, after this brilliant success, Dost
Mahomed (whose heroism and capacity have been warmly acknowledged by
English writers) would have advanced with all his warriors to the capital.
But he felt his inability to cope with such a power as England, and on the
following day he rode up to the quarters of Sir William Macnaghten,
introduced himself as the deposed Ameer, and delivered up his sword. When
the British Minister had recovered from his surprise, he returned the sword,
treated his prisoner with due honour, and, on the 12th of November, sent him
to India under a strong escort. Again, apparently, had Fortune smiled upon
the English cause.
But the insurrection against the authority of Shah Soojah still continued
with unabated violence. In spite of this obvious danger, however, the British
army of occupation was still further reduced in 1841, and the pension to
native chiefs for abstaining from plunder was considerably lessened. The
peril increased with every day; yet only a few of the military or civil officers
could perceive its existence. Sir William Macnaghten and Sir Alexander
Burnes appear to have been perfectly contented with the existing state of
things; though Sir Robert Sale, having been sent to quell an insurrection of
the Ghiljies, found his communications with Cabul seriously threatened, and
though Major Pottinger (Eldred Pottinger, the defender of Herat) warned Sir
William of the danger by which he was menaced. Sir John Keane having
returned to England, the chief command of the British forces devolved on
Sir Willoughby Cotton, who had previously led the Bengal column. Cotton
was a man of approved ability, but

FORT ALI MUSJID IN THE KHYBER PASS.
he was soon afterwards superseded by General Elphinstone—an old and
infirm officer, whose nerves were quite unfitted to sustain the shock by
which they were soon to be entirely shattered. Sir William Macnaghten
having been appointed to the Governorship of Bombay, his position as
British Minister at Cabul was conferred on Sir Alexander Burnes; but, owing
to the disturbed state of the country, the former was unable to leave the
Afghan capital, and consequently fell in the massacre which shortly
afterwards broke out. Cabul burst into a flame of excitement on the morning
of November 2nd—the very day after that on which Burnes had assumed his
new functions, and when he congratulated Macnaghten on leaving
Afghanistan in a state of “profound tranquillity.” The mob surrounded the
residence of Burnes, threatened him and his brother, and shot his military
secretary, Lieutenant Broadfoot. One of the insurgents, who

SIR ROBERT AND LADY SALE.
had sworn by the Koran that he would escort the brothers in safety to the
fort, treacherously betrayed them to the rioters, by whom they were slain
with knives. All the other inhabitants of the house, including women and
children, were also murdered, and the edifice itself was burnt to ashes.
General Elphinstone, who was in the cantonments with his troops, seems to
have been utterly prostrated by the news, nor were any of his officers better
prepared for the emergency. No steps were taken against the insurgents, and
Elphinstone contented himself with saying that they must wait until the
morning, and then see what could be done.
All he did when the morning came was to send urgent messages to Sir
Robert Sale, who was then on his way to Jelalabad, to proceed as rapidly as
possible to Cabul. Sir Robert, however, thought it a matter of such
paramount importance to keep open the communications with India, that he
pursued his way to Jelalabad, and fortunately so, as was proved by after
events. General Nott despatched three regiments to Candahar, in the hope of
relieving the Cabul garrison; but the difficulties of the way and the severity
of the weather were so great that they turned back, after accomplishing a
portion of the distance. The cantonments at Cabul were now commanded by
two guns, which the Afghans had planted on a neighbouring hill; and the
British troops failed in an attempt to break out into the open country. The
supplies of food ran short, and ultimately failed altogether; so that an
agreement of some kind became an absolute necessity. The last act of Sir

William Macnaghten was to open negotiations with the Afghan chiefs; but
on the 23rd of December—a few days later—he was treacherously murdered
by Akbar Khan, the eldest son of Dost Mahomed, who was now the leader of
the insurrection. The two had entered into some rather obscure negotiations
for making Akbar the Vizier and virtual master of Shah Soojah, and putting
down the other chiefs. An interview was arranged for discussing this project;
but a misunderstanding arose, and Macnaghten was shot by Akbar Khan,
who afterwards, however, expressed great remorse for the deed. Shah Soojah
appears to have acted with energy and good faith; but at the very
commencement of the revolt his troops were overpowered by superior
numbers, and he could now do nothing. The action of the malcontents was
characterised by the utmost treachery. They had undertaken to furnish
supplies, if the forts which guarded the cantonments were placed in their
hands. The terms were accepted, but no food was forthcoming, while the
possession of the forts by the enemy placed the cantonments wholly at his
mercy. Matters therefore proceeded from bad to worse, and at length it was
agreed that all the guns, excepting six, together with all the treasure, should
be relinquished; that four officers should be put into the hands of the chiefs
as hostages; and that 40,000 rupees, in bills drawn upon India, to be
negotiated on the spot by some Hindoo bankers, should be paid to the
Afghans. In exchange for these concessions, Akbar Khan promised to
conduct the English regiments to Jelalabad; but he had not the power, even if
he had the will, to make good his words. Our share of the agreement was
honourably carried out to the minutest tittle; that of the Afghans was
murderously broken.
The cantonments were quitted by the British troops on the 6th of January,
1842. The troops not unnaturally murmured at having to give up the guns
and ammunition; but there was no help for it, and the doomed regiments
filed out towards the desert in a condition little capable of successful defence
against attack. The number of fighting men was not more than 4,500 (chiefly
Asiatics); but they were accompanied by 12,000 camp-followers, including
the wives and children of the officers. An inclement winter, with deep snow
encumbering all the roads, added to the horrors of the time, and the Ghiljies
began to attack the rear-guard immediately it had got clear of the
cantonments. The fugitives entered the Khoord-Cabul Pass on the 8th of
January, 1842, and attacks now became frequent and unsparing. The Afghans
were posted on the surrounding crags, and the English officers and troops

began to fall rapidly. Many of the women were carried away; many of the
children were killed. Fatigue, cold, and deprivation slew as many as the
bullets of the lurking foe. Some of our men became mutinous, and
intoxicated themselves with the stores of brandy which they had violently
seized. Ere long, all military discipline was lost. The men thought only of
themselves, and, disregarding the commands of their officers, hurried on
towards Jelalabad as fast as horses, camels, or their own legs, could carry
them. Several were frozen every night by the intense cold; and those who
woke in the morning, woke simply to a prospect of despair. One gloomy and
rugged pass succeeded another; but the relentless Afghans were stationed at
every point, and their matchlocks brought down the scattered fugitives with
unresting activity. More than once, Akbar Khan entered into communication
with the English officers, and, upon receiving further hostages, made
promises of assistance which were not fulfilled. Occasionally the British
troops and the Sepoys made a desperate stand, and for a moment drove back
their assailants; but, as day succeeded day, their numbers became fewer, and
the spirit of resistance died within them. On the 12th and 13th of January, the
force was reduced to a mere fragment; but, in proportion to the smallness of
their numbers, the men seemed to recover the habits of discipline they had
lost, and, standing close together, entered into hand-to-hand conflicts with
the Afghans, in which the latter suffered severely. The position, however,
was absolutely hopeless, and, in the course of January 13th, thirty soldiers—
all who were now left, though the camp-followers still numbered two or
three hundred—took up their station on the slopes of a hill, and fought with
wonderful resolution until overpowered and slain. Setting aside the hostages,
all were now exterminated—English, Sepoys, and camp-followers; all, with
the exception of one man, who, wounded, and in a state approaching
exhaustion, rode up to the walls of Jelalabad on that fatal 13th of January,
still holding in his nerveless grasp a broken and unavailing sword. The
survivor of the great catastrophe was Dr. Brydon, one of the medical
officers, who had somehow managed to escape the massacre, and who
conveyed intelligence of what had happened to General Sale and his gallant
companions, then holding a position which in itself was desperate.
On one of the occasions when Akbar Khan held parley with the fugitives,
he suggested that the ladies and children should be given up to him, and he
undertook to convey them in safety to Peshawur. These terms were accepted,
with the single modification that the husbands of the married ladies should

accompany their wives. As the women and children could not have escaped
massacre, or death from cold and fatigue, had they remained with the army,
the arrangement was a wise one, as it offered them at least a chance of life.
They were treated with some consideration, and ultimately rescued during
the military operations of a later period. Two days later—namely, on the 11th
of January—Akbar Khan again entered into negotiations with the English
officers, and demanded that General Elphinstone, Brigadier Shelton, and
Captain Johnson, should be given up to him as additional hostages. This was
done, and the chief commander of the British forces went into captivity with
his two subordinates. The treaty concluded by General Elphinstone and
Akbar Khan, before the former quitted Cabul, contained an article stipulating
that the English force at Jelalabad should march for Peshawur before the
Cabul army arrived, and should not delay on the road. Information of this
agreement was conveyed to Jelalabad by a band of horsemen, who, under
cover of a flag of truce, presented

THE REMNANT OF AN ARMY: ARRIVAL OF DR. BRYDON
AT JELALABAD. (See p. 119.)
(Sketch of the Picture by Lady Butler.)
themselves before the gates. They bore with them a despatch from General
Elphinstone, ordering Sir Robert Sale to evacuate the country without delay.
Sale was placed in a very difficult position; for Elphinstone was his superior
officer, and yet to obey his orders, as by strict military duty he was bound to
do, might entail the destruction of his whole force. He accordingly
summoned a council of war, at which it was formally resolved that to obey
such an order would be imprudent. The position, therefore, was held with
splendid gallantry. The ruined fortifications had already been reconstructed,

and every effort was now made to supply the town with food and fuel. It was
known that an army under General Pollock was hastening to the relief of the
garrison; but some time must elapse ere it could arrive, and in the meanwhile
the situation was fraught with peril. Akbar Khan, with a numerous army, had
appeared before the walls; but Sale determined to hold out to the last. On the
19th of January, an earthquake shook the defences of the town into ruins;
and had
Akbar immediately assaulted the place, it is almost
certain that he would have taken it. Probably, the
unexpected convulsion inspired him with awe, and, as
the English at once set to work to repair the damage that
had been done, they were soon in a position to resist
attack. In the early part of April, food and ammunition
began to fail, and the spirited commander determined
on active operations. On the 7th of the month the
Afghans were attacked and driven off. With the remnant
DOST MAHOMED. of his disheartened army, Akbar fled towards Cabul,
leaving in our hands a vast amount of stores. Pollock
was with difficulty forcing his way through the Khyber
Pass; on the 16th of April he arrived at Jelalabad; at the same time, General
Nott and Major (afterwards Sir Henry) Rawlinson were holding Candahar;
but Colonel Palmer, after a gallant defence, was forced to surrender Ghizni
to the Afghans. In the same month which witnessed the
relief of Jelalabad, Shah Soojah was assassinated by
the adherents of his elder brother—a man, like himself,
far advanced in years. The position of Nott at Candahar
was precarious, but, when at length relieved, he was
able to join Sale and Pollock in an advance on Cabul,
where they resolved to avenge the injuries of their
countrymen. The chief command was in the hands of
Nott, who showed himself a thoroughly capable officer.
His first proceeding was to retake Ghizni, and on the
17th of September all three divisions effected their AKBAR KHAN.
junction at Cabul. It is lamentable to be obliged to add
that the city was pillaged by our infuriated soldiers,
though perhaps not with the sanction of their commanders, and that needless
destruction and slaughter marked the path of the avenging army.

The English prisoners, including the women and children, had during
their captivity been frequently moved about from place to place, often in the
most terrible extremities of weather, and under circumstances of great
hardship; but when the British army arrived at Cabul, they were on their way
back to that city. General Elphinstone had died on the 23rd of April; the
other members of the party were alive and well. On the 12th of October, the
invaders left Cabul, and again, as on the occasion of their advance, passed
through defiles still rendered terrible by the whitening bones of their
comrades. The greater part of Jelalabad was destroyed, together with the
fortifications; Ali Musjid, in the Khyber Pass, was blown into the air; and
Afghanistan was entirely evacuated by our troops before the close of 1842.
The policy of Lord Auckland was now completely reversed by his successor,
Lord Ellenborough, whose term of office had commenced on the 28th of
February. In announcing the withdrawal of the British forces from
Afghanistan (which he did in a proclamation dated from Simla on the 1st of
October), Lord Ellenborough observed that “to force a sovereign upon a
reluctant people would be as inconsistent with the policy as it is with the
principles of the British Government.” That, no doubt, was the only just
position to assume; but it should have been assumed three or four years
earlier, and England would then have been spared one of the greatest and
most humiliating disasters in the long course of her history. Our interposition
had entailed infinite misery on ourselves and on the Afghans, and it had been
absolutely unproductive of any good whatever. The country which we had
taken under our protection, and from which we had been ignominiously
expelled, was now in a state of anarchy, and, as that anarchy was of our own
creation, it behoved us to do something towards the restoration of order.
Dost Mahomed was set at liberty by the Anglo-Indian Government; and he
whom we had refused to recognise in 1838, whom we had driven forth in
1839, and whom we received as a prisoner in 1840, was in 1843 restored to
the throne which he seems to have had a legitimate claim to fill. His reign
was thus divided into two parts, and the division is marked by a wide river of
human blood.
After a tragedy, it was formerly the custom to play a farce. One might
almost suppose that the principle involved in this theatrical usage had
influenced the mind of Lord Ellenborough in a certain exploit which he
performed, in a very demonstrative spirit, shortly after the conclusion of the
Afghan war. When Sultan Mahmoud took the Hindoo city of Somnauth, in

1025, he carried away with him the gates of the vast temple dedicated to the
god Soma, the idols of which he had shattered and cast down. These trophies
were taken to the Imperial city of Ghizni, from which Mahmoud ruled his
wide possessions; and there they had remained, or something like them had
been preserved, during a period of more than eight hundred years. Lord
Ellenborough was a man of great ability, but of somewhat grandiose and
theatrical tastes, even in the management of practical affairs. He therefore
determined to bring back the so-called Gates of Somnauth to the place
whence they had been originally removed. The act would have been foolish
enough, even had the genuineness of the gates been entirely beyond dispute,
which was very far from the case. The Mohammedans could not but have
felt insulted by the restoration of anything connected with a gross idolatry,
formerly destroyed by one of the most illustrious of Moslem sovereigns;
while the Hindoos were simply reminded of their ancient disgrace and
humiliation. These considerations, however, were absent from the mind of
Lord Ellenborough, or disregarded by him; and on the 16th of November,
1842, he issued a sonorous proclamation to all the princes, chiefs, and
people of India. “My brothers and my friends,” he said, “our victorious army
bears the gates of the Temple of Somnauth in triumph from Afghanistan, and
the despoiled tomb of Sultan Mahmoud looks upon the ruins of Ghizni. The
insult of eight hundred years is at last avenged. The gates of the Temple of
Somnauth, so long the memorial of your humiliation, are become the
proudest record of your national glory,—the proof of your superiority in
arms over the nations beyond the Indus. To you, princes and chiefs of
Sirhind, of Rajwarra, of Malwa and Guzerat, I shall commit this glorious
trophy of successful war. You will yourselves, with all honour, transmit the
gates of sandal-wood through your respective territories to the restored
Temple of Somnauth.” On the 14th of January, 1843, the gates were carried
into Delhi in state, under a canopy of crimson and gold; but the proceedings
afterwards created great annoyance in England, and were made the subject
of animated Parliamentary debates.
Again we must revert to tragedy, for it is impossible to pass over, in the
events of this period, some terrible circumstances which occurred in
Bokhara, and of which two of our own countrymen were the victims.
Colonel Stoddart had been sent a few years previously to the Persian camp
before Herat, to insist that Persia must abandon the siege of that important
position. Thence he proceeded on some official business to Bokhara, where,

after a time, the Ameer became suspicious of his designs, and threw him into
prison. At a later date, Captain Arthur Conolly was sent into the same
country, but, after making a vain attempt to procure the liberation of
Stoddart, was himself confined in a subterranean dungeon, where he and his
fellow-sufferer were kept in complete darkness, without being allowed to
change their clothes, or to wash themselves, and with a very insufficient
supply of food, which was let down to them once in four or five days. The
Ameer suspected the two strangers of being spies in the employment of his
enemies, and their case was considerably prejudiced by the refusal of the
Indian and Home Governments to recognise the captives as official agents.
Conolly had in the first instance gone to Khokand, where he was engaged in
endeavouring to effect the release of slaves; but Lord Ellenborough declared
that he had no knowledge of his mission to that country having been
authorised, and he added that that unfortunate officer had been expressly
instructed by the President of the Board of Control not to go to Khokand, so
that, it was remarked, he in all probability owed his misfortunes to the direct
transgression of those orders. How far these statements are to be accepted as
absolute truth, appears somewhat doubtful; but at any rate the adoption of
such a tone was ill calculated to obtain the release of the prisoners from a
ferocious tyrant like the Ameer of Bokhara. Appeals, it is true, were made to
his good feelings; but unfortunately he did not possess any, and the condition
of the prisoners became progressively worse. Under these circumstances, Dr.
Wolff, a German Jew who had been converted to Christianity, courageously
undertook an expedition to Bokhara, in the hope of delivering the prisoners.
On arriving in that country, however, he heard they had already been put to
death. The

HOLYROOD PALACE, EDINBURGH.
double execution seems to have been in the summer of 1843, some time
before Dr. Wolff even set out on his expedition. The heroic missionary was
himself imprisoned for a considerable time, but at length obtained his
release, and came to England in 1845, when he was enthusiastically received
by all who had watched his fortunes with mingled admiration and alarm.
While Afghanistan was distracted by a vengeful war, the general state of
England continued even worse than in the earlier part of the year. Parliament
was prorogued on the 12th of August, 1842, by the Queen in person, and in
the Speech from the Throne her Majesty expressed a hope that the members
of the two Houses “would do their utmost to encourage, by example and
active exertions, that spirit of order and submission to the law without which
there

THE QUEEN’S ENTRY INTO EDINBURGH. (See p. 127.)
can be no enjoyment of the fruits of peaceful industry, and no advance in the
career of social improvement.” Sedition was indeed becoming more ripe
every day. In the manufacturing towns, mills were violently entered by
disorderly mobs, their machinery was destroyed, and those who were willing
to work were compelled to abandon their labours. Manchester was in so
disturbed a state that a regiment of the Guards was despatched thither to
overawe the malcontents; and in many of the northern towns collisions,
attended by bloodshed and loss of life, occurred from time to time. The
demand of the workpeople was for increase of wages; but political ideas also

were mixed up with the purely social question. The Chartists joined the
discontented artisans, and for a while the Government was seriously
alarmed. But the arrest of the leaders struck terror into the rest, and, as the
autumn advanced, the worst of the danger was at an end. In the west of
Scotland, however, disturbances continued for some time longer; yet it was
at this period that the Queen and Prince Albert paid their first visit to the
Northern Kingdom.
It had been intended by the Royal couple to visit Belgium in the autumn
of 1842, to meet there some members of the family of Louis Philippe. This
design, however, was frustrated by the unhappy death of the Duke of
Orleans, who was killed by an accident on the 13th of July. The Duke was
the favourite brother of the Queen of the Belgians, and the sad event threw
both Courts into the deepest mourning. Her Majesty and Prince Albert were
profoundly afflicted by the casualty, and, being unable to visit Belgium,
resolved to turn their faces towards Scotland. Notwithstanding the
turbulence of the Scottish working classes in the manufacturing cities, the
reception given to the Queen and her husband was of the most enthusiastic
character, and the journey of 1842 became a precedent for many later years.
The Royal yacht was accompanied by a squadron of nine vessels, in addition
to which were the Trinity House steamer and a packet. The voyage was slow
and tedious, and her Majesty suffered a good deal from the roughness of the
sea. She was much struck by the first appearance of the Scottish coast, which
she describes as “dark, rocky, bold, and wild.” At half-past six on the
evening of August 31st, they passed St. Abb’s Head, and her Majesty records
that “numbers of fishing boats (in one of which was a piper playing), and
steamers full of people, came out to meet us, and on board of one large
steamer they danced a reel to a band. It was a beautiful evening, calm, with a
fine sunset, and the air so pure.”[14] As the Royal yacht proceeded up the
Firth of Forth under the gathering darkness, the neighbouring heights were
seen to be lighted with beacon-fires, to which the yacht responded by
sending up rockets and burning blue lights. The Royal party landed at Leith
on the 1st of September, and drove in a barouche to Edinburgh, with which
both the Queen and Prince Albert were greatly pleased. The various
historical monuments and buildings in the Scottish capital, and the objects of
interest in the neighbourhood, proved sources of great delight to the
distinguished visitors; and Prince Albert, writing to the Duchess of Saxe-
Gotha on the 18th of September, shortly after the return to Windsor, says:

