Life of Her Majesty Queen Victoria/Chapter 13

by Millicent Garrett Fawcett

Chapter XIII.

Peace and War.

The year 1851 was memorable to the Queen, for it brought the opening of the Great Exhibition, the crown of success to prolonged efforts made by the Prince against all kinds of opposition and misrepresentation. When first the project was mooted, hardly any one had a good word to say for it. Members of Parliament in the House of Commons prayed that hail and lightning might be sent from heaven to destroy it; it was bound to be a financial failure; it would ruin Hyde Park; it would bring London ever desperado and bad character in Europe. Its actual success was beyond all anticipation, and was only heightened by the croaking which had preceded it. The Queen's delight knew no bounds, for she felt not only that the whole thing was a magnificent success, but that it was owing to the Prince that it was so, and therefore was of the nature of a personal triumph for him. The Queen wrote about the opening ceremony as "the great and glorious first of May, the proudest and happiest day … of my happy life." In her journal she wrote:—

"May 1. The great event has taken place; a complete and beautiful triumph; a glorious and touching sight,—one which I shall ever be proud of for my beloved Albert and my country. … Yes; it is a day which makes my heart swell with pride and glory and thankfulness."

The only event with which she felt she could compare it was the coronation; "but this day's festival was a thousand times superior." The effect produced on her as the view of the interior burst upon her, she speaks of as—

"Magical, so vast, so glorious, so touching. One felt—as so many did whom I have since spoken to—filled with devotion, more so than by any service I have ever heard. The tremendous cheers, the joy expressed in every face, the immensity of the building … the organ (with 200 instruments and 600 voices, which sounded like nothing), and my beloved husband the author of this 'Peace Festival': … all this was moving indeed, and it was and is a day to live forever."

It is interesting to compare this account by Her Majesty of her own emotion at the opening of the exhibition with an account of how she impressed a spectator. Dr. Stanley (afterwards Dean Stanley) wrote in a private letter:—

"I never had so good a view of the Queen before, and never saw her look so thoroughly regal. She stood in front of the chair turning round, first to one side and then to the other, with a look of power and pride, flushed with a kind of excitement which I never witnessed in any other human countenance."

There were said to have been 34,000 people in the building on opening day, and nearly a million on the line of route. The Queen, with her husband and eldest son and daughter, drove through this huge multitude with no other guard than one of honor and some policemen who were there, not so much to keep order as to aid the crowd to keep it for themselves. The Home Secretary reported to the Queen the next day that there had not been a single accident, nor had there been a single case of misconduct of any kind calling for the interference of the police. It was a magnificent object-lesson on the advantages of order springing out of liberty. Foreigners present were deeply impressed by the good behavior of the crowd, and also by its loyalty. Jacob Ominum described a dispute he overheard between a German and a Frenchman as to whether in England loyalty was a principle or a passion. His own comment was that it was both—a principle even when the Crown behaves badly; "but let it treat the people well, and this quiet principle becomes a headlong passion, swelling into such enthusiasm as the Frenchman saw when he jotted down in his notebook, 'In England loyalty is a passion.'"

The Duke of Wellington shared with the Royal Family the honors of the day. He was accompanied, according to Lord Palmerston, by a running fire of applause from the men, and of waving of handkerchiefs and kissing of hands from the women. It used to be said that people went to the exhibition as much to see the Duke of Wellington,^[1] who was a frequent visitor, as for any other purpose. The total number of visitors to the exhibition during the time it remained open was more than 6,000,000. An old Cornish woman, Mary Keslynack, not wishing to trust herself on a railway, walked to London to see the exhibition and the Queen. Her Majesty notes in her diary the fact that the old lady's wish was gratified. She "was at the door to see me,—a most hale old woman, who was near crying at my looking at her."

But this "Peace Festival" could not avert the war-cloud that was hanging over England. It is no part of the scheme of this little volume to discuss the policy of the Crimean War, but only to relate the Queen's part in it, and her intense interest in it. Even this can only be very briefly and inadequately sketched. Some idea of the labor devolving upon a conscientious Sovereign in times of national crisis may be gathered from the fact that the papers at Windsor relating to the Eastern Question and the Crimean War, covering the period between 1853 and 1857, amount to no fewer than fifty folio volumes.

