Читать книгу The Life and Times of Queen Victoria (Vol. 1-4) - Robert Thomas Wilson - Страница 13

Table of Contents

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.