—“Scotland has made a most favourable impression upon us both. The
country is full of beauty, of a severe and grand character; perfect for sport,
and the air remarkably pure and light in comparison with what we have here.
The people are more natural, and marked by that honesty and sympathy
which always distinguish the inhabitants of mountainous countries who live
away from towns. There is, moreover, no country where historical traditions
are preserved with such fidelity, or to the same extent.” Although the stay of
the Royal visitors was not very long, they entered the Highlands, and at
every point were received with the warmth which Scotsmen are not slow to
exhibit when their national pride is delicately touched.
When the Queen first entered Edinburgh, there had been a slight mistake,
which occasioned some inconvenience. It was expected that her Majesty
would be received by the Lord Provost and magistrates of the city; but,
owing to a misconception as to the hour of landing, they were not there. To
make up for the disappointment thus occasioned, the Queen re-entered the
city on the 3rd of September, when she was received in state by the
authorities. The route, which was crowded with sight-seers, was from
Holyrood, up the Canongate and High Street, to the Castle, and then by the
Earthen Mound and Princes Street to Dalmeny Park, the seat of the Earl of
Rosebery. On the same day, the foundation-stone of Victoria Hall, designed
for the use of the General Assembly of the Kirk, was laid in honour of her
Majesty’s visit; and on later days the seats of some of the Scottish nobility
were visited by the Royal party, when a great deal was seen of the Highland
clans and their feudal usages. The Queen sailed from Granton Pier on the
15th of September, and a letter was addressed to the Lord Advocate by the
Earl of Aberdeen, in which the latter was instructed to say:—“The Queen
will leave Scotland with a feeling of regret that her visit on the present
occasion could not be farther prolonged. Her Majesty fully expected to
witness the loyalty and attachment of her Scottish subjects; but the devotion
and enthusiasm evinced in every quarter, and by all ranks, have produced an
impression on the mind of her Majesty which can never be effaced.” The
journey was in many respects a memorable one; and shortly after the return
of her Majesty and the Prince, they received intelligence of the fall of Ghizni
and Cabul, of the rescue of the prisoners in Afghanistan, and of the
conclusion of peace with China. The news reached them on the 23rd of
November at Walmer Castle, which had been placed at their disposal by the
Duke of Wellington. It was the desire of the Queen that a Chinese and also

an Afghan medal should be struck, and distributed throughout the armies.
Lord Ellenborough however, had already, though without due authority,
issued medals to the Indian army, and all that her Majesty could now do was
to confer honours on the combatants in China.
The interest of Prince Albert in English politics continued to increase
with every year, and the Queen leant proportionately on his judgment for
direction in affairs of State. The Prince never obtruded his advice, yet it was
none the less a subtle influence, pervading the mind of his consort, and
operating for good in many ways. The Ministry of Sir Robert Peel was even
more inclined than that of Lord Melbourne to admit this influence; and as
early as 1842 suggestions were made that, in the event of the Duke of
Wellington’s death, the office of Commander-in-Chief should be conferred
upon the Prince. Baron Stockmar, whose judgment was frequently appealed
to on such matters, both by the Royal Family and the Government, was
consulted on this subject; but the project met with his entire disapproval. It
was one of many instances showing the good sense possessed by that
devoted friend of the Prince and of her Majesty. The occupation of such a
post by a foreigner would not unreasonably have offended the
susceptibilities of the English nation. The Prince himself saw the wisdom of
the Baron’s advice, though it would seem that there was occasionally a little
sensitiveness in his own mind as to the light in which he was regarded by
Englishmen generally. His secretary, Mr. Anson, has recorded that one day,
about this period, the Prince, in reading Hallam’s “Constitutional History,”
copied out and sent to him a passage concerning William III., which runs:
—“The demeanour of William, always cold, and sometimes harsh, his
foreign origin (a sort of crime in English eyes), etc., conspired to keep alive
this disaffection.” In talking over this matter with the Prince, Mr. Anson
observed that a laudable and natural jealousy of foreigners prevailed in the
minds of Englishmen, but that he did not think any such feeling existed
towards the Prince himself. His Royal Highness fully admitted this view, and
acknowledged the kindness with which he had been received in England. Yet
it is difficult to understand why he should have made so pointed an extract,
unless he had thought that it contained, by reflection, some kind of reference
to his own case.
In one respect especially, the example of Prince Albert was of the greatest
value to the whole nation. He maintained a high character for honour and
purity in the Court, and thence, by a species of moral contagion of the better

kind, throughout the circles with which he was immediately connected.
From the very commencement of his career in England, he determined, not
merely that his actions should be free from reproach, but that his whole
conduct should be so strictly governed as to render reproach impossible.
This noble resolve has been well described by General Grey, who, in his
interesting work on the early life of the Prince, writes:—“He imposed a
degree of restraint and self-denial upon his own movements which could not
but have been irksome, had he not been sustained by a sense of the
advantage which the Throne would derive from it. He denied himself the
pleasure—which, to one so fond as he was of personally watching and
inspecting every improvement that was in progress, would have been very
great—of walking at will about the town. Wherever he went, whether in a
carriage or on horseback, he was accompanied by his equerry. He paid no
visits in general society. His visits were to the studio of the artist, to
museums of art or science, to institutions for good and benevolent purposes.
Wherever a visit from him, or his presence, could tend to advance the real
good of the people, there his horses might be seen waiting; never at the door
of mere

LORD JOHN RUSSELL. (From the
Statue by Sir J. E. Boehm, R.A.)
fashion.”[15] To this testimony may be added that of her Majesty, who has
recorded that he would frequently return to luncheon at a great pace, and
would always come through the Queen’s dressing-room, where she
generally was at that time, with that bright, loving smile with which he ever
greeted her; telling where he had been—what new buildings he had seen—
what studios, &c., he had visited. Riding for mere riding’s sake he disliked,
and said, “It bores me so!”
By this date his time was fully occupied, for he had undertaken many
duties, and was obliged to see many people. In the autumn of 1842 he
undertook some of the duties of the Privy Purse, which until then had been
discharged by the Baroness Lehzen; and it was about this time that he began
to give serious attention to that reorganisation of the Royal Household
which has already been described. The demands upon him had indeed
become so incessant that he was often obliged to sacrifice his hasty rides. In
the December of the same year her Majesty writes to Baron Stockmar to the
effect that measures should be taken “to prevent his being besieged in
London by so many unnecessary people. His health is so invaluable, not

only to me (to whom he is more than all-in-all), but to this whole country,
that we must do our duty, and manage that he is not so overwhelmed with
people.” The Prince was in fact a working man in the truest sense of the
word. His life was one of almost incessant toil, and the pleasures with
which he lightened and relieved it were those of an intellectual inquirer,
who could be satisfied with nothing that was frivolous or base.
In the existing distress at this period of our history, much attention was
given to colonisation. On the 28th of April, a meeting was held in London
under the Presidency of the Archbishop of Canterbury, with a view to
raising funds for sending out Bishops to our distant possessions, and a large
sum of money was obtained for that purpose. On the same day the
preliminary expedition of the second colony to New Zealand sailed under
the command of Captain Wakefield, and the colony itself was to be formed
on the principle laid down by Mr. Edward Gibbon Wakefield, which
provided that the land-produce fund should be applied to the purpose of
obtaining labour. Scarcely anything was known of New Zealand until 1769-
70, when it was circumnavigated by Captain Cook, and found to be insular,
and not continental, as had been supposed. Very little was done in the way
of colonisation until 1839, when a New Zealand Company was established,
and the town of Wellington was founded. On the 13th of February, 1841, a
dinner was given to Lord John Russell, then Colonial Secretary, to celebrate
the foundation of England’s most recent colony; and in subsequent years the
settlement made excellent progress, though often exposed to attack from the
Maories. In 1842 a law received the Royal Assent conferring a
representative Government on New South Wales; and, from this time
forward, the colonies of Great Britain wisely received from the Home
Administration and Legislature a greater amount of attention than had been
previously bestowed.

CHAPTER VIII.

THE ADMINISTRATION OF SIR ROBERT PEEL.

Renewed Popularity of the Queen—Services of Prince Albert—A Volunteer Poet Laureate—Birth
of the Princess Alice—The Whig Deficit, and how Sir Robert Peel dealt with it—The Income
Tax, and Reduction of Duties—The Sliding Scale—Advance of Free Trade Principles—
Assassination of Mr. Drummond—The Question of Criminal Insanity—Sir Robert Peel and Mr.
Cobden—Disturbances in South Wales: “Rebecca” and her Daughters—Condition of Women in
Mines and Collieries—Lord Ashley and the Factories Act—Opinion of the Queen and Prince
Albert on the Qualities of Sir Robert Peel—Levees held by the Prince—The Frescoes for the
Houses of Parliament—Encouragement of Fresco-Painting by the Queen and Prince Albert—
The Summer House in the Gardens of Buckingham Palace—Visit of her Majesty and the Prince
to Louis Philippe at the Château d’Eu—The Duke of Wellington on the Necessity for a Council
of Regency—Designs of France on the Succession to the Spanish Throne—Dishonest
Engagement of the French King—English Opinion completely Misled—Royal Visits to
Belgium, to Cambridge, and to the Midlands—The Prince as a Fox-hunter—Model Farming—
Events in India: Wars in Scinde and Gwalior.

A very important and very happy result of Prince Albert’s influence was
seen in the revived popularity of the Queen after a few years had passed. In
1839, as the reader is aware, the feeling with which her Majesty was
regarded by a wide section of the people revealed a danger of no
inconsiderable magnitude, and threatened to give a peculiarly acrid
character to political discussion. By 1842 this sentiment had very nearly
disappeared; and the change was largely due to the companionship and
advice of the Queen’s consort. We must not forget, however, the excellent
guidance which the Prince himself received from Baron Stockmar; and
although Englishmen cannot but have felt a little jealous that their political
and social state was so much influenced by foreigners, they must have been
none the less grateful for the fact, let it come how it might. For the
improved state of public feeling Prince Albert obtained no credit at the time.
The people knew very little about him, and the aristocracy, who had
opportunities of seeing his Royal Highness, considered him somewhat cold
and haughty. The opinion was not altogether unwarranted, though it
proceeded from a misapprehension. A certain reserve of manner resulted
almost inevitably from the severe moral restrictions which the Prince laid
upon himself; but who would not purchase so great a gain at the cost of a
few external attractions, not necessarily associated with the higher virtues?

During the first few years of her reign the Queen had not the benefit
(such as it is) of those poetical eulogiums which are reasonably to be
expected by a court which maintains a Poet Laureate. Although Southey, the
then holder of the office, did not die until 1843, his mental state had for
some years been such as to render all intellectual work impossible. In this
interregnum of Parnassus, Leigh Hunt—who, a generation earlier, had been
imprisoned for libelling the Prince Regent, but who was converted to
courtliness by the liberal development of modern times—addressed some
verses to the Queen, in the earliest of which, with the quaint familiarity of
his genius, he commends her Majesty for possessing “the ripe Guelph
cheek, and good, straight Coburg brow,” which were held to be significant
of “pleasure and reason.” The poet afterwards alludes to the recent birth of
the Princess Royal in lines of touching beauty. Still speaking of the Queen
herself, he writes:—
“May her own soul, this instant, while I sing,
Be smiling, as beneath some angel’s wing,
O’er the dear life in life, the small, sweet, new,
Unselfish self, the filial self of two,
Bliss of her future eyes, her pillow’d gaze,
On whom a mother’s heart thinks close, and prays.”

Another poem, more particularly addressed to the Princess Royal,
“Three Visions occasioned by the Birth and Christening of the Prince of
Wales,” and some “Lines on the Birth of the Princess Alice” (which
occurred on the 25th of April, 1843), appeared in due succession. But the
poetical interregnum came to an end in the spring of 1843, when, owing to
the death of Southey, Wordsworth succeeded to the post; and the volunteer
lyrist was heard no more on such topics. His few courtly poems are
singularly pervaded by that profound faith in the speedy coming of a kind
of golden age of peace, wisdom, health, gentleness, and universal
prosperity, which characterised the earlier years of the present century, and
especially the mind of Leigh Hunt, but which, in the disappointments and
gathering melancholy of the present day, wears an aspect at once mournful
and tender. The conclusion of the poem to the Princess Alice is worth
quoting, because of the sad failure of its aspiration, combined with its
remarkable truthfulness in other respects. Still harping on that wondrous
age of human perfection which seems as far off as ever, the poet exclaims:
—

“Thee, meantime, fair child of one
Fit to see that golden sun,
Thee may no worse lot befall
Than a long life, April all;
Fuller, much, of hopes than fears,
Kind in smiles and kind in tears,
Graceful, cheerful, ever new,
Heaven and earth both kept in view,
While the poor look up, and bless
Thy celestial bounteousness.
And, when all thy days are done,
And sadness views thy setting sun,
Mayst thou greet thy mother’s eyes,
And endless May in Paradise.”

Shortly after the birth of the Princess Alice the Queen wrote to the King
of the Belgians:—“Albert has been, as usual, all kindness and goodness.
Our little baby is to be called Alice, an old English name, and the other
names are to be Maud (another old English name, and the same as Matilda),
and Mary, as she was born on Aunt Gloucester’s birthday. The sponsors are
to be the King of Hanover, Ernestus Primus (now the Duke of Coburg),
poor Princess Sophia Matilda, and Feodore; and the christening [is] to be on
the 2nd of June.” The ceremony went off very well; but the King of
Hanover arrived too late to be present. In after years the Princess Alice
became the wife of the Grand Duke of Hesse, and was well known for her
intelligent benevolence and charity. She died on the 14th of December,
1878.
Unfettered by indirect influences, the Government of Sir Robert Peel
was

LOBBY OF THE HOUSE OF COMMONS.
now acquiring the confidence of the country by the masterly way in which
its chief handled the great questions of the hour. One of the first things to be
dealt with was the financial deficit left by the Whigs, which had reached the
alarming total of more than ten millions for the previous six years. This was
met by the creation of an Income Tax of sevenpence in the pound; and in
the memorable statement which Sir Robert Peel made to the House of
Commons on the 11th of March, 1842, a confident expectation was held out
that the proceeds of such an impost would not merely fill up the deficit, but
yield a surplus such as would enable the Ministry to reduce the taxes on
commodities to an immense extent. All incomes below £150 were to be
exempt from the new, or rather the revived, tax; but no distinction was
made between the precarious income resulting from trades, professions, and
employments, and that derived from the much more assured source of
landed and other property. This was regarded by the professional and
mercantile classes as an injustice; but though the tax was not popular, most
persons were compelled to admit that they saw no other way out of the
difficulty. Sir Robert Peel argued that the maximum of indirect taxation had
been reached, and that to accumulate further duties on the necessaries and
luxuries of life would be productive of the greatest injury to trade, while to
reduce them would operate as a stimulus to manufactures and to commerce.
If, then, indirect taxation was shut out by the very circumstances of the

case, a tax on income was all that remained. Such an impost, amounting to
no less than ten per cent. on the income of the country, was cheerfully borne
during the war with Bonaparte; yet people thought it hard that, with no war
at all, they were to be subjected to the same vexatious demand, though at
the much lower rate of something less than three per cent. It was understood
at the time that the tax was not to last beyond three, or at the most five,
years; but in fact it has never been taken off to this day, though varying in
amount from time to time. We must never forget, however, that its
existence, unpleasant and objectionable as it is in some respects, has
enabled successive Governments to remove many millions of taxation,
which hampered trade, and seriously enhanced the price of necessaries. In
the year now passing under notice (1842), Sir Robert Peel reduced the
Customs duties on 750 out of 1,200 articles, and entirely abolished the
duties on some minor foreign commodities. The reduction of indirect
taxation in the ensuing three years was about £12,000,000.
While thus opening a new and in many ways better prospect to the
country, the Premier still clung to Protectionist measures with regard to
foreign corn. On the 9th of February—a month before the introduction of
the new Tariff—he brought forward his Sliding Scale, by which the duties
on foreign wheat, oats, and barley, rose or fell according to the cheapness or
dearness of what was grown at home. The arrangement gave satisfaction to
no one. Mr. Cobden and his followers would accept nothing but absolute
freedom of trade; the landed proprietors were content with nothing short of
absolute Protection; and between these two extremes were the Whigs, who
preferred—for the present, at least—the low fixed duty which they had
proposed the year before. Nevertheless, Peel carried his Sliding Scale, for
he had a good party vote at his back. The members of the Anti-Corn-Law
League, however, had the greatest cause for rejoicing, for it was evident that
matters were moving in the direction of Free Trade. People began to talk of
the Corn Laws as doomed, and even Sir Robert Peel, in his speech of March
11th, when introducing his Tariff proposals, observed:—“I believe that on
the general principle of Free Trade there is now no great difference of
opinion, and that all agree in the general rule that we should purchase in the
cheapest market, and sell in the dearest.” He still held back from applying
this rule to corn; but no one could doubt how his mind was tending, and
some four years later he began that beneficent course of Free Trade
legislation which Liberal Governments afterwards perfected. The Leaguers

acquired fresh spirit from the prospect of approaching triumph, and
renewed meetings were held, both in London and the provinces.
In the early part of 1843 a very painful incident occurred, which excited
the liveliest sympathy of the Queen and Prince Albert, and which for a time
seemed to place the life of Sir Robert Peel in jeopardy. On the 20th of
January, a man named Daniel McNaughten shot Mr. Edward Drummond,
the private secretary of the Premier, as he was passing along Whitehall
between the Admiralty and the Horse Guards. The unfortunate gentleman
expired on the 25th of the same month, and some were found to maintain
that the fatal issue was due more to the bleeding ordered by his medical
attendants than to the effects of the pistol-shot. However this may have
been, it is certain that the practice of phlebotomy decreased shortly after
this melancholy event, and has never since regained the position it once
held in medical practice. McNaughten, on being seized, and conveyed to
the nearest police-station, declared that the Tories had been persecuting him
for many years, and that that was his justification for committing the act.
From this expression, and some others to which he gave utterance, it was
inferred that his intention was to shoot Sir Robert Peel, and that he mistook
Mr. Drummond for the First Minister, to whom the secretary seems to have
borne some slight resemblance. The public mind was much excited by what
appeared to be a deliberate attempt to make the head of the Government
personally responsible for a supposed, and doubtless an imaginary, wrong.
Taken in conjunction with the recent attacks upon the Queen, the crime was
thought by many to reveal a widespread conspiracy against the deepest
principles of social order, and the alarm in Court circles, and amongst the
members of the Administration, was naturally very great. Of course there
was exaggeration in this feeling; matters were not really so bad as they
appeared. But for some time it was considered necessary that Sir Robert
Peel should be guarded by policemen in plain clothes, and measures were
taken to protect the Court. Alluding to the assassination in a letter to King
Leopold, dated January 31st, the Queen observes:—“Poor Drummond is
universally regretted. Indeed, I seldom remember so strong an interest
(beginning with ourselves) being taken in, and so much feeling so generally
shown towards, a private individual. People can hardly think of anything
else. I trust it will have the beneficial effect of making people feel the
difference between complete madness, which deprives a man of all sense,
and madness which does not prevent a man from knowing right from

wrong.” This distinction does not seem to have been present to the minds of
the jury before whom McNaughten was tried early in March. They returned
a verdict that the prisoner was “Not guilty, on the ground of insanity;” and
he was ordered to be kept in confinement during her Majesty’s pleasure.
The public, however, were greatly

“REBECCA” RIOT IN SOUTH WALES. (See p. 138.)
discontented with this finding; and the general question, as to what was to
be considered the standard of irresponsible mania, was submitted to the
whole of the Judges, who were desired to answer the question, “If a person
under an insane delusion as to existing facts commits an offence in

consequence thereof, is he thereby excused?” The answer was given on the
19th of July, 1843,

LORD ASHLEY (AFTERWARDS EARL OF
SHAFTESBURY).
when an unanimous opinion was pronounced, that he was equally liable
with the person of sane mind.
Lady Peel was made very ill by the terrible event of January; and the
habitual equanimity of Sir Robert himself underwent some disturbance.
This was seen on the 16th of February, during the debate on Lord Howick’s
motion for a Committee of the whole House to consider the reference in the
Queen’s Speech at the opening of Parliament (February 2nd) to the long-
continued depression of manufacturing industry. In the course of the
discussion, Mr. Cobden said that he held Sir Robert Peel personally
responsible for the existing lamentable and dangerous state of affairs. The
words were not well chosen; but the Premier, who was out of health at the
time, and suffering from anxiety and sorrow, passionately leapt to the
conclusion that Mr. Cobden was uttering a thinly-veiled incentive to his
assassination. The distinguished Free Trader denied the imputation,
received a direct contradiction from his adversary, and ultimately explained,
in the midst of great confusion, that what he meant was that the right
honourable Baronet was responsible by virtue of his office. The time was
one of abnormal excitement, and great allowance must be made both for

Peel and Cobden, but especially for the former. Only a few weeks later, Mr.
Goulburn, the Chancellor of the Exchequer, applied at Bow Street Police
Office for a warrant to arrest a retired officer of the navy, who had
threatened to shoot him.
The unsettled condition of the country was shown by some disturbances
which occurred about this time in South Wales. The small farmers in that
portion of the Principality complained much of the heavy road-taxes which
had been recently imposed. The tolls were often so onerous as to absorb the
profit arising from the commodities which these humble people took to
market. A number of gates had been set up, which were generally believed
to be beyond the provisions of the law; and as these were destroyed with
impunity, many people resolved to make a crusade against all toll-gates,
wheresoever they might be found. In a wild and thinly-peopled country like
Wales, authority is necessarily weak; and the conspirators against the gates
were able to carry out their projects with less interference than would have
been encountered in many other parts of the island. But it was considered
advisable that these operations should take place after dark, and the winter
of 1842-3 was rendered memorable by a series of successful attacks upon
the toll-bars, attended by circumstances which were at once picturesque and
alarming. The leader of the movement called himself “Rebecca,” from a
strange misapplication of a passage in Genesis, and dressed himself in
women’s clothes. Several of his followers were similarly disguised, and
those who preserved their proper character as men wore masks over their
faces. In the middle of the night the toll-keepers were aroused by a
disorderly mob, armed with guns, and bearing torches, saws, and hatchets.
Not only were the gates cut down and thrown on the adjacent land, but the
toll-houses also were destroyed, and the occupants obliged to finish their
night’s rest, if they could finish it at all, in the open field, or on the bleak
hill-side. So general was the support given to these rioters that the police
and soldiery were frequently baffled in their endeavours to come up with
them. But at first no personal outrages were committed. Unfortunately,
however, a much worse spirit afterwards set in. Some Chartist emissaries
were sent into South Wales; political ideas, having reference to the abolition
of tithes, of Church rates, and of the existing Poor Law, were mixed up with
the original objects of the association; and in the autumn of 1843
incendiarism and murder marked the progress of this disorderly band. At
the same period, however, the gang were severely handled by the military;

and when some exemplary punishments had been passed upon the principal
rioters, a more lawful state of mind began to set in. The Government, on the
other hand, showed a disposition to leniency, and in the following year an
amended Turnpike Act for South Wales removed the grievances which had
been the original excuse for the outbreak.
The greatest sufferers are usually silent; it is others who discover their
miseries, bring them into the light of day, and procure their amendment.
Such was the case with the workers in mines and collieries, an inquiry into
whose state was conducted by a Commission, whose report was published
in the early part of 1842. It appeared from this report that, in some of the
coal-mines, women and girls were employed as beasts of burden. By means
of a chain passing between the legs, and connected with a belt strapped
round their waists, they were compelled to drag to and fro, on hands and
knees, and often for fourteen or sixteen hours a day, trucks heavily laden
with coal, through passages too low to permit of these persons going
upright. They were nearly naked, their clothing consisting of nothing more
than a pair of trousers made of sacking. Their bodies were encrusted with
the grime of the coal-dust, and many were completely unsexed, and
presented chests that were as flat as those of men. By far the greater part of
their lives was passed underground, in the black and cavernous recesses of
the mine; and the morality of these unhappy creatures was equal to their
physical degradation. Children were also employed, and treated with even
greater brutality. Overworked and beaten by their cruel taskmasters, these
children grew up stunted and diseased, and it was evident that nothing but
widespread ruin, both of body and soul, could result from a system so
monstrously opposed to all the laws of nature. The statesman who procured
the Commission of Inquiry was Lord Ashley, afterwards still more famous
as Earl of Shaftesbury; and it was he who subsequently introduced and
carried the Mines and Collieries Act, by which women and girls were
forbidden to be employed in any form of mining or colliery labour, and the
employment of boys was not to be permitted under the age of ten years.
Moreover, the term of apprenticeship was limited, and the Secretary of State
was empowered to appoint Inspectors of Mines and Collieries, that the
provisions of the Bill should not be evaded by those interested in defeating
them. The Act was passed in 1842, but did not come into operation until
1843. Its effect was unquestionably good; yet it was found difficult to
restrain many women from continuing the work to which they had been