The Queen, it will be remembered, had entertained the Emperor Nicholas at Windsor in 1844, and a very favorable personal impression had been made on both sides. Nicholas had then had a conversation with Peel and Aberdeen on the condition of the "Sick Man," as the Czar called Turkey, and the prospective disposition of his effects. The Czar and the English Ministers signed a memorandum favorable to the claims of Russia to protect Christians in Turkish dominions. Nicholas left England with the impression that he had considerably reduced the antagonism between England and Russia on the Turkish question. Aberdeen was now Prime Minister, and the Czar believed the moment to be favorable for translating into action the scheme which he had laid before the English Ministers in 1844. Moreover he was doubtless under the impression that England's fighting days were over, and that, therefore, whether England liked the aggression of Russia in the East or not, she would never resist it by force of arms. During the negotiations which preceded the war, the Czar took the unusual course of addressing an autograph letter to the Queen, expressing surprise that any difference should have arisen between himself and the English Government, and calling upon the Queen's "wisdom" and "good faith" to arbitrate between them. The Queen immediately sent the Czar's letter to Lord Aberdeen, as well as a draft of her reply for his approval. Count Nesselrode was very desirous of learning from our ambassador in St. Petersburg if he knew the tenor of the Queen's reply. He answered in the negative, but added, "These correspondences between Sovereigns are not regular according to our constitutional notions; but all I can say is, that if Her Majesty were called upon to write upon the Eastern affair, she would not require her Ministers' assistance. The Queen understands these questions as well as they do."

The Cabinet were by no means united in their policy. Aberdeen believed in Nicholas, and was for peace; Palmerston believed in the Turks, and was for war.^[2] Clarendon was the mediator between the two. At first the Queen and her husband were decidedly sympathetic with Aberdeen's policy. They fully acknowledged that the "ignorant, barbarian, and despotic yoke of the Mussulman" had been a curse to Europe, and agreed with Lord Aberdeen that the Turkish system was "radically vicious and inhuman." Against this view Palmerston exerted all his strength. Little by little the war fever, fanned by him and favored by events, grew fiercer and fiercer. It spared neither the palace nor the cottage, and presently there was hardly a voice raised in England for peace except those of Bright and Cobden; and their influence was weakened by the belief that they would be against all war under all circumstances. There was a very general impression in the country that if Palmerston had been at the Foreign Office no war would have been necessary. Certainly experience forces the conviction that the peace-at-any-price party, when in power, is almost certain to land the country in war; but in this particular instance it appears probably that Palmerston, having secured the French alliance, thought the moment for fighting favorable, and therefore forced on the war; and that he would have done so equally from the Foreign Office as from the Home Office. His whole attention and interest were centred on foreign affairs, and there was an excellent understanding between him and Lord Clarendon, who was Foreign Secretary.

It is needless to say that the Queen was thoroughly convinced before war was declared that it could not have been avoided, that our cause was just, and that the claim of Russia to protect the Christian subjects of Turkey was a hypocritical cloak to her aggression and ambition, and that her real object was to seize Constantinople and the command of the entrance between the Black Sea and Mediterranean, with an eye ultimately to India and the possessions of England in Asia.

The Queen and Prince were exceedingly indignant with the King of Prussia for withholding his support and sympathy from England. He was a man of weak and excitable disposition, and very much influenced by his brother-in-law, the Czar. The King's brother, however, then known as the Prince of Prussia (afterwards the Emperor William), and his son, Prince Frederic William (afterwards the husband of the Princess Royal), strongly sympathized with England; and this circumstance naturally strengthened the warm friendship already existing between them and the English Royal Family. How distant at this time must have seemed the realization of Prince Albert's and Stockmar's dream of a united Germany, and of a political alliance between England and Germany. The Prince, however, never lost sight of his goal. He wrote to his stepmother at Coburg, who was strongly Russian in her sympathies. "If there were a Germany and a German Sovereign in Berlin, this [the war] could never have happened."

When once war was declared (March, 1854), the Queen threw her whole heart and soul into the cause. She wished she had sons old enough to go, two with the army, two with the navy. Lord Aberdeen had sanctioned the setting apart of a Day of Humiliation and Prayer for the success of our arms by sea and land. The Queen very strongly and quite properly deprecated the use of the expression a Day of Humiliation. She condemned this as savoring of hypocrisy. She believed her policy to have been directed by unselfishness and honesty, and therefore felt the only appropriate prayer would be one expressive of our deep thankfulness for all the benefits we had enjoyed, and entreating the protection of the Almighty for our forces on sea and land. She equally objected to imprecations against our enemies, and suggested the use of a form already in the Prayer Book, "To be used before a Fight at Sea."