accustomed, and which perhaps they could not readily exchange for
anything better. The Mines and Collieries Act was a measure in which we
may be certain that the Queen, as a woman and a mother, took the deepest
interest, and it is equally beyond question that the benevolent and clear-
seeing mind of Prince Albert was also enlisted on behalf of sufferers of so
peculiar and helpless an order.
It was at this time that great attention began to be paid to social as apart
from political questions. Lord Ashley devoted a good deal of pains to
effecting a limitation of the daily labour of women and young persons in
factories. He ultimately obtained from the Government, in 1844, a Factories
Act which threw some protection around children who had previously been
employed to an extent, and for a number of successive hours, terribly
injurious to their physical and moral health. It was the desire of Sir James
Graham, the Home Secretary, to engraft upon this Bill certain provisions for
the education of young persons engaged in the large manufacturing
establishments of the country; but, owing to the opposition of the
Dissenters, who feared that the influence of the Church would be unduly
extended, it was found necessary to abandon the proposed clauses. Even
with respect to the main objects of the Bill, there was considerable
opposition; for the bigoted adherents of political economy would not
tolerate a measure which interfered with what they regarded as the right of
contract between the employers and the employed. Their principle was
doubtless a good one in the main; but children are so much under the
influence of others that some departure from the rule was necessary in their
case, especially as it was well known that the evil and the suffering were
great. The more bitter opponents of Lord Ashley argued that he ought to
look nearer home; that the peasantry on his father’s estates, to which in due
course he would succeed, were in a worse condition than the female and
juvenile operatives in the factories; that the aristocratic reformer knew
nothing about manufacturing life; and that in truth there was not much to
complain of. But the fact that the agricultural labourers on the lands of Lord
Ashley’s father were poor and miserable, was no reason why Lord Ashley
should not interest himself in another class of sufferers; while, as to the
condition of the children in the seats of manufacturing industry, there could
be no question, to any impartial mind, that it was such as to render the
interposition of the law imperatively necessary. The general principle has
since been extended in many other Acts of Parliament, even to the

protection of women; and the bitter opposition of former times has become
less and less. It is now admitted that special circumstances call for special
legislation; that care for the young has even yet been insufficiently carried
out; and that to sacrifice tender lives to economical theories is little better
than to repeat in another form the Hindoo worship of Juggernaut. Some
slight extension of the time devoted to education was introduced into the
Act of 1844, in place of the more complete provision which it was
originally intended to make; and the effect of this arrangement was found to
be good, though a still further application of the system would
unquestionably have been better.
As the session of 1843 advanced, the Queen and Prince Albert conceived
a yet higher opinion of the great qualities exhibited by Sir Robert Peel. Her
Majesty described him to the King of the Belgians as “a man who thinks
but little of party, and never of himself.” The Prince, with his remarkable
keenness of judgment, anticipated that it would not be long ere Peel would
quit the Conservative party, or the Conservatives, in the main, would desert
him. In a Memorandum of Mr. Anson’s, dated April 30th, 1843, we read:
—“The Prince said yesterday, that Sir Robert Peel was certainly far from
popular with the Conservative party. He, for his part, had the greater
confidence in Sir Robert for the very cause to which he attributed the want
of confidence with which his party regarded him. It was that Sir Robert was
determined to adopt his own line, and not to be turned aside by the fear of
making political enemies, or losing support. He was determined either to
stand or fall by his own opinion; and the Prince felt that in such a man’s
hands the interests of the Crown were most secure.” In little more than three
years it was seen that Peel did in truth “fall” by devotion to what he
considered necessary to the well-being of the

WESTMINSTER HALL.
country. By his conversion to Free Trade he lost the support of the
Conservative party, and was expelled from office by a combination which
placed him at a hopeless disadvantage. That he would once more have risen
to the head of affairs, had not an accident cut short his life, cannot be
doubted; but, with the change of Ministry in 1846, his official existence
came to a close.
The state of her health precluded the Queen from opening Parliament in
person on the 2nd of February, 1843, and for the same reason she was
unable to hold the usual spring levees. These were accordingly held by
Prince Albert, as the representative of her Majesty; but some members of
the Court were so much annoyed at the arrangement, which they regarded
as an unwarrantable assumption of Royal functions by the Prince, that they
absented themselves from these ceremonial gatherings. The speedy
recovery of the sovereign after the birth of the Princess Alice soon enabled
her Majesty to occupy once more her proper position at the head of the
Court, and the general opinion of the public was quite in favour of the step
which had been temporarily adopted. This left Prince Albert free to devote
himself with the greater application to his duties as head of the Royal
Commission on the Fine Arts, which had been appointed with reference to
the decoration of the new Houses of Parliament. In the summer of 1843,
several cartoons, on subjects illustrative of English History and Poetry,
were exhibited in Westminster Hall, and prizes were offered for the best

productions. The collection excited great interest, and large numbers of
persons thronged the magnificent old structure, to scan the designs
submitted by the competitors. Those which were ultimately selected have
been executed in fresco for the two Houses; but, owing either to climate, or
to a bad preparation of the colours, or to both causes combined, these fine
works have greatly decayed during the short period since their execution.
Prince Albert took a keen interest in fresco-painting, and caused a summer-
house in the garden of Buckingham Palace to be decorated in this manner.
The result was a series of eight pictures in illustration of Milton’s “Comus.”
The artists were Sir Edwin Landseer, Maclise, Uwins, Eastlake, Leslie, Sir
William Ross, Dyce, and Stanfield; and the progress of their work was
closely watched by her Majesty and the Prince. Mr. Uwins, in a letter to a
friend, written on the 15th of August, 1843, gives a very interesting account
of the impression produced on his mind by the Queen and her gifted
consort. “The Queen,” he observes, “is full of intelligence, her observations
very acute, and her judgment apparently matured beyond her age. It has
happened to me in life to see something of many Royal personages, and I
must say, with the single exception of the Duke of Kent, I have never met
with any, either in England or on the Continent of Europe, who have
impressed me so favourably as our reigning sovereign and her young and
interesting husband. Coming to us twice a day, unannounced and without
attendants, entirely stripped of all State and ceremony, courting
conversation, and desiring rather reason than obedience, they have gained
our admiration and love.... Our peaceful pursuits are in accordance with the
scene; and the opportunity of watching our proceedings seems to give a zest
to the enjoyment of these moments snatched from State parade and
ceremony. Here, too, the Royal children are brought out by their nurses, and
the whole arrangement seems like real domestic pleasure.”
On the 28th of August—the very day after the prorogation of Parliament
—the Queen and Prince Albert embarked at Southampton, to spend a short
time with the King of the French, who was staying at Château d’Eu, near
Tréport. The voyagers sailed in their new yacht, Victoria and Albert, which
was only just finished, but of which we have heard much in later years. For
a couple of days they cruised about the Isle of Wight, and along the coast of
Devonshire, and then, crossing the Channel, arrived at Tréport on the
evening of September 2nd. Louis Philippe came off in his barge to welcome
the distinguished visitors, and was accompanied by several members of his

family, by M. Guizot, the Minister for Foreign Affairs, by Lord Cowley, the
English Ambassador at Paris, and by several officers and others. The
English party were rowed ashore in the French barge, over which the Royal
Standards of France and England floated in genial companionship. The
reception of the Queen was such as almost to overpower her with emotion,
and the whole visit appears to have yielded her Majesty the deepest
satisfaction. The determination of the Queen and Prince Albert to cross over
to France appears to have been unknown to the English Ministers until
shortly before the time of starting. There were, of course, some rumours of
such an intention; but even in the highest quarters they were disbelieved. In
his “Journal,” published in 1857, Mr. Raikes asserts that the whole affair
“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 of Wellington observed to Mr. Raikes, “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.” In days like our own, when the Government of the country is
substantially conducted by the Queen’s responsible Ministers, a Council of
Regency, if the sovereign is to be absent only a few days, seems entirely
unnecessary. The most questionable part of the visit to France in 1843 was
the secrecy in which it was involved until shortly before the time of
departure.
The Queen’s stay in France, which lasted not more than five days,
terminated on the 7th of September. Although courtly writers give one to
understand that the only object of the Queen and Prince Albert was to make
the personal acquaintance of the French King and his family, with whom

they had long maintained cordial relations through the medium of
correspondence, it is evident that at least one matter of politics was
discussed between the two sovereigns and their Ministers. Louis Philippe
was known to entertain a design to marry one of his sons to the Queen of
Spain, or to a Spanish Princess, in the hope of renewing that connection
between the two countries which has long been an alluring dream of French
diplomacy. The project was regarded in England with

THE QUEEN’S VISIT TO FRANCE. (See p. 143.)
the utmost disfavour, and somewhat strained relations had ensued. On her
visit to France, the Queen was accompanied by her Foreign Minister, the

Earl of Aberdeen, and the matter was talked over by her Majesty, Prince
Albert, and Lord Aberdeen, on the one hand, and the French monarch and
M. Guizot on the other. In a letter to Baron Stockmar, written shortly after
the return to England, Prince Albert states:—“Little passed of a political
nature, except

THE EARL OF ABERDEEN.
the declaration of Louis Philippe to Aberdeen that he would not give his son
to Spain, even if he were asked; and Aberdeen’s answer, that, excepting one
of his sons, any aspirant whom Spain might choose would be acceptable to
England.” We know now that the French King’s promise was shamefully
broken a few years later; but there was no reason at the time to disbelieve
his word. England was not unnaturally disquieted by the prospect of an
alliance between France and Spain; France, with equal reason, objected to
the Queen of Spain marrying a Prince of the House of Coburg, which was
the idea favoured by the English Court. Accordingly, a compromise was
arranged by Lord Aberdeen and M. Guizot, when it was settled that the
French King should renounce all pretensions on the part of any of his sons
to the hand of the Queen of Spain; that the sovereign of that country should
choose her husband from the descendants of Philip V., so as equally to
exclude the Coburgs; and that, as regarded the contemplated marriage of the
Duc de Montpensier, youngest son of Louis Philippe, with the Infanta
Donna Maria Louisa, sister of the Queen of Spain, no such union should

take place till the Queen was married, and had had children; in
consideration of which promise, the Queen of England waived all
objections to the marriage of Montpensier. The whole transaction seems to
have been rather irregular; for negotiations of this nature are generally
conducted between Cabinet and Cabinet, acting, of course, through their
respective Foreign Ministers. In the present instance, however, the Queen’s
visit was kept secret as long as possible, and the negotiation was then
settled by Lord Aberdeen and M. Guizot quietly talking it over in a French
château. The English visitors seem to have been effectually blinded and
lulled to sleep by the wily courtesies of the French monarch; and we have
the authority of Prince Albert that Lord Aberdeen was “thoroughly satisfied
with everything, and made himself much liked.” A few years later, he made
himself “much liked” in Russia, with which country we were about to go to
war on questions of gravity and moment. But for the present no one
perceived how cleverly we had been tricked, and Lord Brougham wrote
effusively to Prince Albert about “the admirable effects produced by the late
excursion to France, and the sure tendency of this wise measure to create
the best feelings between the two nations.” The Prince himself believed that
such would be the case; yet, the very next year, a war between France and
England became imminent.
On returning from France, her Majesty and the Prince made a short stay
at Brighton, and then started for Belgium on a visit to King Leopold.
Leaving Brighton in the Royal yacht on the 12th of September, they arrived
at Ostend on the 13th, and, after a six days’ tour in Belgium, during which
Bruges, Ghent, Brussels, and Antwerp were visited, returned to Windsor
Castle on the 21st of September. “The old cities of Flanders,” writes Prince
Albert to Baron Stockmar, “had put on their fairest array, and were very
tastefully decorated with tapestries, flowers, trees, pictures, &c., which,
combined with the numerous old monuments, churches, and convents, and
the gay crowds of people, produced a most peculiar effect. Victoria was
greatly interested and impressed; and the cordiality and friendliness which
met us everywhere could not fail to attract her towards the Belgian people.”
The travels of the Royal couple were now over for a time, and on the 25th
of October Prince Albert accompanied the Queen to Cambridge, where his
Royal Highness received the degree of Doctor of Civil Law. Both were
greeted with marked cordiality, and the Queen afterwards wrote with much
satisfaction of the enthusiasm shown by all classes at that famous

University, and particularly by the undergraduates. In a letter dated the 4th
of November, Professor Sedgwick gave a lively account of the visit paid by
the Royal party to the Woodwardian Museum. “The Queen,” he said,

PRINCE ALBERT HUNTING NEAR BELVOIR CASTLE.
“seemed happy and well pleased, and was mightily taken with one or
two of my monsters, especially with the Plesiosaurus and gigantic stag. The
subject was new to her; but the Prince evidently had a good general
knowledge of the old world, and not only asked good questions, and
listened with great courtesy to all I had to say, but in one or two instances
helped me on by pointing to the rare things in my collection, especially in
that part of it which contains the German fossils. I thought myself very
fortunate in being able to exhibit the finest collection of German fossils to
be seen in England. They fairly went the round of the Museum; neither of
them seemed in a hurry, and the Queen was quite happy to hear her husband
talk about a novel subject with so much knowledge and spirit. He called her
back once or twice to look at a fine impression of a dragon-fly which I have
in the Solenhofen slate. Having glanced at the long succession of our
fossils, from the youngest to the oldest, the party again moved into the

lecture-room.” The visit to Cambridge lasted only three days, and on the
28th of October the Royal party were back at Windsor.
In the latter days of November, the Queen and Prince Albert visited Sir
Robert Peel at Drayton Manor, the country seat of that statesman. While
staying here, the Prince made a visit to Birmingham on the 20th of the
month. Owing to the turbulent character of that town, where the principles
of Chartism were in the ascendant, and riots had occurred but recently, Sir
James Graham and some members of the Government considered it
imprudent for his Royal Highness to venture into such a vortex of
extravagant opinions. The Prince, however, was not unaware that his
greatest enemies were to be found rather in the upper and official circles
than among the populace; and he therefore did not fear throwing himself
upon the hospitality of the Birmingham people. “The Mayor, who
accompanied the Prince in the carriage,” wrote Mr. Anson on the same day,
“is said to be a Chartist, and to hold extreme views. He said that the visit
had created the greatest enthusiasm;—that it had brought into unison and
harmony opposite political parties, who had shown the deepest hatred
towards each other; and that it had been productive of the happiest results in
Birmingham. He also said he would vouch for the devoted loyalty of the
whole Chartist body. The Queen had not more loyal subjects in her
dominions.” From Drayton Manor, the Royal party proceeded to
Chatsworth, the seat of the Duke of Devonshire, and afterwards to Belvoir
Castle, belonging to the Duke of Rutland. In the Belvoir neighbourhood, the
Prince distinguished himself in the hunting-field, though he had no great
inclination for that kind of sport. It had been thought that his Royal
Highness, as a scholar, and a man much given to retirement, was scarcely
possessed of sufficient spirit to face the perils of the chase. He had therefore
fallen a good deal in the estimation of men who consider that the larger part
of human virtue is comprised in the ability to preserve a good seat on
horseback, and to clear a five-barred gate with complete indifference as to
what may be on the other side. His performances in the vicinity of Belvoir
Castle completely re-established him in the estimation of these persons,
and, as Baron Stockmar afterwards observed, such a reputation was not
without practical value while fox-hunting continued to be an English
national pursuit. The Prince rode boldly and well, and, while some others
were thrown, kept his saddle to the last.

One of the favourite studies of Prince Albert was that of agriculture—a
science which he found in a very backward state in England, and which he
did much to improve. The growing of crops and the rearing of live stock
engaged

CHATSWORTH HOUSE, FROM THE SOUTH-WEST.
much of his attention, and he established a model farm in Windsor Park,
which showed how much may be effected by intelligent supervision, and a
systematic application of those scientific principles which modern times
have placed at the disposal of enterprising men. At the chief agricultural
shows, his name soon became familiar as a constant and often successful
exhibitor, and nothing gave him greater pleasure than any notable
achievement in this field of human industry. Speaking of the model works
in Windsor Park, a contemporary writer observed that “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.” The farm at Windsor was established about the end of
1840, and the Prince always took the greatest interest in the working of his
establishment. On the 30th of October, 1843, he wrote to Baron Stockmar
that the prices of cattle were up again, and that he had netted a very good
return from his auction in the Park. Since the death

LORD GOUGH. (After the Portrait by Sir
Francis Grant, P.R.A.)
of his Royal Highness, the farm has been continued with equal zeal by the
Queen; and the Prince of Wales has also shown an intelligent interest in
pursuits and experiments calculated to raise in no slight degree the
productive powers of our country.
While the Queen was gaining a more extended knowledge of her home
dominions, and Prince Albert was interesting himself in many departments
of science and art, some events were passing in India, to which brief
reference should be made. During the Afghan war of 1838-9, the Anglo-
Indian Government intimated its intention to take temporary possession of
Shikarpoor, in Scinde, an independent State in the north-west of the
Peninsula. The Ameers of Hyderabad and Mizpoor thereupon assented to a
treaty which placed them under the control of Calcutta; but the people
themselves never agreed to this sacrifice, and the British Residency at
Hyderabad was attacked in the early part of 1843. Hereupon, the British
envoy, Sir Charles James Napier, marched a large military force against the
malcontents, routed them at Meeanee on the 17th of February, and, by a

further victory on March 24th, completed the subjugation of Scinde. During
the next two years, the country continued in a state of extreme agitation,
owing to the depredations of certain marauding tribes in the west; but these
brigands were hunted down, and at length entirely extirpated, by the
conqueror of Scinde, whose unresting energy and fiery resolution procured
from him, from his half-admiring adversaries, the title of “the Devil’s
Brother.” The administration of the province has greatly improved since
then; but it may be questioned whether its annexation was not an act of
high-handed power, which the concomitant circumstances were insufficient
to justify.
In the latter part of the same year, another war broke out in Asia. The
State of Gwalior, situated in Central India, had been under our protection
since 1803; but the death of the native sovereign, in 1843, produced a
degree of anarchy which led to the interposition of the British Government.
Lord Ellenborough made a public announcement that he could “neither
permit the existence of an unfriendly Government with the territories of
Scindia” (the reigning family in that part of Hindostan), “nor that those
territories should be without a Government capable of coercing its own
subjects.” This was on the 20th of December; on the 29th, the army of
Gwalior, under the command of Sir Hugh Gough, Commander-in-Chief,
and in presence of the Governor-General, defeated the native forces at
Maharajpoor. On the same day, the left wing of the army, under Major-
General Grey, defeated the enemy at Punniar; and the strong fort of
Gwalior, sometimes called “the Gibraltar of the East,” was taken by our
soldiers. By a treaty concluded in January, 1844, the native dynasty was
permitted to retain 9,000 troops of its own, in addition to a large contingent
under British authority; and Gwalior still preserves a certain amount of
independence, though strictly under the supervision of the Anglo-Indian
Government.

CHAPTER IX.

IRELAND, RUSSIA, AND FRANCE.

O’Connell and the Agitation for Repeal of the Union—Early Life of the Agitator—Character of his
Oratory—Question as to the Purity of his Motives—The “Repeal Year” (1843)—Methods by
which O’Connell worked on Irish Opinion—Open-air Gatherings on the Repeal Question—
Extravagant Speeches of O’Connell—Crowning of the Liberator on the Hill of Tara—
Prohibition of a proposed Meeting at Clontarf—Arrest of the Chief Agitators—Trial,
Condemnation, and Sentences—The Convictions annulled by the House of Lords—Release of
O’Connell, and Final Years of his Life—Effect of the Prosecution on the Government of Sir
Robert Peel—Death of Prince Albert’s Father—Visit of the Prince to Saxe-Coburg-Gotha—His
Presents to the Queen on her Birthday (1844)—Visits of the King of Saxony and the Emperor of
Russia to England—Appearance and Manners of the Emperor—Political Objects of Nicholas in
Visiting London—His Designs on Turkey—Memorandum of Agreement between the Czar and
the English Government—Jealousy on the Part of the French—Ministerial Crisis in the Summer
of 1844—Sir James Graham and the Opening of Letters at the Post Office—Disagreement with
France with Respect to the Island of Tahiti—The Pritchard Affair—Queen Pomare and Queen
Victoria—Anxieties of the English Court as to the Maintenance of Peace—The Ashburton
Treaty with the United States.

Ireland, always more or less disturbed, was excited nearly to the point of
rebellion in 1843, owing to an agitation for the Repeal of the Union which
had been originated by Daniel O’Connell, one of the most remarkable men
of that epoch. O’Connell belonged to a good but impoverished family in
Kerry, and was brought up as a lawyer. But Nature had designed him for
little else than a political agitator, and the demand for Roman Catholic
Emancipation, which began to acquire force in the early part of the present
century, drew him into the whirlpool of public life. Whatever his faults and
errors, he was unquestionably a devoted son of the Church to which he and
his family belonged; and the Romanists of this realm suffered at that time
from many unjust disabilities. In a few years he became the leader of the
movement; and when the Act of 1829 was passed, O’Connell was regarded
by the great mass of the Irish people as a hero who could always lead them
to victory. When a very young man, he was opposed to the union of the
English and Irish Legislatures, and in 1841 he renewed an earlier agitation
in favour of repealing that arrangement. As long as the Whigs were in
power, or nearly so, O’Connell kept the national excitement within
reasonable bounds; for he hoped to extort a good deal from a party which
depended on extraneous support, and he was prepared to take less than his

full demand, in the belief that an instalment in one year would prepare the
way for complete payment in another. But, when it became evident that Sir
Robert Peel would soon be Prime Minister, it was considered that nothing
could be obtained except by means of an agitation carried to the extreme
verge of legality, and apparently, if not really, threatening to pass beyond it.
The aims of O’Connell were far more national than political. He was
studying in France when the great Revolution broke out, and its horrors
made such an impression on his mind that he returned to his own country
“half a Tory at heart.” His views were never what might be called Radical
or democratic—though in many respects liberal; but he was a consummate
demagogue—that is to say, a man gifted with a marvellous capacity of
exciting, swaying, and controlling the mobs which were at once the sources
and the subjects of his power. To these results, his commanding figure,
expressive countenance, and splendid voice, contributed not a little. It may
be doubted if there has ever been so accomplished an agitator in the modern
world: those of the ancient republics spoke to much smaller audiences. One
secret of his success (so far as he can be said to have succeeded) lay in the
complete harmony which existed between himself and the majority of the
Irish people. His face declared him to be an unmixed Celt, of the Hibernian
variety; and not merely his face, but every throb of his nature. Passionate,
impulsive, violent in thought and in expression, boastful, wayward,
pathetic, and humorous, he drew from all these qualities a species of
eloquence peculiarly suited to the audiences he addressed. In the open air,
on a bleak hill-side, he would bring together thousands of half-barbarian
peasantry, and play upon them, as a master plays upon an instrument. He
had the almost unparalleled gift of stimulating his hearers to the very brink
of some mad outbreak, and of restraining them at the last moment. It must
be recorded to the credit of O’Connell that he always repudiated and
condemned the resort to physical force, and that he did actually avoid it. Yet
the turmoil he created was almost as distracting as civil war, and the
gigantic failure of the Repeal movement was written in gloomy characters
all over Ireland.
O’Connell had sat in the Imperial Parliament since 1829; and even in the
House of Commons his fervid and headlong eloquence was often most
impressive. But his greatest triumphs belonged, doubtless, to what may be
called the platform order of oratory. The champion of Repeal had an
unexampled command over the vocabulary of abuse; though it must be

admitted that some of his opponents were not far behind in this effective
accomplishment. Not only was O’Connell in the habit of referring, in
general terms, to “the base, brutal, and bloody Saxon” (by whom, it may be
necessary to explain, he meant the English people), but he attacked
particular individuals with a ferocity of invective which was frequently
more ludicrous than terrible. Unquestionably he had some of the
characteristics of a great orator; yet his style was often tawdry, and his
sentiment overwrought. Partly, perhaps, by virtue of these very
characteristics, he acquired such an influence over the Roman Catholic Irish
that there were but few things they would not have done, or abstained from
doing, at a word from him. How far he was an honest man, is a subject
which has been much disputed. It seems impossible to doubt that he loved
his country, however imprudently; but it is also very difficult not to believe
that he loved himself quite as much. In order to carry on his agitation, he
called for the formation of a fund which came to be termed the Repeal Rent,
and which was derived almost entirely from the weekly contributions of the
poverty-stricken cotters of Ireland. These payments went into the hands of
the Liberator, as O’Connell was fondly called; and it was asserted by many
that the larger part was expended by him on his own gratifications. His
advocates defend him in this respect by saying that he gave up a
magnificent practice at the bar for the sake of conducting the Repeal
movement, and that therefore he had a moral claim to some other source of
income. But this is surely making patriotism easy, and even pleasant, after a
fashion never before dreamt of by patriots of exalted character. It would
appear also that in some instances O’Connell wrung their contributions
from

DANIEL O’CONNELL.
the peasantry by absolute coercion, and that his ordinary dealings with his
own tenants were particularly bad, since he acted as a “Middleman,” who
appropriated three times as much rent as he paid to the head-landlord.[16] It
is no answer to such statements to say that O’Connell died poor, for the
Repeal Rent—long the chief source of his income—had dwindled to
nothing for some few years before his death.
At the beginning of 1843, the Liberator declared that that year was and
should be “the Repeal Year.” He had for several months been endeavouring
to strike a blow at British commerce by directing his followers to refuse all
articles of British manufacture, and by setting an example in the garments
which he himself wore. But this had very little effect; for the poor, who
form the majority in Ireland, could not afford to indulge their national
antipathies at the cost of higher-priced and probably inferior goods. It was
therefore necessary to hold open-air meetings on a gigantic scale and in
quick succession, though in 1843 the arch-agitator was about sixty-eight
years of age. O’Connell not unfrequently touched on the land question
which has given so much trouble in more recent times, and flattered Irish
agriculturists with the hope of obtaining farms at no great sacrifice on their
own parts. But the main object of his life, after the achievement of Roman
Catholic Emancipation, was the passing of a measure for Repeal. The

methods he pursued were sometimes not a little puzzling to English minds.
While using language towards the British Parliament and the British people
which looked like an indirect incentive to rebellion, notwithstanding its
saving clauses, O’Connell would pour out the most flattering homage to the
Queen; even prophesying that the time would come when her Majesty
would gladly fly from her Tory enemies, and seek refuge among her faithful
Irish—with a view, it would seem to have been implied, of ruling England
from Ireland. All this nonsense pleased those who listened to it; but it was
only so much byplay. The real agitation was far more serious; at one time it
looked formidable. From the spring to the autumn of 1843, numerous
meetings (generally on Sunday, that more might attend) were held in
various parts of Ireland, at the bidding of O’Connell, and with the sanction
of the priesthood of all grades. They were attended by enormous numbers,
several of whom had marched, in a semi-military fashion, many miles from
their homes. It is said that at some of these gatherings no fewer than a
quarter of a million persons were present; and it was remarked as singular
that, during the agitation, crime became almost extinct. This was partly due
to the sweet, persuasive exhortations of the Apostle of Temperance, Father
Mathew, who had recently produced a most remarkable effect in checking
drunkenness in Ireland, and causing many thousands to take the pledge of
total abstinence. But it must in some degree be ascribed to the fact that the
minds of the humbler classes were occupied by serious thoughts of a
political character, and influenced by an excitement which left room for no
other. The exultation of passion had for a time superseded the insane fury of
the whisky-bottle.
At the open-air meetings, the speeches of O’Connell were characterised
by his most effective style of popular oratory. The unapproachable
excellence of Ireland, the unexampled baseness and cruelty of England,
were the themes on which he principally dwelt. All the miseries of his
native land would be removed as soon as an Irish Parliament was once more
sitting on College Green. That event would be brought about in not more
than a year; and then the golden age of Ireland would begin. A good many
picturesque but rather theatrical accessories were introduced on these
occasions. Banners, showy decorations, and exciting music, accompanied
the march of the peasantry, and at an unusually large meeting on the hill of
Tara—a spot where the ancient kings of Ireland used to be elected—
O’Connell himself was crowned with a species of semi-regal cap. This was

on the 15th of August: on the 8th of October, an immense meeting was to be
held at Clontarf, three miles from Dublin. But the Government now thought
that matters were proceeding to a dangerous length. They had already
passed an Arms Act for Ireland, by which great restrictions were laid on the
possession of deadly weapons; they had concentrated large bodies of troops
in the disaffected country; and, by a proclamation issued on the 7th of
October, they forbade the contemplated assemblage. It was certainly a wise
resolution. In spite of his repeated declarations that nothing was to be done
of an illegal nature, O’Connell had of late used several expressions well
calculated to stir up an excitable people like the Irish to rebellion and civil
war. There was unquestionably no slight danger of an outbreak, and it was
high time for the “base, brutal, and bloody Saxon” to show that his patience
had a limit.
Had the meeting been held, it is not improbable that a collision would
have taken place between the populace and the soldiery. O’Connell,
however, at once issued a proclamation of his own, declaring that the orders
of the Lord Lieutenant must be obeyed, and that the people must return to
their homes. Why the meeting was not forbidden by the Government until
the very day before it was to be held, is a State secret which has never been
explained. The people were already coming in from all the country round,
and, as a large military force was massed together on the spot, it is
wonderful that a sanguinary combat did not ensue. Some members of the
Repeal Association stationed themselves on the roads approaching Clontarf
to turn back as many as they could; but several arrived on the early morning
of the 8th, and speedily found themselves between close lines of troops. The
mandate of the Liberator, however, was obeyed with marvellous alacrity,
and the meeting (such as it was) dispersed without any untoward event. The
Government had at length done what it ought to have done before; and it
was now resolved to take a further step—namely, to prosecute the chief
agitator and his colleagues. O’Connell, his son, and eight others, were
arrested on charges of conspiracy, sedition, and unlawful assembling.
Nothing could exceed the dismay of the Liberator at the prospect which
now opened before him. He issued addresses to the people, passionately
exhorting them to observe the utmost forbearance and moderation, and
seemed to consider that his pacific words would utterly obliterate the effect
of the inflammatory language he had used only a few weeks before. In point
of fact, they nearly obliterated himself. The Repeal Association broke up

into two camps. One, consisting of the older members, clung to their
accustomed leader; the other, composed of all the youthful and fiery spirits,
formed a new combination, which was afterwards known as that of “Young
Ireland,” and which openly declared its intention to rebel at the very earliest
opportunity.
The proceedings against O’Connell and his associates commenced
formally on the 2nd of November, 1843, in the Dublin Court of Queen’s
Bench; but the actual trial did not begin until the 16th of January, 1844.
Owing, it would seem, to some error, the jury consisted entirely of
Protestants, who, as a rule, were not likely to have much regard for the
author of Roman Catholic Emancipation; but whether this circumstance,
however unfortunate and objectionable, had any real effect upon the verdict,
it would be somewhat dangerous to pronounce. The trial did not terminate
until the 12th of February, nor was

THE FOUR COURTS, DUBLIN.
sentence passed before the 30th of May, 1844. With one exception, all the
prisoners were found guilty, and sentences of varying severity were
pronounced. O’Connell was condemned to one year’s imprisonment, to pay
a fine of £2,000, and to enter into security and recognisances, in the sum of
£5,000, for his good behaviour during a term of seven years. The others
were sentenced to nine months’ imprisonment, together with a fine of £50,
and were ordered to find securities for the same period as their leader, in the
sum of £1,000. They were removed to the Richmond Penitentiary at Dublin.
The Liberator issued a proclamation to the Irish people, commanding them
to keep perfectly quiet; but at the same time he transmitted a writ of error to

London, in order that the legality of the sentence might be reconsidered.
The Lords, to whom the appeal was made, referred the matter to the twelve
Judges; the Judges were not agreed as to the technical points involved; and
the question went back again to the Lords. The decision now rested with
four Law Lords, three of whom—Lords

OLD PARLIAMENT HOUSE, DUBLIN.
Denman, Cottenham, and Campbell—voted that the judgment of the
Irish Court should be reversed. The only dissentient was Lord Brougham;
but his single vote was, of course, inoperative. O’Connell, therefore, had
gained a legal triumph, and he was released from prison in the midst of a
popular ovation. The decision of the Lords was pronounced on the 4th of
September, by which time, O’Connell and his friends had already
undergone a considerable portion of their imprisonment. They had been
treated with great leniency, however, and O’Connell was allowed to see his
admirers in jail to an extent which appears to have positively injured his
health. Certain it is that he was never again the vigorous man he had been;
but this result was probably owing in a much greater degree to

disappointment, and humiliation of spirit. His power had passed away from
him. Younger and more energetic men were taking his place; the English
Government had shown its power to handle the agitator firmly; age was
creeping upon him; and he did little more during the remainder of his days.
In the latter part of 1846, his health and spirits were so completely broke
that he could not endure any allusions to his beloved Ireland and her future.
Early in 1847, he commenced a journey to Rome, where he desired to close
his career in the very bosom of the Church to which he had always been
attached. His mind was tortured by many painful memories, for in his
earlier years his life had been open to reproach in more ways than one. An
overmastering dread of death now came upon him, and one of his last fears
was that he should be buried alive. His earnest desire to reach the Eternal
City was denied him. He could get no farther than Genoa; and there he
expired on the 15th of May, 1847, leaving behind him a great, but on the
whole not a happy, reputation.
It was feared by many persons in England that the trial and conviction of
O’Connell would raise such a tumult amongst the Irish party in the
Legislature, and their Liberal allies, as to endanger the existence of the
Government. This proved not to be the fact; but it was certainly a
reasonable forecast, and it was the view formed by Baron Stockmar, who
from his German home watched with interest the progress of events in
England and Ireland. In a letter to Prince Albert, dated November 27th,
1843, he says:—“It is an old principle with me, to form no judgments at a
distance upon matters which lie far away from my sphere of observation.
Consequently, I can only express mere feelings in so far as personal matters
are concerned. The news of the O’Connell trial took me by surprise, and
threw me into an uneasy state of mind, that set me thinking, not so much
what might ensue from a favourable or unfavourable issue to the
prosecution, as what the Ministry are to do with their victory, supposing
them to get one. To my thinking, victory is likely to prove more dangerous
than failure; and apprehensions seized me, which I still entertain, that this
trial may very possibly lead to a speedy termination of the Peel Ministry.”
Not only was this anticipation falsified, but the Government gained in
strength from its virtual triumph over O’Connell. Measures of a really
beneficial character to Ireland were passed about this period, and for a time
the disaffection of the country underwent considerable abatement.

In the early part of 1844, a great affliction fell upon Prince Albert. His
father died on the 29th of January, and, although such an event had been
anticipated for some time past, the shock was none the less on that account.
The grief of the Queen was almost equal to the Prince’s own, and a deep
gloom settled down upon the Royal circle. On the 4th of February, Prince
Albert wrote to Baron Stockmar:—“God will give us all strength to bear the
blow becomingly. That we were separated gives it a peculiar poignancy.
Not to see him, not to be present to close his eyes, not to help to comfort
those he leaves behind, and to be comforted by them, is very hard. Here we
sit together, poor Mamma, Victorie, and myself, and weep, with a great,
cold public around us, insensible as stone. To have some true, sympathetic
friend at hand would be a great solace. Come to us in this time of trouble, if
come you can.... The world is assuredly not our true happiness; and, alas!
every day’s experience forces me to see how wicked men are. Every
imaginable calumny is heaped upon us, especially upon me; and although a
pure nature, conscious of its own high purposes, is and ought to be lifted
above attacks, still it is painful to be misrepresented by people of whom one
believed better things.” On the 28th of March, the Prince left England for
his father’s small dominions, in order to assist his brother Ernest in
commencing his duties as the reigning Duke. It was the first time that he
and the Queen had ever been parted since their marriage, and both felt the
separation acutely. Two days before the Prince’s departure, the Queen of the
Belgians reached Buckingham Palace, to spend a brief time with the
English sovereign during the period of her solitude; and King Leopold
himself arrived a few days later. On the 11th of April, the Prince was back
again at Windsor. He records in his diary that he arrived at six o’clock in the
evening, in the midst of “great joy.”
The Queen’s birthday was approaching even before the Prince left
England; and the latter had already given orders for the preparation of two
gifts to her Majesty, which he knew would be very acceptable. On the 5th
of March, Prince Albert asked Mr. Eastlake, the painter, if he could execute
by the 24th of May a little picture of angels, such as he had introduced into
his fresco in the pavilion of Buckingham Palace Gardens. He promised to
do the picture by the time mentioned, although he was already at work on
one for her Majesty. The other present was a miniature portrait of the Prince
himself, by Thorburn, taken in armour, in accordance with a wish
frequently expressed by the Queen. The portrait is a full-length, and is said

by her Majesty to give the Prince’s real expression more than anything that
she knew. “During the fatal illness, and on the last morning of his life,” she
writes on the 20th of December, 1873, “he was wonderfully like this
picture.” The lower part of the face was done in half an hour, and the whole
character and aspect are extremely noble. The two pictures were presented
to the Queen on her birthday, at Claremont, where the Royal couple were
staying.
The King of Saxony was at this time expected at Buckingham Palace,
and he arrived there on the 1st of June. Only two days before, her Majesty
and the Prince had been somewhat surprised at hearing that the Emperor of
Russia was on his way to visit the English Court, and that he might be
looked for at almost any moment. He reached London on the night of June
1st, and remained until the following morning at the Russian Embassy. Next
day, he was brought by Prince Albert to Buckingham Palace, where he
became the guest of her Majesty, though he again went to the Embassy at
night, having resolved for the present not to occupy the apartments prepared
for him at the Palace. On the 3rd of June, he was escorted by Prince Albert
from the Slough Station to Windsor Castle, whither the Court had now
removed.
The habits of this Northern potentate were in some respects remarkably
simple and austere. All through his life, he slept on a leathern sack, stuffed
with hay or straw. The sack thus filled was stretched upon a camp-bed, and
the Emperor never intermitted this custom, even when on a visit to foreign
Courts. He produced a very marked impression on the Queen and Prince
Albert, and the former, writing to her uncle, the King of the Belgians, on the
4th of June, observes of the Emperor:—“He is certainly a very striking
man, still very handsome; his profile is beautiful, and his manners most
dignified and graceful; extremely civil, quite alarmingly so, as he is so full
of attention and politesse. But the expression of the eyes is severe, and
unlike anything I ever saw before. He gives Albert and myself the
impression of a man who is not happy, and on whom the burden of his
immense power and position weighs heavily and painfully. He seldom
smiles, and, when he does, the expression is not a happy one. He is very
easy to get on with.” Lady Lyttelton says in one of her letters:—“The only
fault in his face is that he has pale eyelashes, and his enormous and very
brilliant eyes have no shade; besides which, they have the awful look given
by occasional glimpses of white above the eyeball, which comes from his

father Paul, I suppose, and gives a savage wildness, for a moment, pretty
often.”
He and the King of Saxony were delighted with Windsor, and the
Emperor said that the English Court was conducted on the noblest scale of
any Court he had ever seen, everything being done without effort, and as if
it were the ordinary condition of affairs. The Autocrat of the Russias
abounded in gallant speeches to the British sovereign, and pleased her much
by his high praises of Prince Albert. Her Majesty was at first a good deal
opposed to the visit, seeming to entertain some vague feelings of
apprehension on political grounds; but, after a few days, she conceived a
sentiment of friendship for him, and in writing to King Leopold expressed
her conviction that he was truthful and sincere. She did not regard him as
very clever, and she saw that his mind was far from cultivated. The arts,
which were so dear to her own husband, he regarded with entire want of
interest, and confined his attention solely to politics and military affairs. He
showed much alarm about the condition of the East, and professed the
greatest anxiety to be on good terms with this country. Speaking of
sovereign rulers to her Majesty, he made use of an expression which was
very remarkable as coming from him; being to the effect that in modern
times all princes should strive to make themselves worthy of their position,
so as to reconcile people to the fact of their being princes. This does not
seem much in accordance with the ideas or practices of the Czar Nicholas;
but his discernment may have taught him what his position, his passions, or
his habits, did not allow him to carry out.
The Russian Emperor and the King of Saxony attended Ascot Races on
the 4th of June, and witnessed a review in Windsor Park on the 5th. Every
evening, a great dinner was served in the Waterloo Room at Windsor Castle.

THE EMPEROR NICHOLAS.
Visits were likewise paid to the seat of the Duke of Devonshire, at
Chiswick, and to the Opera; and the Emperor seems to have been really
much pleased by his reception. There can be no doubt that he had a political
object in coming to England. Turkey was engaging much of his attention, as
it had done in earlier years, and he was deeply desirous of carrying out the
traditional policy of Russia, as it had been formulated from the days of
Peter the Great. He saw that Turkey was in an impoverished and weakened
state, partly in consequence of his own acts, and those of his predecessors;
and he thought the time had come when some approach should be made
towards an understanding with England as to what should be done with the
Sultan’s inheritance when he could no longer hold it for himself. With this
view, he talked a good deal with Prince Albert, Sir Robert Peel, and Lord
Aberdeen. His desire to propitiate the good opinion of the English
Government and people was most evident; but the events of later years
showed but too plainly with what objects he pursued these conciliatory
efforts. The cordial relations which had long existed between England and
France were viewed by Nicholas with great distrust and jealousy; for he
feared—what, in fact, afterwards occurred—that the two Powers might
combine to restrain his ambition in the East. He wished to break up the
good feeling between England and France, but met with no encouragement
in this respect from Sir Robert Peel. He said that he did not covet an inch of

Turkish soil for himself, but that he would not allow anybody else to have
one. This, of course, was spoken with reference to France, who had
undoubtedly, a few years before, shown a disposition to establish herself in
Syria and Egypt. Sir Robert Peel replied by answering that no Government
should be created in Egypt too powerful to close the passage across that
country to the commerce or the mails of England.
The conversation with the English Premier and Minister for Foreign
Affairs took the ultimate form of a Memorandum drawn up by Count
Nesselrode by order of the Emperor after his return to St. Petersburg. Being
transmitted to England, this document was deposited in the secret archives
of the Foreign Office, but made public some ten years later, at the period of
the Crimean War. “Russia and England,” said the Memorandum, “are
mutually penetrated with the conviction that it is for their common interest
that the Ottoman Porte should maintain itself in the state of independence
and of territorial possession which at present constitutes that Empire, as that
political combination is the one which is most compatible with the general
interest of the maintenance of peace. Being agreed on this principle, Russia
and England have an equal interest in uniting their efforts in order to keep
up the Ottoman Empire, and to avert all the dangers which can place in
jeopardy its safety.” The Memorandum then went on to observe that the
Porte had a constant tendency to extricate itself from engagements imposed
upon it by treaties concluded with other Powers; that it hoped to do so with
impunity, because it reckoned upon the mutual jealousy of the Cabinets;
that, when coming into collision with any one of the Powers on this
account, it relied on the others to espouse its quarrel; that it was essential
not to confirm the Porte in this delusion; and that every time it failed in its
obligations towards one of the Great Powers, it was the interest of all the
rest to bring their influence to bear upon the offender. “The object for which
Russia and England will have to come to an understanding,” the
Memorandum went on to say, “may be expressed in the following manner:
—(1) To seek to maintain the existence of the Ottoman Empire in its
present state, so long as that political combination shall be possible. (2) If
we foresee that it must crumble to pieces, to enter into previous concert as
to everything relating to the establishment of a new order of things,
intended to replace that which now exists, and, in conjunction with each
other, to see that the change which may have occurred in the internal
situation of that Empire shall not injuriously affect either the security of

their own States, and the rights which the treaties assure to them
respectively, or the maintenance of the balance of power in Europe.” The
Emperor declared that Russia and Austria were agreed as to this policy, and
that, if England, as the principal maritime Power, would act in concert with
them, France would in all probability be obliged to follow the same course,
and thus the peace of Europe would be maintained. The fixed intention of
Russia, to take the earliest opportunity of making a combined attack upon
Turkey, is glaringly apparent throughout this document; and it is little to the
credit of Sir Robert Peel and Lord Aberdeen that they should have given
any sanction whatever to such a project. The Memorandum of 1844 enabled
the Russian Emperor, in 1854, to allege a common understanding with
England, in defence of his designs against Turkey. The Earl of Aberdeen
was probably the moving spirit in the matter, so far as Great Britain was
concerned; and it is one of many proofs that that Minister had far too kindly
a regard for the interests of the Northern Power.
Nicholas quitted London on the 9th of June, after producing a very good
impression on the ladies and gentlemen of the Court by his magnificent
presents of jewels to the former, and, as regarded the latter, by the gift of a
very valuable cup, to be annually run for at Ascot, which he had visited
twice during his brief stay. Whether he produced an equally good
impression on the mass of the English people, is a very doubtful matter. It
was said at the time that he was hissed on one occasion, when driving out
with the Queen; and it is probable that such was the fact. He was disliked as
a despot; his conduct towards Poland was viewed with detestation; and that
he had designs on India, was suspected and believed by many. But his
reception at the English Court was sufficiently warm to create a feeling of
irritation on the part of the French, who inferred—not altogether without
reason—that some secret arrangement had been made to the prejudice of
their interests. It was feared for a time that this sentiment would have the
effect of setting aside a visit to England which had been contemplated by
Louis Philippe since the visit of the Queen and Prince Albert to that
monarch in the previous year. Alluding to the fear that this compliment
might not be paid, in consequence of what had happened with the Emperor,
her Majesty, in writing to King Leopold, says:—“I hope that you will
persuade the King (Louis Philippe) to come all the same in September. Our
motives and politics are, not to be exclusive, but to be on good terms with
all—and why should we not? We make no secret of it.” The King of Saxony

left England on the 19th of June, and the Court now returned to its usual
and somewhat quiet routine.
Parliament had been opened by the Queen in person on the 1st of
February, and all had gone on fairly well for some months. The financial
policy of Sir Robert Peel had led to admirable results, and at the close of the
year ending the 5th of April, 1844, the Chancellor of the Exchequer
announced a surplus of £4,165,000, which, after deducting what was
required to pay off the deficiency of the previous year, left a balance of
£1,400,000. It might have been supposed that all political parties would
have been equally pleased with so fortunate a condition; but many amongst
the supporters of Sir Robert Peel himself were dissatisfied with what had
been done, because it was effected in despite of their own Protectionist
views. On the 14th of June, accordingly, they voted in force against the
resolutions proposed by the Government upon the Sugar Duties. An
amendment to those resolutions was brought forward, and, on a division,