As the war went on, the Queen and the elder Princesses stimulated the activity of other women throughout England in helping to supply comforts for the wounded, and various articles of warm clothing to be distributed among the troops. The Queen also took a keen maternal interest in the establishment of a fund, afterwards called the Patriotic Fund, to provide for the orphans of those who were killed in the war. She neglected no opportunity of showing her interest in her troops, giving them in person a hearty "Godspeed" on their departure, and a cordial welcome on their return, and decorating with her own hands the surviving heroes of the various engagements. Our soldiers fought with all the old British valor and tenacity, and were successful in every great engagement; but there was a most frightful breakdown in the commissariat and stores departments of the army, and in organization generally. No Wellington or Marlborough was discovered among our generals, and no Nelson or Duncan among our admirals. The only notable personalities revealed to the nation by the Crimean War were those of Florence Nightingale and Dr. W. H. Russell, and the only new piece of military knowledge, the use of women and special correspondents in war time. Miss Nightingale and a band of other ladies, all trained nurses, were sent out at the instance of Mr. Sidney Herbert to Constantinople, and at once proceeded to take charge of the great hospital at Scutari; they arrived just in time to receive the wounded from the battle of Balaklava. Before their arrival all had been chaos and hugger-mnugger, which Miss Nightingale's "voice of velvet and will of steel" soon changed to order, and as much comfort and solace as were possible in such a place. Her gentle tenderness and compassion aroused a passion of chivalrous worship in the roughest soldiers. One of them said afterwards to Mr. Sidney Herbert, "She would speak to one and another, and nod and smile to many more, but she could not do it to all, you know,—we lay there in hundreds,—but we could kiss her shadow as it fell, and lay our heads on the pillow again, content."

The regular red-tapists of the War Office of course opposed the sending out of Miss Nightingale and the other ladies; there is no record in the Prince Consort's Life whether he and the Queen favored her mission at the outset or not. But it is certain that they, with the rest of the nation, very speedily recognized the value of the work she was doing. Her letters from the seat of war were among their sources of information, and were eagerly scanned by the Queen and her husband. After the war was over, in the autumn of 1856, she visited the Queen at Balmoral. The entry in the Prince's diary is: "She put before us all the defects of our present military hospital system. We are much pleased with her; she is extremely modest." Is it captious to wonder what they had expected her to be, and if they were surprised to find that she was not a Madame Sans-Gêne?

The letters of Dr. W. H. Russell in The Times first revealed to the nation the frightful breakdown in our military organization. The special correspondent became, from the date of the Crimean War, a force to be reckoned with. Instead of the cut-and-dried official despatches, concealing often more than revealing the truth, and intended to lay before the public only just so much of the facts as the military authorities thought it good for them to know, the special correspondent publishes for all the world to read, a vivid daily narrative of facts in which blunders and incompetence, when they exist, are given quite as much prominence as good generalship and victory. If England was disappointed at the evidence given of her want of efficient military organization, Russia had much more cause to be so. Russia had put her whole strength into her armaments; she was nothing if not a great military power; but she was everywhere unsuccessful. One of the most dramatic incidents during the war was the death of the Czar, on March 2, 1855. It was said that his disease was influenza, followed by congestion of the lungs; but some people thought he might have been said to have died of a broken heart. Punch's cartoon, "General Février turned traitor," showing Death, in a general's uniform, laying his icy hand on his victim will long be remembered.

The war fever which had fired the whole of England at the beginning of the campaign perhaps led people to expect more than was possible from the army. There was a bitter cry of anger and disappointment that our military successes in the field were not quickly followed up and taken advantage of by our generals, and especially that the sufferings of our soldiers were needlessly aggravated by the waste, incompetence, and utter muddle reigning over the distribution of the food and stores. Lord Aberdeen, the Prime Minister, was blamed; he had been dragged into the war, and never really cordially approved it, it was said. Mr. Gladstone was blamed; he was Chancellor of the Exchequer, and thought it his duty to provide the war budget out of income; "penny wise and pound foolish" was the comment on this. War is one of the things that cannot be done cheap. These and other Ministers who were attacked could defend themselves in Parliament; but the phials of public wrath were more especially directed against the Prince, who for months bore every kind of imputation and false accusation poured out against him in the press, without having any opportunity of self-defence. Even before the outbreak of the war, it had been said that he was completely anti-English in his sympathies; that we, therefore, had a traitor in our midst, able and willing to use his position on the steps of the throne to weaken and humiliate England. So diligently were these false reports circulated in the press and by word of mouth that they were the common topic of conversation all over England. At one time a report was current, and was actually believed, that the Prince had been impeached for high treason and sent to the Tower. Thousands of people assembled outside to see his entrance. If this had been the condition of the public mind before the war began, it is not difficult to imagine that the disease of suspicion and distrust broke out again after the beginning of hostilities, when there was so much to criticise in the organization of the War Department at home. The public wanted a victim, some one to wreak their anger upon, and the Prince served them for this purpose. Even so well-informed a politician, and so able a man as Mr. Roebuck, believed, and openly said to the Duke of Newcastle, the War Minister, that of course every one knew that there was a determination "in a high quarter" that the Crimean expedition should not succeed. The Duke thought that the expression, "a high quarter," was directed against himself, and said so. "Oh, no," answered Mr. Roebuck, "I mean a much higher personage than you; I mean Prince Albert."