CATHEDRAL OF ST. ISAAC, ST. PETERSBURG.
Ministers found themselves in a minority of twenty in a House of 462.
The Premier and his principal colleagues were disposed to resign at once;
but at a large meeting of Conservatives, held on the 17th of June, so much
confidence in the Government was expressed, that Peel hesitated in his
intention, and, on the evening of the same day, a vote in Committee
reversed the decision of the 14th. The Prime Minister had clearly intimated
that, unless such a reversal was obtained, he should resign office; and the

threat had doubtless operated on many who delighted to embarrass the
Ministry, but did not wish to see it upset.
Another disagreeable circumstance occurred at the same time. On the
14th of June, Mr. Thomas Duncombe presented to the House of Commons a
petition from the Italian revolutionist, Signor Mazzini, and three others,
complaining that during the past month a number of their letters, passing
through the General Post Office—letters, they averred, written for no
political purpose, and containing no treasonable or libellous matter—had
been regularly detained and opened. The circumstance led to great
excitement at the time, and many not belonging to the extreme order of
politicians condemned the Home Secretary, Sir James Graham, for the
course he had adopted. Mr. Carlyle wrote to the

JOSEPH MAZZINI.
Times, setting forth that he had known Signor Mazzini for several years,
and that he considered him “a man of genius and virtue, a man of sterling
veracity, humanity, and nobleness of mind;” moreover, that opening a man’s
letters was nearly akin to picking his pockets, and even to still viler forms
of scoundrelism. The writer, however, admitted that letters might be opened
if a Gunpowder Plot were imminent, or some national wreck were not far
off; but he would on no account sanction the practice until those conditions
had been fulfilled. Now, the plain truth of the matter appears to have been
this—that Signor Mazzini had taken advantage of his place of refuge in

England to conspire with divers Republicans in Italy for the destruction of
Austrian and Papal despotism, in that peninsula. The intentions of these
persons may have been admirable, and certainly the annihilation of the
tyrannies against which they conspired was highly desirable, in the interests
both of Italy and the whole world. But it is not proper for any Government
to allow foreigners living under its protection to conspire against other
States with which the protecting country is at peace. Sir James Graham had
reason to believe that Mazzini was occupied in doing this very thing, and he
showed conclusively that the Secretary of State had been invested by
Parliament with the power, in certain cases, of issuing warrants, by virtue of
which letters might be opened. Some former Home Secretaries declared that
they had used this power, and the case began to assume another aspect. A
Secret Committee of the two Houses, however, was appointed to inquire
into the law and practice of opening private letters at the Post Office. The
Report of this Committee showed that the annual average of warrants, at no
time very high, had in recent years decreased rather than augmented, and
that Sir James Graham had been particularly conscientious in the exercise
of his right; and the outcry soon died away.
Difficulties with France occurred during the year 1844, which were
doubtless aggravated by the irritable state of French opinion consequent on
the apprehension that England was intriguing with Russia against the
interests of France in the East. The island of Otaheite, or Tahiti, situated in
the South Pacific Ocean, had for the last two years been a subject of
contention between France and England. The territory was visited by
Commodore Byron in 1765, and two years later by Captain Wallis, who
called it George III. Island. It was explored by Captain Cook in 1768 and
two subsequent years. In 1799 the district of Matavai was ceded to some
English missionaries; so that, as far as European Powers were concerned,
the island seems to have belonged more to England than to any other
country. But, on the 9th of September, 1842, Queen Pomare was compelled
to put herself under the protection of France. She soon afterwards retracted
her enforced consent, and Tahiti, together with the neighbouring islands,
was then seized by Admiral Dupetit Thouars in the name of the French
King. The natives of Tahiti, as of the Society Islands generally, had shown
considerable readiness to adopt the ways of civilisation, and the Protestant
missionaries sent out by England had effected a considerable improvement
in their habits. After a time, certain Roman Catholic missionaries made their

appearance in the island, and endeavoured to interfere with that part of the
population which had already been converted by the Protestants. Quarrels
very naturally ensued, and France interposed on behalf of her fellow-
believers. Such was the origin of the disagreements between France and
England with respect to Tahiti. Public feeling in both countries was greatly
inflamed; but the French Government, in deference to English
remonstrances, represented that they would be satisfied with simply
exercising a Protectorate over the island. The opposition in the French
Chambers characterised this concession as an act of gratuitous humiliation
for their country, and it was feared that war would ensue.
This was rendered all the more probable in the early part of 1844, when,
on the 2nd of March, a French sentinel was disarmed by the natives. The
French Commandant chose to consider the English missionary and Consul,
Mr. Pritchard, the instigator of this act, and he caused him to be at once
arrested, and thrown into prison. “His property,” wrote the Commandant
(D’Aubigny), in an excited proclamation, “shall be answerable for all
damage occasioned to our establishments by the insurgents; and if French
blood is spilt, every drop shall recoil on his head.” Pritchard was afterwards
released from prison, but expelled the island, and, on arriving in England,
created a ferment of public indignation on the subject of his wrongs. The
Government of Sir Robert Peel demanded satisfaction of France for the
gross outrage which had been committed on a British subject; and both the
King and M. Guizot were willing that this should be done. But it is no easy
matter to be simply just on such an occasion. Every Government must take
some account of the sentiment existing amongst its population, and France
just then was in a state of fiery wrath against England. Nevertheless, the
matter was arranged after an interval of some months. On the last day of the
session (September 5th) Sir Robert Peel announced that the French Ministry
had agreed to compensate Pritchard for his sufferings and losses. Queen
Pomare was allowed, as a matter of form, to enjoy the Royal dignity; but
the French were the actual masters of the island. The termination of the
affair was not altogether satisfactory, for Queen Pomare had long been our
faithful ally, and, when coerced by the French, had written a touching letter
to the English Queen, in which she said, “Do not cast me away, my friend. I
run to you for refuge, to be covered under your great shadow; the same that
afforded relief to my fathers by your fathers, who are now dead, and whose
kingdoms have descended to us, the weaker vessels.” To have taken up the

cause of Queen Pomare, however, would in all probability have led to
hostilities between England and France; and Queen Victoria, therefore,
could do nothing for the assistance of this poor barbarian.
Before the settlement of this burning question, her Majesty had, on the
6th of August, given birth to a second son at Windsor Castle. The Royal
child was afterwards christened Alfred, but is better known to the present
generation as the Duke of Edinburgh. Writing to King Leopold shortly after
her confinement, the Queen said:—“The only thing, almost, to mar our
happiness is the heavy and threatening cloud which hangs over our relations
with France, and which, I assure you, distresses and alarms us sadly. The
whole nation here are very angry.... God grant all may come right, and I am
still of good cheer; but the French keep us constantly in hot water.” On the
27th of August her Majesty again wrote to the Belgian sovereign:—“The
impending political cloud, I hope, looks less black and lowering. But I think
it very unwise in Guizot not to have at once discovered D’Aubigny for what
you yourself call an ‘outrage,’ instead of allowing it to drag on for four
weeks, and letting our people get excited.” After the matter had been
settled, the Queen remarked that they must try to prevent such difficulties in
the future;

THE MARBLE HALL, BUCKINGHAM PALACE.

(From a Photograph by H. N. King.)
but this, unfortunately, is impossible while nations are so apt to set up a
false standard of honour in the place of justice.
One of the pacific successes of the Peel Administration was the
conclusion of the Ashburton Treaty with the Government of the United
States. A good deal of mutual irritation had existed for several years, owing
to the absence of a distinct and undisputed boundary between Canada and
the State of Maine. The matter had at one time been referred to the
arbitration of the King of the Netherlands; but neither party would accept
his award. Sir Robert Peel, therefore, sent out a special negotiator in the
person of Lord Ashburton, a member of the great commercial family of the
Barings. The American representative was the Secretary of State, Mr.
Webster—a man of the highest ability, both as an orator and a statesman;
and, after much discussion, a treaty was signed at Washington on the 9th of
August, 1842. The boundary thus established was said to give England a
better military frontier than she had
possessed before, and it
certainly included some
heights commanding the
St. Lawrence which had
not been assigned to us by
the King of the
Netherlands. The
conclusion of this treaty
was announced to
Parliament at the opening
of the session of 1843,
and Sir Robert Peel
claimed credit for having
brought about so
THE QUEEN AND THE REAPERS AT BLAIR CASTLE.
favourable an adjustment.
(See p. 171.) This, however, was not
the view entertained by
the Opposition; and Lord
Palmerston, in calling the attention of the House of Commons to the treaty,
on the 21st of March, 1843, described it as “the Ashburton capitulation.”
Undoubtedly, the larger part of the disputed territory was handed over to the

United States, and it has since been generally considered by Englishmen
that Mr. Webster demanded and obtained more than his country was entitled
to. Some other clauses of the treaty were excellent. Provision was made for
the better suppression of the slave traffic, and it was agreed that each
country should render up to the other certain classes of criminals against
whom a sufficient case should be established by due legal process. Lord
Palmerston could never tolerate the Ashburton Treaty so far as the territorial
rearrangement was concerned. He thought it would be productive of many
evil consequences; but it was high time that a vexatious question, creating a
certain amount of ill-will, should be brought to a final settlement. The
Ashburton Treaty was perhaps the best that could be effected, and
Englishmen have long ceased to consider its details.

CHAPTER X.

DAYS OF PEACEFUL DEVELOPMENT AND PROGRESS.

Visit of the Prince of Prussia to England—Christening of Prince Alfred at Windsor Castle—
Second Visit to the Highlands in the Autumn of 1844—Louis Philippe in England—His
Reception at Windsor—Interchange of Courtesies between English and French Officers—
Opening of the New Royal Exchange by the Queen—Letters of her Majesty and Prince Albert
on the Occasion—Scientific Progress: the Electric Telegraph, Photography, Lord Rosse’s
Telescope, the Thames Tunnel, and Arctic Exploration—Tractarian Difficulties in the Church—
Purchase of Osborne by the Queen—Visits of her Majesty and the Prince to Stowe and
Strathfieldsaye—Opening of Parliament by the Queen (Feb. 4th, 1845)—Financial Statement of
Sir Robert Peel—Reduction and Abolition of Duties—Acrimonious Debates on the Proposed
Queen’s Colleges in Ireland, and the Increase of the Maynooth Grant—Retirement of Mr.
Gladstone from the Ministry—Admission of Jews to Municipal Offices—Results of Sir Robert
Peel’s Financial Policy—Economy in the Royal Household—Project for making Prince Albert
King Consort—The Chief Command of the Army.

While the Queen and Prince Albert were contemplating, in the late summer
of 1844, a second tour in Scotland, they received a visit at Windsor from
one who afterwards became illustrious on the stage of European history, as
the German Emperor. The Prince of Prussia, brother of the reigning King,
arrived at the Castle on the 31st of August, and was described by the Queen
as amiable, sensible, amusing, and frank. Her Majesty thought he would
make a steadier and safer King than his brother, and it cannot be doubted
but that his reign was actually more successful and more distinguished. The
Prince was at that time forty-seven years of age. As a youth, he had taken
part in the campaigns against France in 1813, 1814, and 1815, and was then
holding the post of Governor of Pomerania. He was therefore, even in 1844,
a man of some experience in affairs, and he showed no little penetration in
discriminating between the adaptability of the British Constitution to the
needs of the British people as those needs were then, and its fitness for
Continental nations, where the surroundings are wholly different. His visit
to England was short, but, before he left, he attended, in the Private Chapel
at Windsor Castle, on the 6th of September, the christening of the infant
Prince, to whom were given the names of Alfred Ernest Albert. The
sponsors on this occasion were Prince George of Cambridge, represented by
his father, the Duke of Cambridge; the Prince of Leiningen, represented by
the Duke of Wellington; and H.R.H. the Duchess of Saxe Coburg and

Gotha, represented by H.R.H. the Duchess of Kent. The scene in the chapel
was very solemn, and the Queen records its effect on her in a few heartfelt
words preserved in her Journal.
It had been the intention of her Majesty to visit Ireland in the autumn of
1844; but the excitement in that country, consequent on the Repeal
agitation, the trial of O’Connell, and the subsequent release of the agitator,
made it imprudent for the sovereign and her consort to trust themselves in
the sister island. They accordingly fell back on another Scottish tour, the
remembrance of the earlier one having induced in both a strong desire to
repeat so agreeable an experience. The Royal party started on the 9th of
September, and sailed from Woolwich in the yacht Victoria and Albert. On
the 11th, they entered the Frith of Tay, and landed at Dundee. From this
place they advanced in a north-westerly direction into the Highlands, where
they took up their residence at Blair Castle, Blair Athole, the seat of Lord
Glenlyon (afterwards the Duke of Athole), who placed his house and
grounds at the disposal of her Majesty. The road thither is exceedingly
picturesque, with high hills and deep woods, and part of it led through the
Pass of Killiecrankie, the beauty of which drew forth warm praises from
Prince Albert. All around the scenery is of the most magnificent description,
and the wildness of the prospects, the purity of the air, and the softness of
the sunshine, not only gave the deepest delight to the Royal visitors, but had
a beneficial influence on their health. They got up early in the morning, and
therefore had full enjoyment of the best part of the day. One morning, a
lady, plainly dressed, issued from the gates of Blair Athole, and passed the
Highland guard without being noticed. When it was discovered that this
lady was the Queen, a party of Highlanders turned out as a bodyguard, but
were told that their services were not required. Her Majesty then passed on
to the lodge, where Lord and Lady Glenlyon were dwelling for the time.
She was informed that his Lordship was not yet up, and the servant was
much astonished to hear who the early visitor was. On her return the Queen
lost her way, and was directed by some reapers which path she should take
to reach Blair Castle. In the after-part of the same day her Majesty and the
Prince went on an excursion with Lord Glenlyon. Writing to the Dowager
Duchess of Coburg on the 22nd of September, Prince Albert says:—“We are
all well, and live a somewhat primitive, yet romantic, mountain life, that
acts as a tonic to the nerves, and gladdens the heart of a lover, like myself,
of field-sports and of Nature.” And the Queen says in her Diary that,

“independently of the beautiful scenery, there was a quiet, a retirement, a
wildness, a liberty, and a solitude,” about their surroundings, which
possessed an exquisite charm for both. The Royal party left Blair Castle on
the 1st of October, and were again at Windsor on the 3rd.
Three days later the King of the French landed at Portsmouth. Many of
the French newspapers were strongly opposed to his coming, on account of
the Tahiti affair, in which it was considered by extreme politicians that
France had been injured and outwitted by England. But Louis Philippe and
M. Guizot determined that the visit should take place, as the most likely
way of restoring the good relations of the two countries. At Portsmouth, the
King was received by the naval authorities of the place, and, before landing,
the Mayor and Corporation presented him with an address, in answer to
which he said:—“I have not forgotten the many kindnesses I have received
from your countrymen during my residence among you many years since.
At that period, I was frequently pained at the existence of differences and
feuds between our countries. I assure you, gentlemen, I shall endeavour at
all times to prevent a repetition of those feelings and that conduct,
believing, as I do most sincerely, that the happiness and prosperity of a
nation depend quite as much on the peace of those nations by which it is
surrounded as on quiet within its own dominions.” The Duke of Wellington
went with Prince Albert to receive the King on his arrival, and accompanied
him to Windsor Castle. Louis Philippe was much moved at his reception by
the Queen, and his hand shook somewhat as he alighted from his carriage.
He was the first French sovereign who had ever come on a visit to the
monarch of Great Britain; so that the occasion was a very memorable one.
It must in fairness be acknowledged that the King of the Barricades, as he
used to be called, entertained a friendly feeling towards England, where he
had spent some of his early days of exile, so that he was sincerely desirous
of preserving peace between the two dominions. He delighted to visit all his
old haunts in the neighbourhood of Twickenham and Claremont. His
conversation was very sprightly, and he recalled the old revolutionary days
when, being compelled to seek refuge in the Grisons, under the name of
Chabot, he acted as teacher in a school, where he received twenty pence a
day, and had to brush his own shoes.
Wherever he went, the reception of the French King was much more
hearty than that of the Emperor of Russia a few months before, and he was
enchanted with all he saw and heard. On the 9th of October he was invested

by her Majesty with the Order of the Garter, and on the 12th received the
Corporation of the City of London, who journeyed down to Windsor to pay
their respects. The King left England on the 13th. His original intention was
to return, as he had come, by way of Portsmouth; but, on his arrival at that
harbour on the 12th, accompanied by the Queen and Prince Albert, the
weather proved too rough for so long a passage, and Louis Philippe
therefore travelled up to London, and on the following day crossed from
Dover to Calais. The French Admiral and his officers, who were to have
conveyed the King back to Tréport, were much vexed at being disappointed
of that honour; and, as

RECEPTION OF LOUIS PHILIPPE AT WINDSOR CASTLE. (See
p. 172.)
some kind of compensation, the Queen and Prince Albert breakfasted next
morning on board the frigate which had brought Louis Philippe over. Her
Majesty excited the highest enthusiasm of the French officers by proposing
and drinking the King’s health. There had in fact been much interchange of
courtesies between the French visitors and the English officers stationed at
Portsmouth; but it may be questioned whether these mutual compliments
did not sometimes a little transgress the limits of sincerity. The Earl of
Malmesbury is probably not far wrong when he records in his Memoirs:
—“The officers of the French fleet have met with a most enthusiastic
reception at Portsmouth. The English officers gave them a ball and a dinner;
healths were drunk, and speeches made, and an immense quantity of
humbug exchanged; but the French like that, so I hope it will put them in
good humour.” The worst of these receptions is, that, although they may be
sincere up to a certain point, they have a tendency to run into extravagance,
and may thus provoke a reaction at some future date.
Before the end of the same month the Queen was engaged in a domestic
ceremony of great interest to the citizens of London, and to many others far
beyond the limits of the capital. The old Royal Exchange, the successor to
Sir Thomas Gresham’s original building, destroyed in the Great Fire of
1666, was consumed in a conflagration which broke out on the 10th of
January, 1838. The new building—that which now stands—was erected
from the designs of Mr. William Tite, and opened by her Majesty in person
on the 28th of October, 1844. The procession left Buckingham Palace at
eleven o’clock A.M., and passed through streets gaily decorated for the
occasion. Her Majesty’s carriage was drawn by eight cream-coloured
horses, and the chief occupant wore a tiara of diamonds and a white ermine
mantle. On alighting at the Exchange, the Queen and Prince Albert,
preceded by the Lord Mayor with his Sword of State, went over the
building, and finally entered the Reading Room. Here, seated on a throne,
her Majesty received the address which had been prepared by the City
authorities, and which was read by the Recorder. Allusion was made in it to
the fact that the first building had been opened by Queen Elizabeth, and a
hope was expressed that the new edifice would endure for ages, a memorial
and monument of the commercial grandeur, the prosperity, and the peaceful
triumphs of Victoria’s reign.

After reading her reply, the Queen intimated to the Lord Mayor
(Alderman Magnay) her intention to confer on him the dignity of a baronet.
A sumptuous luncheon was afterwards served in the Underwriters’ Room,
and the proceedings of the day closed by the Queen announcing, after
silence had been enjoined by the heralds, that it was her will and pleasure
that the building should be thenceforth called “The Royal Exchange.” Her
Majesty was greatly pleased by her reception, and wrote next day to King
Leopold:—“Nothing ever went off better, and the procession there, as well
as the proceedings at the Royal Exchange, were splendid and royal in the
extreme. It was a fine and gratifying sight to see the myriads of people
assembled, more than at the Coronation even, and all in such good humour,
and so loyal.” To the same effect wrote Prince Albert to Baron Stockmar.
“Here, after four years,” he observed, “is the recognition of the position we
took up from the first. You always said that if Monarchy was to rise in
popularity, it could only be by the sovereign leading an exemplary life, and
keeping quite aloof from, and above, party. Melbourne called this
‘nonsense.’ Now, Victoria is praised by Lord Spencer, the Liberal, for
giving her Constitutional support to the Tories.” On the 12th of November
the Queen and Prince Albert paid a visit to Lord Exeter, at Burleigh, which
they left on the 15th; and the year closed with an interchange of kindly
feelings between the Prince and Baron Stockmar, whose friendship was
then entering upon its sixth year.
Scientific discovery, or at any rate the practical application of scientific
truths to the ordinary needs of life, had made considerable progress since
the accession of Queen Victoria, and it may be convenient at this stage to
review some of the principal changes thus effected. Electric Telegraph was
probably of more importance than any other. The active powers of the
electric “fluid” had been known for many years, and some of the greatest
inquirers of modern times had anticipated extraordinary results from an
agency so potent, and so various in its operations. The transmission of
electricity by an insulated wire was shown by several experimenters as
early as 1747, and in later years telegraphic arrangements were devised by
scientific explorers, both English and foreign. But no very decided progress
in the transmission of thought by electricity was effected until a short period
before the death of William IV., when somewhat analogous plans were
simultaneously conceived in England and America by Professor Wheatstone
and Professor Morse. It has sometimes been a matter of contention as to

whether the honour of this discovery should belong to the one or the other;
but it may in truth be fairly divided between both. The first telegraphic line
in England was set up by Mr. (afterwards Sir William) Cooke, on the Great
Western Railway, between Paddington and West Drayton, in 1838-9. The
first telegraphic line in America was not constructed until 1844. From those
respective dates, the new means of intercommunication spread rapidly on
both sides of the Atlantic, until, in these days, the whole civilised world is
covered with a mesh of telegraphic lines, almost as wonderful in their
operation as the web of nerves which, in the living animal, carry the
conceptions of the brain through every part of the system, and the
impression of the senses to the seat of reason. One of the earliest practical
applications of the new telegraphic system, in a matter concerning the
general interests of the public, occurred at the commencement of 1845. On
the 1st of January a woman was murdered at Salt Hill, near Slough, and a
certain Quaker with whom she had been intimate was suspected of the
crime. The man made his way to Slough, and proceeded by train to London;
but a telegraphic description of his appearance, and a statement of the
reasons for his detention, had reached Paddington before the time of his
arrival. A policeman was waiting on the platform, and the suspected person
was closely watched and followed until it was considered prudent to arrest
him. He was tried, found guilty, and executed; and Sir Francis Head, the
well-known writer, records that while travelling on the same railway some
time afterwards, he heard a third-class passenger, pointing to the telegraph
lines, remark, “Them’s the cords that hanged John Tawell.”
Another great achievement of this period is the beautiful art of
Photography. Some slight approach towards this mode of producing
pictures was made as long ago as the sixteenth century, when the action of
light on

BURLEIGH HOUSE, STAMFORD.
chloride of silver was discovered. Further results were obtained during the
eighteenth century, particularly by Thomas Wedgwood (son of the
celebrated potter) and Sir Humphry Davy. Wedgwood was the author of a
paper, published in 1802 in the Journal of the Royal Institution, which he
entitled “An Account of a Method of Copying Paintings upon Glass, and of
making Profiles by the Agency of Light upon Nitrate of Silver.” The art,
however, made no great progress until it was taken up in France by M.
Daguerre, who worked in concert with M. Joseph Nicéphore Niepce. The
latter died in 1833, after several years’ association with M. Daguerre; but it
was not until January, 1839, that the production of photographic plates was
publicly announced by his partner. In the same year, Mr. Henry Fox Talbot

published his mode of multiplying photographic impressions by producing
in the first instance a negative photograph, from which any number of
positive copies could be obtained. The earliest photographs were called
Daguerreotypes and Talbotypes, after the French and English inventors; but
in a few years both appellations were superseded by the Greek word
photography—literally, a “light-writing,” though a “light-picture” would be
the more proper description. The uses of photography have been manifold,
and the satisfaction they have given in preserving the very reflex of the
faces of our dead relations and cherished friends is doubtless the greatest
triumph of all. Within a few months of his death, Prince Albert was deeply
moved on receiving from his daughter, the Crown Princess of Prussia, a
daguerreotype of his father. “How precious,” he writes to her on the 3rd of
September, 1861, “is the daguerreotype! After seventeen years which have
glided by since my dear father was taken away, all at once his shade has
come before me—for such, in fact, it is.”[17]
To the early part of Queen Victoria’s reign must be referred some of the
most practical applications of the gigantic telescope erected by the Earl of
Rosse at Parsonstown, in Ireland. This wonderful instrument (which,
however, has been much surpassed by later telescopes) was in active
operation from 1828 to 1845. Its power was such as to exhibit the very
rocks on this side of the moon, and our knowledge of that satellite—a
barren, mournful sphere of extinguished vitality—was greatly increased by
the scientific labours of Lord Rosse and his coadjutors. Returning to
mundane matters, we must refer to the opening of the Thames Tunnel,
which took place on the 25th of March, 1843. The shaft had been
commenced, and the first brick laid, as far back as the 2nd of March, 1825;
but the work was twice delayed by the irruption of water. This subway
between Wapping and Rotherhithe was undoubtedly a splendid triumph of
modern engineering, and reflected the highest credit on Mr. I. K. Brunel,
who proposed and carried out the design. But the tunnel was not long
popular, and, after the dissolution of the Company in 1866, the work was
transferred to the East London Railway, by which it has since been used.
The Queen and Prince Albert were much interested in the tunnel, and, in
July, 1843, honoured it with a visit of inspection.
Arctic discovery made some important strides about this date. Sir John
Franklin, accompanied by Captains Crozier and Fitzjames, sailed in the
Erebus and Terror on his third Arctic Expedition, May 24th, 1845. From

subsequent investigations, it appears that he discovered the North-west
passage, having sailed down Peel and Victoria Straits (now called
Franklin’s Straits) a few months after his arrival in those inhospitable
regions. The Expedition, however, was fatal to the brave explorers. All
England waited with anxiety for tidings of these adventurous men; but, after
a few despatches, an appalling silence and mystery descended on the
enterprise. Months passed away, and nothing more was heard of the Erebus
and Terror. It was as if ships and men had been snatched away from the
world; and the public could comfort itself only with vague hopes that, after
all, the vessels and their crew would reappear at some unexpected corner of
the earth. When the suspense became no longer bearable, expeditions were
sent out in search of the missing voyagers, and coals, provisions, clothing,
and other necessaries, were deposited at various points by the English and
American Governments, by Lady Franklin, and by several private
individuals. Some years later, wild rumours started up that Sir John
Franklin and the gaunt remnant of his crew had been seen at this place and
at that; but these accounts always proved incorrect. It is unnecessary to
recount the numerous expeditions sent out by Lady Franklin, and by the
Governments of Great Britain and the United States. Suffice it to say that,
on the 6th of May, 1859, Lieutenant Hobson found at Point Victory, near
Cape Victoria, a cairn and a tin case, the latter containing a paper, signed on
the 25th of April, 1848, by Captain Fitzjames, which certified that the ships
Erebus and Terror were beset with ice on the 12th of September, 1846; that
Sir John Franklin died on the 11th of the following June; and that the ships
were deserted on the 22nd of April, 1848. Some skeletons and other relics
were afterwards discovered; but the precise nature of the sufferings endured
by these heroic men is swallowed up for ever in the icy silence of the Polar
Seas.
The rapid development of Tractarianism in the Church of England drew
forth from the Archbishop of Canterbury a letter to the clergy of the
Established Church, dated January 11th, 1845. His Grace forbore from
giving any authoritative opinion on the practices recently introduced, but
recommended moderation, forbearance, and mutual concession. Where the
Tractarian innovations had been submitted to quietly, he thought they
should be continued; but where they had been violently opposed, he advised
the clergyman not to insist on their observance. Uniformity in the mode of
conducting public worship he regarded as extremely desirable; but, as the

Rubric was not very consistent with itself, he admitted that its authors might
possibly have contemplated the existence of some diversity, when
sanctioned by convenience. Nothing could be more amiable than the feeling
which prompted this address; but it was clearly unfitted to appease the
feelings of either the Tractarians or the Anti-Tractarians. Both sides were
committed to the most extreme views, which they advocated with mutual
bitterness. Eight days after the publication of the Archbishop’s circular,
there was a disturbance in St. Sidwell’s Church, Exeter, arising out of the
Puseyite practices of the Rev. Francis Courtenay. The matter was referred to
the Bishop of Exeter by the Mayor, and the former wrote to Mr. Courtenay,
recommending him to give way at the request of the civil authorities, and
not to persist in wearing the surplice in the pulpit, unless his conscience
should require him to do so. At the present day it seems a ridiculous
wrangling over trifles to dispute whether a clergyman shall wear a surplice
or a gown; but it should be recollected that these trifles were commonly
held to be the outward manifestations of a fixed determination on the part of
all Puseyite clergymen to assimilate the Church of England to the Church of
Rome. If the opposition to the surplice was trivial, so also was the
determination to wear it: if the wearing of the surplice involved a serious
principle on the one side, the resistance involved an equally serious
principle on the other. Yet the Archbishop of Canterbury thought that a few
kindly words would compose these heart-burnings, which had already
destroyed the peace of the Church, and now threatened its very existence.
From all such vexed questions, and from the inevitable contentions of
party, it was an unspeakable comfort to the Queen and Prince Albert to be
able to retire for a brief season to some quiet country spot, where they could
live in repose and privacy. This immunity from public cares gave their
special charm to the Scottish tours. But the Highlands are remote from
London, and it was very desirable that some place should be found,
sufficiently removed for a leisurely seclusion, and sufficiently near the
metropolis for a quick and easy return. When her Majesty and the Prince
accompanied the King of the French to Portsmouth at the conclusion of his
visit in the autumn of 1844, they saw a charming estate in the Isle of Wight,
which has since become famous as the marine residence of Osborne. It was
Sir Robert Peel who drew their attention to this beautiful retreat, and in the
early part of 1845 it was purchased by her Majesty. “It sounds so pleasant,”
wrote the Queen to King Leopold, “to have a place of one’s own, quiet and

retired, and free from all Woods and Forests, and other charming
departments, which really are the plague of one’s life.” The estate was
afterwards enlarged by further purchases, and the mansion then existing
was almost immediately pulled down, that a larger and more dignified
edifice might occupy its site. The new structure was planned by Prince
Albert, and the building operations were conducted by the late Mr. Thomas
Cubitt. The grounds also were laid out by the Prince, and the ornamental
plantations, which owed their existence to him, are still amongst the
greatest beauties of the Royal domain. Here likewise, as at Windsor, his
Royal Highness had a farm for scientific agriculture, which he managed so
admirably that in a little while he made it pay.
Before the opening of Parliament the Queen and Prince Albert paid two
visits which were productive of general satisfaction. The first, which took
place about the middle of January, was to the seat of the Duke of
Buckingham at Stowe, where the Royal couple were received in a style of
unusual magnificence. The other visit was to the Duke of Wellington at
Strathfieldsaye, where the Royal party arrived on the 20th of January. “The
Duke,” writes Mr. Anson, “takes the Queen in to dinner, and sits by her
Majesty, and after dinner gets up and says, ‘With your Majesty’s
permission, I give the health of her Majesty,’ and then the same for the
Prince. They then adjourn to

OSBORNE, ISLE OF WIGHT.
the library, and the Duke sits on the sofa by the Queen for the rest of the
evening until eleven o’clock, the Prince and the gentlemen being scattered
about in the library, or the billiard-room which opens into it. In a large

conservatory beyond, the band of the Duke’s Grenadier regiment plays
through the evening.” The Queen and Prince Albert returned on the 23rd of
January to Windsor Castle, and the brief amusements of the early year
speedily gave place to those important duties which are necessarily
associated with the government of a great Empire.
Parliament was opened by the Queen in person on the 4th of February.
The Royal Speech referred with satisfaction to the decline of political
agitation in Ireland. It was mentioned that, as a natural result of this change,
private capital had been more freely applied than previously to useful public

THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON AT WINDSOR CASTLE.

enterprises, undertaken through the friendly co-operation of individuals
interested in the welfare of that country. Sir Robert Peel made his annual
financial statement on the 14th of the same month. The Bank Charter Act of
1844, for separating the issue from the banking department of the great
establishment in Threadneedle Street, limiting the issue of notes, and
requiring the whole of the further circulation to be on a basis of bullion, had
already placed the monetary affairs of the country on a better footing. As
regarded the Budget, the Premier calculated the revenue for the ensuing
year at £53,100,000, and the expenditure at £49,000,000. Notwithstanding
this surplus of more than £4,000,000, Sir Robert Peel considered it
advisable to continue the Income Tax for a further period of three years, as
he found it necessary to increase the expenditure on account of the public
service, and desired to apply his surplus to the reduction of the sugar duty,
together with the abolition of the duties on glass, cotton, and wool, and on
the importation of Baltic staves. It was also proposed to abolish the duty on
all those articles which yielded merely nominal amounts—a step which, it
was calculated, would sweep away four hundred and thirty articles from the
tariff. These proposals met with no great opposition, and were rapidly
carried through Parliament by large majorities.
In another portion of his policy Peel encountered much more trouble.
Measures were proposed for the establishment of Queen’s Colleges at
Belfast, Cork, and Galway, which should be open to all, without religious
distinction, and for increasing the annual grant to the College of Maynooth
from £9,000 to £30,000. Both measures, though ultimately successful, were
calculated to exasperate some of the deepest feelings of that time; and Peel
found considerable difficulty in carrying out his designs. The proposed
Colleges for Belfast, Cork, and Galway, were described as the “Godless
Colleges,” and the expression was the common taunt levelled at all who
thought such institutions likely to effect good in the mitigation of religious
animosities. The opposition to the increased Maynooth grant had much
more of reason on its side. The College at Maynooth had been founded by
Parliament in 1795 for the education of students designed for the Roman
Catholic priesthood in Ireland. An Act for its government was passed in
1800; but its existence as a State-supported institution was always
repugnant to the Protestant feeling of England. When, therefore, it was
proposed to add £21,000 to the yearly grant, it was not unnaturally
considered by large numbers of Englishmen that the time had come for

making a decided protest. No doubt a vast amount of the narrowest and
fiercest bigotry was mixed up with this opposition; yet, after sweeping aside
all this froth and venom, the naked fact remains that Protestants were
expected to pay an annual sum towards the education of Roman Catholic
priests, who were not likely to show any affection either for Protestantism
or for England. The whole principle of religious endowments is open to the
gravest question, and, had the opponents of the Maynooth grant taken their
stand on that ground, they would have advanced their cause with all
reasonable men, though probably their numerical following would have
been less. But the enlistment of bigotry on the side of the objectors was not
unnatural from their own point of view, though it drew down on them some
scathing criticisms. Mr. Macaulay, soon afterwards known as the most
brilliant historian of modern times, spoke of “the bray of Exeter Hall,” and
lost his re-election for Edinburgh, two years later, in consequence of that
sarcasm. After all the clamour of adverse opinions, Peel carried the
increased grant; but for many years after, the late Mr. Spooner made an
annual motion against the Maynooth College, and delivered himself of a
rambling speech, to which few listened. Most persons found the subject a
nuisance; and when the Irish Church was disestablished and disendowed in
1869, it was agreed that the annual Parliamentary grant to Maynooth should
cease at the commencement of 1871, though compensation was made, as a
matter of obvious fairness.
The augmentation of the Maynooth grant led to the resignation of Mr.
Gladstone, who occupied the position of President of the Board of Trade in
the Government of Sir Robert Peel. He was not at all opposed to the
measure, which, in fact, he supported as a private member; but he
considered that his book entitled “The State in its Relations with the
Church,” first published in 1838, contained some passages which precluded
him from taking part as a Minister in the proposed measure. In addressing
the House on the 4th of February he observed:—“I have a strong
conviction, speaking under ordinary circumstances and as a general rule,
that those who have borne the most solemn testimony to a particular view
of a great and constitutional question ought not to be parties responsible for
proposals which involve a material departure from it.”
Religious questions were at that time prominently before the public, and
Sir Robert Peel showed an anxiety to remove those restrictions which had
formerly been considered necessary to the safety of the State and Church.

During the session of 1845, a Bill was introduced by the Government for
removing the test by which Jews were excluded from certain municipal
offices. The existing state of the law was ridiculously inconsistent; for,
while a Jew might be the High Sheriff of a county, or Sheriff of London, he
was not allowed to be a Mayor, an Alderman, or a member of the Common
Council. Before occupying any of these offices, he had to swear “on the
true faith of a Christian,” which of course no Jew would do. A measure to
remove the anomaly was introduced into the Upper House by Lord
Lyndhurst, the Lord Chancellor, and, strange to say, it passed through that
Assembly, which had previously resisted all attempts in the same direction.
The Bill underwent no danger in the House of Commons, for the Lower
Chamber had in previous sessions endeavoured to effect the same reform.
Prince Albert was extremely gratified by Sir Robert Peel’s Budget for
1845, which not only, as we have seen, reduced or obliterated a vast number
of vexatious duties, but at the same time placed the finances of the country
on so excellent a footing as to enable the Minister to ask for the Navy and
Ordnance Estimates an increase of a million and a half so as to augment the
power of Great Britain at sea. For the security of our ports, seven sail of the
line were always to be available in the Channel, and three on foreign
stations; and the Prince saw in these arrangements a renewed guarantee for
the peace of Europe. He was also much pleased by an allusion, in the
financial statement of the Prime

MAYNOOTH COLLEGE.
Minister, to the fact that the recent visits of Imperial and Royal
personages had involved no additional expense to the country. The reforms
in the administration of the Royal Household, due to the initiative of Prince
Albert, had effected so great a saving that the Civil List was found quite
adequate to the extra demands upon it. “Those visits,” said Sir Robert Peel,
“of necessity created a considerable increase of expenditure; but, through
that wise system of economy which is the only source of true magnificence,
her Majesty was enabled to meet every charge, and to give a reception to
the sovereigns which struck every one by its magnificence, without adding
one tittle to the burdens of the country. I am not required on the part of her
Majesty to press for the extra expenditure of one single shilling on account
of these unforeseen causes of increased expenditure. I think that to state this
is only due to the personal credit of her Majesty, who insists upon it that
there shall be every magnificence required by her station, but without
incurring a single debt.”
These gratifying statements were transmitted by Prince Albert to Baron
Stockmar, who, it will be recollected, was largely concerned in those
reforms in the Household which had been productive of such admirable
results. In his reply, written on the 28th of February, the Baron alludes to a
speech having

LORD LYNDHURST.
reference to his Royal Highness, and asks, “What can it be which has led to
the reopening of that report?” The report in question was a rumour to the
effect that the title of King Consort was about to be conferred upon the
Prince, by the special desire of her Majesty. For this belief there was some
foundation—not as respected any existing intention, but with reference to a
project which was undoubtedly formed in 1841. In that year it was the
earnest wish of her Majesty that the regal title should be conferred on her
consort. She perceived that his somewhat anomalous position placed him at
a disadvantage with other illustrious personages, and was often inconsistent
with the dignity properly belonging to the Queen’s husband. Her views
were therefore submitted to the judgment of Baron Stockmar, without the
Prince himself knowing anything of the matter. The Baron, with that
practical sense and wisdom which always distinguished him, strongly
opposed the suggestion; and so did Sir Robert Peel and Lord Aberdeen, to
whom, by her Majesty’s wish, Stockmar had referred the question. Both
those Statesmen believed that the proposed change would be attended by
undesirable results, and the project was in consequence abandoned. The
revival of the idea was due in no respect either to her Majesty or to the
Prince; but, in the early part of 1845, the Morning Chronicle announced that
the title of King Consort was about to be created. On the 17th of February
the Premier was questioned in the House of Commons as to whether there

was any truth in this rumour, and Sir Robert Peel stated in reply that the
paragraph was wholly without foundation. The design of making Prince
Albert Commander-in-Chief after the death of the Duke of Wellington
seems to have been really discussed for the second time at this period; but
the duties were too onerous to be undertaken by his Royal Highness, in
addition to the other demands on his attention. The appointment was never
conferred on him, and it would certainly have been an affront to English
feeling had such a post been occupied by a foreigner.

FAVOURITE DOGS. (After Etchings by the Queen.)

CHAPTER XI.

ENGLAND IN 1845.

Borneo and Sir James Brooke—Cession of Labuan to Great Britain—“Constitutionalism” in the
Sandwich Islands—State of the Colonies—Unsuccessful Attack on Madagascar—
Commencement of the Overland Route to India—Decline in the Popularity of Sir Robert Peel—
Rise of Mr. Disraeli and the Young England Party—Generous Support of Peel by the Queen and
Prince Albert—Offer of the Garter to Sir Robert, which he declines—Position of the Premier
towards the Aristocracy—Increasing Weakness of the Government—Dangerous State of Ireland
—Prince Albert on the Political Situation—Visit of the Queen to Belgium and Prussia—
Splendid Reception in the latter Country—Speech of the King of Prussia at Bonn—The
Illuminations at Cologne—Prince Albert and Baron von Humboldt—Reception of the Royal
Visitors in Bavaria, at Coburg, and at Gotha—The Queen at the Native Place of her Husband—
Excursion to the Thuringian Forest—Other Incidents of the German Visit—Second Visit of the
Queen and Prince Albert to Louis Philippe at the Château d’Eu—Duplicity of the King—Return
of the Royal Party to England—Spread of Railway Enterprise in Great Britain—The Railway
Mania and Panic of 1845-6—Increasing Strength of the Free Trade Movement—The Potato
Disease in Ireland—Threatenings of Famine—Sir Robert Peel and Free Trade—Letter of Lord
John Russell to the Electors of the City of London—Ministerial Crisis—Return of Sir Robert
Peel to Power.

A great Empire, so long as the vigour of its people survives, is continually
spreading in new directions—sometimes by indefensible means, at other
times by methods which may be justified in accordance with the ordinary
nature of human affairs. In the early years of Queen Victoria’s reign
considerable activity was shown in the eastern parts of Asia, and some
important additions were made to the British possessions. Borneo—the
largest island in the world, next to Australia—was brought under the notice
of Englishmen, about 1841, by the proceedings of an adventurous explorer.
Until then it had been very little known in Great Britain, although
discovered by the Portuguese as far back as 1518. The Dutch traded there
during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries; but the distant situation of
the island, in the middle of the China Seas, restricted the intercourse of
Europeans with its people. The adjacent waters swarmed with pirates, who
not only robbed, but committed the most extreme atrocities; and the evil
was not firmly taken in hand until a retired Anglo-Indian officer, named
James Brooke, resolved to put down buccaneering in the Eastern
Archipelago. Providing himself with a large yacht (which, being attached to
the Royal Yacht Squadron, possessed in foreign seas the privileges of a ship

of war), he practised his crew for about three years in the Mediterranean
and other European seas, and departed for the East near the end of October,
1838. Arriving at Sarawak, he and his men lent their aid to the Sultan of
Borneo in suppressing an insurrection among the Dyaks, a savage race,
distinct from the ruling tribe, who are Malays. In acknowledgment of his
services Brooke was made Rajah and Governor of Sarawak in September,
1841, and used his power in efforts to improve the laws and civilise the
people. He also obtained the assistance of various British ships of war in the
extirpation of piracy, and many persons were slaughtered on the allegation
that they were freebooters. At a somewhat later date the English Rajah
quarrelled with the Sultan, attacked his capital city, took it by storm, and
put the whole army to flight. The Sultan was afterwards reinstated; but Sir
James Brooke (as he afterwards became) still held his position as Rajah of
Sarawak. The upshot of all these adventures, so far as this period of Queen
Victoria’s reign is concerned, was that, in the course of 1846, a treaty was
concluded with the Sultan, through the instrumentality of Brooke, by which
the island of Labuan, to the north-west of Borneo, was, together with its
dependencies, ceded to the British Empire, as a naval station between India
and China. A money payment was made to the Sultan, and Sir James
Brooke acted for a time as Governor and Commander-in-Chief of Labuan.
His conduct, however, was much impugned in Parliament by Messrs. Hume
and Cobden, who maintained that many innocent persons had been slain,
under pretence of their being pirates, and that the inducement to these acts
was the “head-money” paid by the British Government to the sailors. These
charges, though seemingly not improbable, were never distinctly proved;
but the money payment was wisely abolished.
Travelling still farther from home, we find the Sandwich Islands offered
to Great Britain by their king, Kamehameha III., in 1843. Some British
subjects had claims against this chieftain, which he knew not how else to
meet. The offer was not accepted; but the islands were taken under British
protection, and formed into a kind of semi-independent State, with a
ridiculous travesty of so-called “Constitutional” government. Two Houses
of Parliament were appointed, and met for the first time on the 20th of May,
1845. The dusky-coloured sovereign delivered a speech from the throne,
and told his people that it was their possession of the Word of God which
had introduced them into the family of nations. All these assumptions of
European modes sound extremely ludicrous; yet, since those days, the

Sandwich islanders have got on fairly well, so that Kamehameha was not
altogether without justification in his hopeful anticipations. To the minds of
Queen Victoria and Prince Albert, the enlargement of the area of
civilisation, under the ægis of the British Empire, must have been
profoundly interesting. But there were parts of our actual dominions,
peopled by men of English race, where the right of self-government was not
enjoyed at all. In 1845, we had forty-two colonies, of which only twenty-
five had representative institutions, and those of a very incomplete
character. The consequence was seen in continual complaints of
misgovernment, corruption, and tyranny; and successive Colonial
Secretaries seem to have been equally indifferent to the just demands of
their countrymen beyond the seas.
In May, 1845, a new convention was concluded between England and
France for the better suppression of the slave trade. A little later in the same
year, a French and English squadron made a somewhat futile demonstration
off Madagascar, an island on the south-eastern coast of Africa. Madagascar,

THE OVERLAND ROUTE—SCENE AT BOULAK. (See p. 190.)
like the Sandwich Islands, had been to a great extent Christianised for some
years past; but in 1835 a reactionary policy set in, under the vigorous

incitements of Queen Ranavalona, and the English missionaries were
compelled to leave. Ten years later, the native laws were applied to such
European settlers as had been suffered to remain—an unfortunate result of
the combined French and English attack on the sea-coasts. During these
operations, some forts and part of a town were destroyed; but, on the whole,
the expedition was unsuccessful, and the native Christians suffered from the
exasperation of feeling thus engendered.
Much more satisfactory, as regarded our intercourse with the Oriental
world, was the inauguration of the Overland Route to and from India, due to
the enterprise of Lieutenant Waghorn, who, on the 31st of October, 1845,
arrived in London with the Bombay Mail of the 1st of that month. His
despatches had reached Suez on the 19th, and Alexandria on the 20th of
October; and from the latter of those cities he proceeded by steamboat to
the European continent, when, hurrying post through Austria, Baden,
Bavaria, Prussia, and Belgium, he reached London at half-past four on the
morning of October 31st. The speed of the Overland Route was afterwards
increased; but it had the disadvantage of greater expense. The difference
between the old and the new system consisted in the fact that by the former
it was necessary to pursue the long sea-route by the Cape of Good Hope,
and so round the western coasts of Africa and Europe; whereas, by
Lieutenant Waghorn’s system, the passengers and luggage were carried by
land across the Isthmus of Suez and transferred to another vessel on the
northern shore. Hence the extensive operations of the Peninsular and
Oriental Steam Navigation Company, with which modern visitors to the
East are so well acquainted.
While these important things were being done in distant parts of the
world, the state of political affairs in England was becoming somewhat
complicated. The popularity of Sir Robert Peel had, by 1845, greatly
declined from the mark at which it stood in 1841. Thousands of persons
complained of the Income Tax—of the unfairness of its incidence, the
heaviness of its burden, and the inquisitorial character inseparable from its
operation. The objectors did not sufficiently consider that the imposition of
this tax had enabled the Premier to abolish many millions of duties upon
articles of ordinary consumption. The boon was accepted with silent
gratitude; but the price by which it had been purchased was assailed in
terms of unmeasured vituperation. Such was the view taken by a large
majority of the public, and at the same time Sir Robert Peel had to

encounter the assaults of many prominent members of the party to which he
himself belonged, whose animosity was excited by his manifest leaning
towards a Free Trade policy, and by other tendencies which had far more of
a Liberal than a Conservative character. It was now that Mr. Disraeli began
to acquire that commanding force in Parliament which he never ceased to
exercise until his death in 1881. The days had long gone by when he was
unable to obtain a hearing in the House of Commons; when his voice was
drowned by hoots, and his awkward flights of rhetoric were met with peals
of laughter. He had developed a style of remarkable pungency and vigour;
and perhaps no one in the Lower House, at that time, possessed so
remarkable a power of launching those barbed arrows of sarcasm which
never fail to strike, and which usually leave a scar behind.
In the opinion of Mr. Disraeli and his followers, Sir Robert Peel was a
traitor, who had obtained office on the understanding that he was to support
some form of Protection, and all the other principles of the Conservative
party, but who was now unquestionably moving in the opposite direction.
The truth is that the Tory party was splitting up into two camps, both of
which differed a good deal from the old connection. Peel and his adherents
were becoming to a great extent Liberals in their political ideas, though
with some differences from the Whig party; the rest of the Tories, consisting
of ardent and enthusiastic young men, were endeavouring to form a body
which they called “Young England.” This association of Conservative
Reformers had arisen some few years before; but it was only now beginning
to attract general attention. The leader of this party was Mr. Disraeli, who
expounded its principles in several novels, but particularly in “Coningsby,”
first published in 1844, Other prominent members were Lord John
Manners, Mr. George Smythe (afterwards the seventh Lord Strangford),
Lord George Bentinck, Mr. Henry Hope, son of the author of “Anastasius,”
Mr. Monckton Milnes (better known in later times as Lord Houghton), and
some others less generally recognised. The essential principles of these
gentlemen were Aristocracy and Churchism. Their ideal was found in the
Middle Ages, or at any rate in a period not much later; but, together with
some genuine sympathy with the poor, and some views which may have
been needed as a counteraction to the excessive utilitarianism of the past
forty years, it cannot be denied that a large amount of weak sentimentality
was mixed up with the opinions and methods of the reformers. With all

their earnestness and all their wit, the Young Englanders could not keep
their system going for more than a handful of years.
Under all the difficulties of the time, it was an immense consolation to
Sir Robert Peel to know that he had the hearty support of her Majesty and
Prince Albert. This was the more valuable as the first association of the
Conservative chief with the head of the State had been, as the reader is
aware, of a delicate and unpleasant character. While still under the influence
of Lord Melbourne, it is evident that the Queen had no great liking for Sir
Robert Peel. His opposition to the sovereign in the Bedchamber question
left a feeling of soreness, which lasted some time after the incident had
ceased to agitate the public mind; and the cold manners of Peel might have
proved an obstacle to cordial relations between that politician and his Royal
mistress. But all such difficulties were overcome when a more intimate
acquaintance with the former had shown the latter how sterling and
admirable were his qualities. By 1845 her Majesty had acquired as great a
regard for Sir Robert as she had formerly entertained for Lord Melbourne.
She felt a warm sympathy with her Conservative Minister in the difficulties
he had to encounter from a somewhat factious Opposition, and, acting
under this feeling, she sent to him, in March, 1845, a letter she had received
from King Leopold, speaking very highly of his measures. In replying to
this communication, Peel observed:—“His Majesty has an intimate
knowledge of this country, and is just so far removed from the scene of
political contention here as to be able to take a clear and dispassionate view
of the motives and acts of public men.” The writer added that he looked to
no other reward, apart from her Majesty’s favourable opinion, than that
posterity should confirm the judgment of King Leopold—namely, that Sir
Robert Peel had used the power committed to him for the maintenance of
the honour and just prerogatives of the Crown, and the advancement of the
public welfare. In concluding his reply, the Premier acknowledged the
“generous confidence and support” which he had invariably received from
her Majesty.
The rancour exhibited by a large portion of his own party, in opposing
the increased grant to Maynooth, was so excessive that the Queen felt a
great desire to bestow some special favour on Sir Robert Peel, as a mark of
her confidence and esteem. She wished to confer on him the Order of the
Garter, but, feeling doubtful how far this would meet the wishes of the
Premier himself, requested Lord Aberdeen to sound him on the topic. Peel

questioned, and wisely so, whether this honour would be of any service to
him as a public man. Indeed, he considered that it would probably have the
contrary effect; and he therefore declined the perilous distinction. In
thanking her Majesty for the offer, he observed that he sprang from the
people, was essentially a man of the people, and felt that in his case such an
honour would be misapplied. His heart, he said, was not set upon titles of
honour, or social distinctions; and the only reward he desired on quitting the
service of her Majesty was that she should say to him, “You have been a
faithful servant, and have done your duty to your country and to myself.”
Sir Robert Peel was the son of a Lancashire manufacturer who, being also a
member of the House of Commons, and a politician not wholly
undistinguished in his day, had been created a Baronet in 1800. The mother
of the future Premier was the daughter of another manufacturer; so that the
second Sir Robert Peel had every reason to describe himself as essentially a
plebeian. There would have been no harm in his accepting the Garter, but it
was certainly more in accordance with the simplicity and genuineness of his
nature to decline it. It is not improbable that something of the merely
external coldness of Peel’s nature (for in the recesses of that nature he was
not cold) may have been due to what Dr. Johnson admirably called
“defensive pride.” The slightest compromise of his own dignity might
possibly have drawn down upon him the supercilious taunts of the
aristocratic party which he led.

VIEW IN MALINES.
By dint of his powerful intellect and unresting industry, Sir Robert Peel
managed to keep the Government on its feet during the Session of 1845.
But he knew well that the days of the Cabinet were numbered, and, through
the medium of Lord Aberdeen, he prepared her Majesty and Prince Albert
for the Ministerial crisis which he felt sure would not be long in coming.
The malcontent members of his own party might at any moment coalesce
with the Whigs, and upset the Administration. Moreover, he had taken too
much upon himself, and was beginning to feel the strain. The time had been
when he was of opinion that the Prime Minister of England should always
be in the House of Commons; but he now perceived that his position in that
chamber entailed an amount of work which no human being could long
sustain. Sometimes he thought of trying to effect a combination between the
more liberal Conservatives and the Whigs; but the task would not have been
easy, and would probably have failed in its operation. He went on,
therefore, with heroic resolve, but with an ever-increasing conviction that a
crisis must arrive before many months were over. The efforts to conciliate

the Irish by the increase of the Maynooth grant, the establishment of the
Queen’s Colleges, and other measures, had failed as utterly as all such
efforts invariably do. Ireland was again becoming disaffected, and the
Queen was once more obliged to postpone indefinitely her contemplated
visit to that island. The Corporation of Dublin had in May presented an
address to her Majesty, requesting that she would visit their country, and
promising her a welcome of the utmost warmth and the most perfect
unanimity. But the Queen replied evasively that “whenever she might be
enabled to receive in Ireland the promised welcome, she should rely with
confidence upon the loyalty and affection of her faithful subjects.” No date
was mentioned for the promised visit, and undoubtedly the state of Ireland
was such that it would have been imprudent on the part of the Sovereign to
venture within the range of so many possible dangers. The agitation for
Repeal had again sprung up; agrarian crimes were frequent; and the potato-
disease was beginning to show itself, to an extent which made thoughtful
men apprehensive of the future. The Queen therefore resolved to take her
holiday on the Continent, and proceed up the Rhine to Saxony. She could
not depart, however, until the prorogation of Parliament, and in the
meanwhile there were many causes of anxiety. “In politics,” said Prince
Albert, writing to Baron Stockmar on the 18th of July, 1845, “we are
drawing near the close of one of the most remarkable sittings of Parliament.
Peel has carried through everything with immense majorities; but it is
certain he has no longer any stable Parliamentary support. His party is quite
broken up, and the Opposition has as many different opinions and principles
as heads.” The Session came to an end on the 9th of August, and the same
evening her Majesty and Prince Albert sailed from Woolwich for Antwerp
in the Royal yacht. The fine old city was reached at six o’clock on the
evening of the 10th, amidst a downpour of rain. Nevertheless, the place was
illuminated after the primitive fashion so often seen on the Continent. The
same cheerless weather continued next day, when the Royal party landed.
Proceeding by rail to Malines, the visitors were there met by the King and
Queen of the Belgians, who accompanied them as far as Verviers. Guards of
honour saluted at every station, and the frequent tunnels were illuminated
with lamps and torches.
At length they gained the Prussian frontier, where the train was met by
Lord Westmoreland (the English Ambassador at Berlin), the Chevalier
Bunsen, and certain gentlemen of the Prussian Court who had been

appointed to wait upon the Queen and Prince. At Aix-la-Chapelle they
found the King of Prussia, together with several members of the Royal
Family. “In the room of the station,” writes the Queen, in her Journal, “were
assembled all the authorities, the clergy, Catholic and Lutheran, and a
number of young ladies dressed in white, one of whom, a daughter of the
Burgomaster, recited some complimentary verses.” Her Majesty and the
Prince, together with their party, afterwards visited the Cathedral and other
memorial edifices, and the journey was resumed in the evening. The
reception at Cologne was especially cordial and impressive, and from that
city the Royal party soon reached the station at Brühl. Here the English
visitors went into one of the saloons of the Palace to listen to the splendid
tattoo performed by fire hundred military musicians. The room was
illuminated with torches, and with lamps of coloured glass, and the whole
effect was most splendid. At Bonn they attended the inauguration of the
Beethoven statue, and were serenaded by an enormous orchestra, consisting
of sixty military bands. At four o’clock on the same day, a grand banquet
was given at the Palace, on which occasion the Prussian King made a
speech, in which he said:—“Gentlemen, fill your glasses! There is a word
of inexpressible sweetness to British as well as to German hearts. Thirty
years ago it echoed on the heights of Waterloo from British and German
tongues, after days of hot and desperate fighting, to mark the glorious
triumph of our brotherhood in arms. Now it resounds on the banks of our
fair Rhine, amid the blessings of that peace which was the hallowed fruit of
the great conflict. That word is Victoria!” His Majesty then drank to the
health of the Queen and Prince Albert; and the former, who was much
affected, rose, bent towards the King, and kissed his cheek.
After the banquet, the Royal party returned by rail to Cologne, and there
embarked on a steamer to witness the illuminations from the river. The
spectacle was of the most splendid description, and, as reflected from the
waters of the Rhine, appeared doubly glorious. “As darkness closed in,”
says a writer, who seems to have caught the spirit of the scene, “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
upon the opposite bank. Rockets now shot from all parts of the horizon, As
the Royal party glided down the river, the banks blazed with fireworks and
musketry. The 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.” Some of the houses appeared absolutely red-hot, and
the beauty of the scene was so extraordinary that the spectators forgot the
drizzle of rain which was gradually wetting them through. A day or two

THE QUEEN AND PRINCE ALBERT AT THE CHILDREN’S
FÊTE IN COBURG ON ST. GREGORY’S DAY.
later, the Queen and her companions steamed up the Rhine—an illustrious
party, consisting of three Queens, two Kings, a Prince Consort, an
Archduke, and the Prince and Princess, who, in 1871, became Emperor and
Empress of Germany. Amongst persons distinguished for intellect was the

Baron von Humboldt, for whom Prince Albert entertained a profound
admiration, but who appears not to have reciprocated this feeling. The
Prince was unaware of the fact at that time; but after the death of Humboldt,
in 1859, some letters of that famous man were published in Germany, and
in one of these, written on the 27th of February, 1847, Humboldt says:—“I
am severe only with the great ones, and this man [Prince Albert] made an
uncomfortable impression upon me at Stolzenfels. ‘I know,’ he said to me,
‘that you sympathise greatly with the misfortunes of the Russian Poles.
Unfortunately, the Poles are as little deserving of our sympathy as the
Irish.’ ” The Prince was much annoyed at the publication of remarks which
he had made in private; moreover, he denied that his words had been
correctly reported. It would seem that he had made some observations on
the faults of character common to both races; but it is not likely that he
expressed himself in the sweeping manner described by Humboldt.
In Bavaria, at Coburg and Gotha, and in other parts of Germany, the
reception given to the Queen was equally enthusiastic. Coming near to
Coburg, on the 18th of August, the English Sovereign felt deeply moved
and agitated at approaching the native place of her husband. On their
arrival, the Royal visitors were welcomed by Ernest, Duke of Coburg, who
was dressed in full uniform. “At the entrance to the town,” writes her
Majesty, “we came to a triumphal arch, where Herr Bergner, the
Burgomaster, addressed us, and was quite overcome. On the other side
stood a number of young girls dressed in white, with green wreaths and
scarfs, who presented us with bouquets and verses. I cannot say how much I
felt moved on entering this dear old place, and with difficulty I restrained
my emotion. The beautifully ornamented town, all bright with wreaths and
flowers, the numbers of good, affectionate people, the many recollections
connected with the place—all was so affecting. In the Platz, where the
Rathhaus and Regierungshaus are (which are fine and curious old houses),
the clergy were assembled, and Ober-Superintendent Genzler addressed us
very kindly—a very young-looking man of his age, for he married mamma
to my father, and christened and confirmed Albert and Ernest.” Arriving at
the Palace, they were received by such a crowd of relatives that, as the
Queen records, “the staircase was full of cousins.” The occasion was
interesting and pleasant; but it was overmastered by a feeling of sadness,
consequent on the recent death of Prince Albert’s father, and this mournful
sentiment was intensified when the Royal visitors drove to the Rosenau, the

favourite country seat of the late Duke, where Prince Albert himself had
been born. This residence was now fitted up for the use of the Queen and
her husband during their stay at Coburg; but, “every sound, every view,
every step we take,” writes the former, “makes us think of him [the late
Duke], and feel an indescribable, hopeless longing for him.” The visitors
were shown over the fortress which guards the town of Coburg, and were
much interested in beholding the room once occupied by Luther, in which
his chair and a portion of his bed are still preserved. On the 20th of August
—the festival of St. Gregorius—the Royal party were present at the
children’s fête invariably given in honour of that day. The behaviour of the
little boys and girls appears to have been most exemplary, and the occasion
was a very joyous one.
Many other festivities marked the stay of the Queen and Prince Albert at
the Rosenau. The 26th of August, the anniversary of the Prince’s birth, was
spent in the house where he had first seen the light, and many of the
peasants, in gala dress, came to the house with wreaths, nosegays, and
hearty congratulations. On the following day, the Royal visitors left the
Rosenau with heavy hearts, and proceeded to Reinhardtsbrunn, the scenery
surrounding which gave her Majesty the keenest pleasure. Thence they
went on to Gotha, and on the following day (August 30th) made an
excursion to the Thuringian Forest, the beauties of which are not easily to
be matched. In the heart of the forest, a beautiful pavilion, ornamented with
branches of fir and interwoven wreaths of flowers and laurels, was found
awaiting the distinguished visitors. Here, to the music of a fine band, a great
battue of game took place, with the result that fifty-five animals, of which
thirty-one were stags, were stretched dead or wounded on the turf. It was a
shocking exhibition, and the Queen records in her Journal that none of the
gentlemen liked it. Nevertheless, they took part in it, and opinion in
England was rather strongly expressed against such a method of
emphasising a holiday. The visit to Germany, however, had, on the whole,
been most delightful, and when the time came for departure, the Queen
could hardly bear to think that she must leave. Gotha was quitted on the 3rd
of September, and, on their return journey, the Queen and Prince Albert
halted at Eisenach, where the Grand Duke of Weimar took them to the
historic castle of Wartburg, where Luther spent many months of seclusion at
a period of great danger to himself, and where they were shown, together
with the table at which he wrote, and the wedding-ring which he wore, the

dark mark upon the wall where he threw his inkstand at a visionary devil.
The rest of the journey was rapidly performed; but, before returning to
England, the Queen had to pay a second visit to Louis Philippe at the
Château d’Eu.
At Tréport, which they reached on the morning of September 8th, her
Majesty and the Prince were received by the French Sovereign. On reaching
the Château, they found that one of the rooms had been fitted up, in honour
of her Majesty’s former visit, with pictures illustrating what had then
happened, with others having reference to the King’s own visit to Windsor,
and with portraits by Winterhalter of the Queen and Prince Albert. The
whole company of the Opéra Comique had been brought down from Paris,
and, in a temporary theatre constructed in the grounds, two lively French
operas were performed in the evening. This second visit to Louis Philippe
was extremely short, for, on the evening of the next day (September 9th), it
came to a close. The King rowed in his barge to the Queen’s yacht, and,
while Prince Albert went to show the Prince de Joinville a smaller yacht,
called the Fairy, the French monarch entered into conversation with her
Majesty and Lord Aberdeen on the subject of the Spanish marriages. “The
King,” records Queen Victoria in her Journal, “told Lord Aberdeen, as well
as me, he never would hear of Montpensier’s marriage with the Infanta of
Spain (which they are in a great fright about in England) until it was no
longer a political question, which would be when the Queen is married, and
has children. This is very satisfactory.... When Albert came back with
Joinville, which was about seven o’clock, the King said he must go; and
they all took leave, the King embracing me again and again. We saw and
heard the King land. The sun had set, and in a very short while there was
the most beautiful moonlight, exquisitely reflected on the water. We walked
up and down, and Lord Aberdeen was full of the extreme success of our
whole tour, which had gone off charmingly, including this little visit, which
had been most successful.” Lord Aberdeen was a Minister very easily
satisfied with the promises of foreign Powers; but it must be admitted that,
after so specific a statement as that of Louis Philippe with reference to his
son, the Duc de Montpensier, it was not easy to suppose that in about a year
he would act in direct contradiction of his pledged word. The visit,
however, had been paid; the words had been uttered; and on the 10th of
September the Queen again reached England, reinvigorated by her tour, and

fully satisfied that nothing unpleasant was likely to occur with respect to
Spain and France.
Towards the close of 1845, the whole of England was much disturbed by
an unwholesome extension of railway enterprise, which ended in a panic
and an alarming crash. Only fifteen years had elapsed since the opening of
the Liverpool and Manchester Railway, which, though not absolutely the
first of iron roads, was the earliest to attract general attention. But in that
brief period railways had been pushed forward in many directions, and had
become the most important means of communication in the country. They
appealed to all classes and to all interests, and on Easter Monday, 1844, the
system of cheap excursion trips, with return tickets, was added to the other
attractions of this method of conveyance. The great landowners did not like
the innovation; for in many instances their ancestral parks were cut through
by the relentless engineer, and, although the persons so injured received
money compensation, there are certain troubles which the guinea will not
cure. Those, also, who lived in remote and picturesque districts, disliked to
see their solitudes invaded by a smoky engine, a rattling train of carriages,
and perhaps a somewhat vulgar and tumultuous crowd. The poet
Wordsworth was desperately offended at this desecration of his beloved
Lake district; and doubtless many other persons had the same feeling,
without being able to express it in the form of an eloquent sonnet. A great
deal of allowance must be made for this very natural sentiment; yet the
interests of a whole people could not be set aside for any such
considerations. The work of constructing railways went on, and for a time
the speculations were of a healthy and legitimate character. But in 1844-45
a number of bubble companies arose, which originated in dishonest greed,
and had nothing but a swindler’s success for their object. The country
seemed to go mad about railways. Every newspaper overflowed with
advertisements of new projects;

THE CASTLE OF THE WARTBURG.
every beggar thought he was going to be a millionaire. Parliament had but
recently taken the control of railways under its supervision; defining the
limit of fares, arranging other matters of detail in the interest of the public,
and requiring that, before any company could come into operation, it should
deposit at the Board of Trade a specific account, accompanied by sketches,
plans, and sections of the lines, of the objects which it proposed to effect,
and the means by which those objects were to be carried out. The last day
on which these accounts could be rendered was November 30th, 1845. It
happened to be Sunday—a circumstance overlooked when the arrangement
was made; but all day long the proposed schemes came pouring in, and
when at length the doors were closed at midnight, those who had arrived
too late rang the bell, and, the moment they found an opportunity, flung
their plans into the hall, only to see them thrown out again. The total
number of railway schemes thus lodged at the Board of Trade, before the
end of the closing day, was 788. Many of these were bubble companies,
floated by swindling and often poverty-stricken speculators, who found a
number of persons simple enough to take shares, and pay money for them.
When the crash was imminent, the vagabonds made off with their gains,
and the credulous shareholders had to put up with their loss. One of the
great leaders of railway

GEORGE WILSON, CHAIRMAN OF THE
ANTI-CORN-LAW LEAGUE.
enterprise in those days was Mr. George Hudson, a draper of York, with a
genius for this kind of speculation, in which he made an enormous fortune.
There can be no doubt that the railway enterprise of England was largely
advanced by the labours and abilities of this person, who was the chairman
of numerous companies; but in a subsequent year it was considered that he
had misappropriated a large sum of money, and he was compelled to refund
no less a sum than £190,000.
Since the resumption of office by Sir Robert Peel in 1841, the Free Trade
agitation had made immense advances, and one of the most gifted
champions of the cause, Mr. John Bright, had first appeared in Parliament
during the summer of 1843. It is probable that Mr. Bright understood the
whole case for Free Trade as well as Mr. Cobden himself; and, even if his
powers of exposition were not so irresistibly logical and lucid as those of
his friend, he had a power of passionate, and even poetic, eloquence to
which the other made no pretence, and which was equally effective whether
on a platform or in the House of Commons. We have already seen that Sir
Robert Peel was rapidly abandoning Protection, and the Free Trade party
naturally gained confidence and vigour from so illustrious a convert. Their
ideas had evidently taken hold of the popular mind, excepting, strange to
say, that section of the people which had adopted the views of Chartism.
Money to any amount seemed at the command of the reformers, and in a

commercial country like England the possession of money is one of the best
of arguments. On the 8th of May, 1845, an exhibition of agricultural
products, implements, &c., and also of manufactured articles, was opened
in Covent Garden Theatre, under the title of the Free Trade Bazaar. The
whole of the pit and stage was boarded over; at the close of the vista thus
created was an imitation painted window of the cathedral type; and the
space thus utilised, as distinguished from the public part of the house, was
fitted out as a Gothic Hall. The exhibition was open seventeen days, during
which time about 100,000 people visited the Bazaar, and the monetary
result was that £25,046 were added to the funds of the League. It is thought
that this Bazaar suggested the first idea of the Great Exhibition which
attracted the attention of the whole civilised world six years later. Of course
the Protectionists laughed at the whole thing as theatrical; but it helped to
familiarise Londoners with the idea of Free Trade—an important fact, as
London was at that time behind the towns of the North in devotion to the
new commercial policy. After May, 1845, the cause of Free Trade made
rapid advances in the capital, and it seemed almost like a race between the
two great political parties as to which should take it up.
Another circumstance which worked in favour of the reformers was the
rapid approach of the potato-disease in Ireland, which in the next two years
resulted in one of the most terrible famines known to modern history. The
condition of the potato crops began to attract serious attention in the month
of August, when indications of its existence were visible, not only in
Ireland, but in England. The evil, however, proved far worse in the former
than in the latter country. On the 13th of October, Sir Robert Peel wrote to
Sir James Graham:—“The accounts of the state of the potato crop in Ireland
are becoming very alarming. I foresee the necessity that may be impressed
upon us, at an early period, of considering whether there is not that well-
grounded apprehension of actual scarcity that justifies and compels the
adoption of every means of relief which the exercise of the prerogative or
legislation might afford. I have no confidence in such remedies as the
prohibition of exports, or the stoppage of distilleries. The removal of
impediments to import is the only effectual remedy.” This was a clear
advance towards the adoption of Free Trade in corn, which Sir Robert had
previously resisted, and which he still postponed for several months. On the
31st of October we find a meeting at Dublin representing to the Lord
Lieutenant that it had ascertained beyond a doubt that famine, and

consequent pestilence, were imminent, unless the Government should take
the most prompt measures to provide for the people by the distribution of
food. It was therefore requested that the ports of Ireland should be opened
for the importation of Indian corn, rice, and other articles of consumption.
Sir Robert Peel was already convinced that it was impossible, under
existing circumstances, to maintain restrictions on the free import of grain;
but he still hung back from taking a different course, deterred, probably, by
a doubt as to how far he could obtain a majority in Parliament.
His hesitation in this respect, which was now beginning to be denounced
in Ireland in very emphatic terms, appeared to Lord John Russell to offer a
fitting opportunity for effecting the restoration of the Whigs to office. By
this time, Lord Melbourne had almost retired from public life, and
everybody knew that, if the Liberals again came into power, the
Premiership would fall to the most able, energetic, and resolute of
Melbourne’s lieutenants. Lord John Russell saw a great career before him,
and on the 22nd of November he addressed a letter from Edinburgh to the
electors of the City of London. It will be recollected that the Whig
statesman, shortly before the destruction of the Melbourne Cabinet, had
been in favour of a fixed, though a low, duty on corn, while his great rival,
Sir Robert Peel, had adopted what was known as the Sliding Scale. The
views of both leaders had altered since those days. Each had abandoned his
hobby; but Lord John Russell was the first to proclaim unequivocally that
he was a convert to the views of Mr. Cobden. In his Edinburgh letter, he
wrote:—“It is no longer worth while to contend for a fixed duty. In 1841,
the Free Trade party would have agreed to a duty of 8s. per quarter on
wheat, and after a lapse of years this duty might have been further reduced,
and ultimately abolished. But the imposition of any duty at present, without
a provision for its extinction within a short period, would but prolong a
contest already sufficiently fruitful of animosity and discontent. Let us,
then, unite to put an end to a system which has been proved to be the blight
of commerce, the bane of agriculture, the source of bitter division amongst
classes, the cause of penury, fever, mortality, and crime among the people.”
The hesitation of Sir Robert Peel, though unfortunate both for himself
and the country, was scarcely avoidable under the circumstances. He would
have thrown open the ports at once by an Order in Council; but several of
his colleagues in the Government were opposed to such a proceeding, and
even to the adoption of any Free Trade policy whatever. The publication of

Lord John Russell’s letter, however, brought matters to a crisis. It is true
that by this time most of the objecting members of the Administration had
come round to the Premier’s view; but Peel felt that he could not place
himself in the position of adopting a policy which his rival had so openly
espoused. Convinced of his inability, at that time, to carry out the Free
Trade ideas which he nevertheless saw to be inevitable. Sir Robert went to
Osborne on the 5th of December, 1845, and placed his resignation in the
hands of her Majesty. “I trust,” says the Conservative Minister in his
Memoirs, “that I satisfied the Queen that I was influenced by considerations
of the public interest, and not by fear of responsibility or of reproach, in
humbly tendering my resignation of office. Her Majesty was pleased to
accept it, with marks of confidence and approbation which, however
gratifying, made it a very painful act to replace in her Majesty’s hands the
trust she had confided in me.” The Queen then requested Lord John Russell
to form a Government; but, being still in Edinburgh, it was the 11th of
December before that statesman could reach the south. He at once
undertook the task assigned to him; but, as some of his political friends
were disinclined to support the general lines of policy on which he desired
to enter, or were unable to agree among themselves, the attempt ended in
failure. Another difficulty resulted from the refusal of Sir Robert Peel to
give an unconditional promise that he would support a measure for the total
and immediate abolition of the Corn Laws, though he was willing to assure
Lord John that he and his friends would abstain from any factious
opposition.
On the 20th of December, Lord John Russell announced to her Majesty
that he was unable to form an Administration, and Sir Robert Peel was
immediately recalled to the Royal presence at Windsor Castle. On entering
the room, the Queen said to him very graciously, “So far from taking leave
of you, Sir Robert, I must require you to withdraw your resignation.” She
added that her late Minister might naturally require time for reflection, and
for communication with his colleagues, before he gave a decisive answer. “I
humbly advised her Majesty,” writes Sir Robert Peel, “to permit me to
decide at once upon the resumption of office, and to enable me to announce
to my late colleagues, on my return to London, that I had not hesitated to
reaccept the appointment of First Minister.” He goes on to state that the
Queen was pleased cordially to approve of this suggestion, and he reached

London on the evening of the 20th, once more invested with the functions
of Prime Minister.

THE HOUSES OF PARLIAMENT.

CHAPTER XII.

THE MINISTRY OF RENUNCIATION.

The Times Reveals a Secret of State—Mr. Sidney Herbert and Mrs. Norton and the Times—A
Court Scandal—Peel’s Resignation—Lord John Russell’s Failure to Form a Ministry—Peel
Resumes Office—The Ministry and the Queen—The Duke of Wellington and Peel—
Disintegration of the Tory Party—Croker’s Correspondence with Wellington—Peel’s
Instructions to the Quarterly Review—A. Betrayed Editor—Peel and the Princess Lieven—
Guizot’s Defence of Peel—The Queen’s Conduct in the Great Crisis—How she Strengthened
the Position of the Crown—Her Popular Sympathies—Why Peel Changed his Policy—The
Potato Rot—Impending Famine—Distress in England—The Campaign of the Free Traders—
Scenes at their Meetings—The Protectionist Agitation and the Agricultural Labourers—
Sufferings of the Poor—The Duke of Norfolk’s Curry Powder—Meeting at Wootton Bassett—
The Queen and the Sufferers.

It was on the 4th of December, 1845, that the Times startled the world by its
celebrated leading article, beginning “The doom of the Corn Laws is
sealed.” This was the very earliest disclosure of that great act of political
renunciation which impending famine in Ireland had forced on Sir Robert
Peel. How the Times came to discover, on the 4th of December, that the
Cabinet had broken up on the previous day, through the obstinacy of Lord
Stanley and the Duke of Buccleuch, was for a long time a political mystery.
It inspired what Lord Beaconsfield once called “the babble of the
boudoirs,” and the tittle-tattle of many clubs. It was whispered that one very
near the Royal person had divulged this profound secret of State, a
knowledge of which would have been worth a king’s ransom on the Corn
Exchange. Such surmises were entirely wrong. So far as the Court knew, or
guessed at the secret, it was kept inviolate. It was understood that Mr.
Sidney Herbert, the youngest of Sir Robert Peel’s colleagues, on the
evening of the 3rd of December conveyed to Mrs. Norton (afterwards Lady
Stirling Maxwell, of Keir) an idea of what had happened in the Cabinet, and
that she, in turn, carried her gleanings from Mr. Herbert’s conversation to
Mr. Delane, the editor of the Times. The affair, it may be said in passing, has
furnished Mr. George Meredith with a striking incident in his story, “Diana
of the Crossways,” for the heroine of that romance has much in common
with the gifted intrigante, “whose bridal wreath was twined with weeds of
strife.” A more prosaic explanation, however, is supplied by Mr. Greville.

He asserts that Lord Aberdeen gave Mr. Delane a hint that the Corn Law
was doomed, his object being to conciliate America (which was deeply
interested in the export of corn) in view of the Oregon dispute, which he
was anxious to settle. It is hard to believe that a man of Lord Aberdeen’s
high sense of honour would, from such an inadequate motive, violate his
Ministerial oath, and betray the secrets of his chief.
Lord John Russell had failed, as has been said, to form his
Administration when the Cabinet of his rival broke up. Here it may now be
convenient to explain the reason of that failure, which he laid before his
disappointed Sovereign. On the morning of the 20th of December, when Sir
Robert Peel waited on the Queen at Windsor, and was asked to withdraw his
resignation, her Majesty had been disturbed by a letter from Lord John
Russell, stating that he must abandon all hopes of forming a Ministry,
because he had been unable “in one instance” to secure indispensable
support from his more prominent followers. Who were the “prominent
followers”? and who, “in one instance,” thwarted the Leader of the
Opposition in his effort to extricate the Queen, from the difficulty in which
she was entangled? The pragmatic “instance” was Lord Grey, and his
refusal to serve the country in the hour of need was a matter not of principle
but of personal feeling. Writing to Mr. J. F. Macfarlan, Chairman of the
Edinburgh Chamber of Commerce, on the 22nd of December, 1845, Mr.
(afterwards Lord) Macaulay told the whole story. “You will have heard,” he
says, “of the termination of our attempt to form a Ministry. All our plans
were frustrated by Lord Grey.... On my own share in these transactions I
reflect with unmixed satisfaction. From the first I told Lord John that I
stipulated for one thing only, total and immediate Repeal. I would be as to
all other matters absolutely in his hands; that I would take any office, or no
office, just as it suited him best; and that he should never be disturbed by
any personal pretensions or jealousies on my part. If everybody else had
acted thus there would now have been a Liberal Ministry.” We now know
that Macaulay was mistaken. It was perfectly well known, not only to the
Queen, but to the chiefs of the great parties, that Lord John Russell could
never have carried Repeal, for two reasons. He was distrusted by Free
Traders like Cobden. It was impossible to expect that the House of Lords,
who threatened to revolt against Wellington, would accept Free Trade from
the Whigs, many of whom were eager to maintain a small fixed duty on
corn. All this was quite well understood at Court, and it partially accounts

for the unconcealed delight with which the Queen asked Sir Robert Peel to
withdraw his resignation. It was, moreover, suspected at the time that the
Court—always distrustful of Lord Palmerston—privily sympathised with
the feelings of Lord Grey, who thought that the only office which Lord
Palmerston was willing to accept, was precisely the one in which he would
do irretrievable mischief. He had been Secretary of State for Foreign
Affairs, and naturally he could not, with self-respect, serve another Whig
Government in an inferior capacity. But Lord Grey, though quite ready to
serve with Palmerston if he took some other Department, held that, if he
went to the Foreign Office, his pugnacity, combined with the hostile animus
which he had inspired in France, must, sooner or later, lead to a disturbance
of the peace of Europe. Lord Palmerston was, in truth, the Mordecai sitting
at the gate of the Whig Oligarchy, and then, as ever, Lord Grey could only
co-operate comfortably with a Ministry of Greys.
It was on the 20th December that Sir Robert Peel summoned his late
colleagues in Downing Street, to inform them that he had resumed office,
and to invite their assistance in abolishing the duties on foreign corn. The
conclave was depressed and downcast, for the situation was unique and
embarrassing. Lord Stanley, true to his imperious impulses, persisted in
resigning. He refused to believe that the destitution in Ireland was so bad as
it was painted by Peel, and it is but just to say that his main reason for
deserting his leader had no direct connection with the effect of the Corn
Laws on the price of food. The real interest of the country, Lord Stanley
contended, was to have a flourishing rural population. That could only exist
under the shadow of a territorial aristocracy, maintained by a Corn Law
which kept up rents, because it kept up prices. No conscious self-interest
seems to have tainted Lord Stanley’s motives, and the same may be said of
Cobden and the Free Traders, who, on the other hand, believed that the
world would gain by the substitution of a commercial for a territorial
aristocracy. The aim of the Free Traders, in fact, was to rule the English
people by an oligarchy of rich manufacturers, thus “thrusting aside the
nobles,” and creating “a new policy specially adapted to the life of a great
trading community.”[18] Lord Stanley’s idea, however, was that the landed
interest had made England; that it gave her social stability and military
power; that it had won her battles by sea and land, and built up her mighty
fabric of empire. The Corn Laws he believed, quite honestly, to be the

THE IRISH FAMINE: STARVING PEASANTS AT A WORKHOUSE GATE.
outworks of a great system of landlordism which gave the State a solid
basis. His firm conviction was that Mr. Cobden and the Leaguers were
eager to capture the outworks, that they might the more easily storm the
citadel. And this idea, too, was common to the Whigs, who were advocates
of a duty on corn, which, though small, was to be fixed. Through Lord
Melbourne they had taught the country and the Queen that a man must

LORD GEORGE BENTINCK.
be mad who would dream of abolishing the Corn Laws—and they showed
no sign, as a Party, of wavering in that conviction till the 22nd of
November, 1845, when Lord John Russell sent the famous “Edinburgh
Letter” to his constituents in the City of London, abandoning Protection
once and for ever. It is but fair to remind a later generation of the relation in
which the two great Parties stood to the Corn Law, because partisan writers
often present an inadequate conception of the arduous task which Peel set
himself, when he undertook to abolish the Corn Duties, in defiance of
beliefs long rooted in the minds not only of the people, but of the governing
classes of England.
There is no denying the fact that the admirable behaviour of the Queen
throughout the epoch-marking Ministerial crisis of 1845-46 did a great deal
to restore the influence of the Crown as an operative factor in English
politics. Since the death of George IV. that influence had been waning.
Under William IV. it had been exercised, but without subtlety of tact or
breadth of sympathy; and therefore, when exercised, it was somewhat
rudely “abated” by the popular Party. Nothing was further from Lord
Melbourne’s heart than to turn the Queen into a Whig, for it is on record
that it was he who urged her to conciliate the Tories, and put confidence in
Peel, against whom she bore a grudge for opposing the Parliamentary grant

to the Prince Consort. Yet, in the early days of the Queen’s reign, the
influence of the Crown was not a popular influence, because it was
supposed that Melbourne had become a sort of Mayor of the Palace, and
had made the Sovereign the tool of Party. In the beginning of 1846,
however, we notice a remarkable change in public feeling on this subject.
There was then a growing belief, even among the Tories, that their
suspicions of Melbourne had been unwarrantable, and the people ceased to
fear that the Queen intended to base her Government on a system of
favouritism. It is of the utmost importance, says Edmund Burke, “that the
discretionary powers which are necessarily vested in the monarch, whether
for the execution of the laws or for the nomination to magistracy or office,
or for the conducting of the affairs of peace and war, or for ordering the
revenue, should all be exercised upon public principles and national
grounds, and not on the likings or prejudices, the intrigues or fooleries, of a
Court.”[19] This was really the sound teaching which Melbourne had
impressed on the Queen, and her bearing in the crisis, which ended in Sir
Robert Peel’s reassumption of office, showed that she had been an apt pupil.
The Prince Consort was quick to notice the effect which her Majesty’s
unswerving fidelity to public interests at this time had produced on the
country. It was therefore with pardonable pride that he wrote to Baron
Stockmar[20] a curious letter, shrewdly pointing out that the crisis now past
had been of signal advantage to the Crown. The Queen had been seen to
remain calm and unmoved in the fierce and strident strife of factions—the
one stable element in the Constitution at a moment when no other rallying
point was visible to the nation. Albany Fonblanque, the wittiest of the
Radical journalists of that day, ridiculed, to the top of his bent, the chiefs of
the two great parties, whose petty rivalries and personal jealousies had
thrown public affairs into sad confusion. They were, it must be confessed,
rather like Rabelais’ giant, who, though he habitually fed on windmills,
choked on a pat of butter swallowed the wrong way. But on behalf of the
Radicals, Fonblanque, it is interesting to notice now, had nothing but praise
to bestow on the Queen’s behaviour in the midst of the tragi-comedy of
politics, which was being enacted before the eyes of a famished people. “In
all the pranks and bunglings of the last three weeks,” he wrote, “there is one
part which, according to all report, has been played most faultlessly—that
of a Constitutional Sovereign. In the pages of history the directness, the
sincerity, the scrupulous observance of Constitutional rule, which have

marked her Majesty’s conduct in circumstances the most trying, will have
their place of honour. However unused as we are to deal in homage to
Royalty, we must add that never, we believe, was the heart of a monarch so
warmly devoted to the interests of a people, and with so enlightened a sense
of their interests.”[21] The Continental tour of the Queen in 1845 had
suggested to the people that the personal influence of the Sovereign might,
if adroitly used, be of great service to the State in conciliating foreign
nations, whose goodwill it would be advantageous to secure. Her conduct in
the Ministerial crisis of 1845-46, however, convinced them that, if
intelligently directed, the personal influence of the Queen, in domestic
politics, might also be rendered not less beneficial to her subjects and her
empire.
But at the meeting in Downing Street which terminated this momentous
crisis, Lord Stanley, whose place was on his resignation promptly filled by
Mr. Gladstone, was the only ex-Minister who had the courage of his
opinions. The Duke of Buccleuch ceased to resist the logic of facts. The
Duke of Wellington, who had wavered very much, finally cast in his lot
with Peel—to the amazement of all his old friends, especially of Mr. John
Wilson Croker. Mr. Croker had been induced by Sir Robert Peel, whilst on a
visit to Drayton Manor in September, 1845, to attack the Anti-Corn-Law
League in the Quarterly Review, and, angry at what he deemed his betrayal,
he somewhat peremptorily demanded explanations from the Duke. His
Grace simply wrote to him saying that he felt it his duty to stand by the
Queen. This, in his view, implied that he must support the Minister who
alone seemed able to carry on her Majesty’s Government, which he
(Wellington), as “a retained servant of the Crown,” could not bring himself
to hand over to “the League and the Radicals.”[22] Croker, however,
retorted, in a letter to Sir Henry Hardwicke, that Peel had done something
quite as bad as that: “he has,” wrote the indignant reviewer, “broken up the
old interests, divided the great families, and commenced just such a
revolution as the Noailles and Montmorencies did in 1789.” But the Iron
Duke was proof against all such appeals. He entrenched himself behind his
favourite doctrine that he was primarily a servant of her Majesty. Her
interests, he told the House of Lords, were of more importance than the
opinion of any individual about the Corn Law or any other law. At the same
time, he did not pretend to relish the situation. As he said—with a rough
soldier’s oath—to Lord Beaumont, “it is a —— mess, but I must look to the