The Duke immediately endeavored to remove this entirely false impression, and asked Mr. Roebuck if he were not aware that the Queen had been ill with anxiety about her troops. The reply was that no one doubted the Queen's devotion to her country; that when Lord Cardigan was at Windsor, one of the Royal children had said to him, "You must hurry back to Sebastopol and take it, else it will kill mamma." Yet almost in the same breath Mr. Roebuck maintained that the Prince was working behind the Queen's back against the efficient organization of the army, in order to prevent the success of her troops.

An expression made use of by the Prince in a public speech, towards the close of the Crimean War, June, 1855, has become historical. He contrasted the autocratic power of the Czar of Russia, characterized by unity of purpose and action, and when desirable by secrecy, with the Parliamentary Government of the Queen, where every movement of the army or navy, and every stage of every diplomatic negotiation are publicly proclaimed, and have to be explained and defended in Parliament; and he concluded by saying that "Constitutional Government was on its trial," and could only come through it triumphantly if the country granted a patriotic and indulgent confidence to the Ministry. This was twisted by the Prince's enemies into an attack on the principles of constitutionalism; but it really was an appeal to the good sense and patriotism of the nation, on which, at bottom, Parliamentary Government must rest.

The Tory and the Radical Press must share the blame of the disgraceful attacks made upon the Prince. The Queen was bitterly wounded by them. Greville, no courtier, as many former extracts prove, said he never remembered anything more atrocious and unjust than these savage libels. That they had been fostered by the hostility between Palmerston and the Prince there can be no doubt. One of the lies in circulation was that there was a pamphlet giving authentic proofs of the Prince's treachery to England, that the Prince had bought up all the copies but six, which were in Palmerston's possession; whereupon the Prince had made his peace with Palmerston, in order to secure the continued suppression of the pamphlet. This called forth an authoritative denial in the columns of The Morning Post from Lord Palmerston. It is probable that one motive of the Queen in bestowing the title of Prince Consort upon her husband in 1857, was to give a practical reply to these slanders. It would have been well if this had been preceded by an action for libel against the most conspicuous of the Prince's traducers; this would have given a chance of the real author of the libels being run to earth.

The alliance with France during the Crimean War led to the exchange of visits between the two Courts. The Queen and her husband were quite captivated by the loveliness and charm of the Empress Eugénie, and at first thought far better of the Emperor than he deserved. He laid himself out with considerable adroitness to please the Queen, and succeeded. The Emperor and Empress visited the Queen at Windsor in April, 1855. During their visit to England a grand fête was given in their honor at the Crystal Palace. The Emperor lived in perpetual dread of assassination, and on this occasion he appears to have communicated some of his nervous apprehension to the Queen, who wrote in her diary:—

"Nothing could have succeeded better. Still I own I felt anxious as we passed through the multitude of people who, after all, were very close to us. I felt, as I walked on the Emperor's arm, that I was possibly a protection for him. All thoughts of nervousness for myself were passed. I only thought of him; and so it is, Albert says, when one forgets one's self, one loses this great and foolish nervousness.

Her Majesty's courage and its source are well exemplified in this passage.

The return visit of the Queen to Paris took place the autumn of the same year. She was accompanied by her husband and the Prince of Wales and the Princess Royal. Some characteristic incidents connected with the Queen's visit to Paris ought to be mentioned, especially that, although overflowing with friendliness and good feeling to the Emperor, she thought it her duty to explain to him that nothing could shake her kindly relations with the Orleans family. She told him that she had been intimate with them when they were in power, and she could not drop them when they were in adversity. Possibly Louis Napoleon remembered this conversation in 1870, when he himself was an exile in England, and experienced the benefit of the Queen's faithfulness to her friends when they were in trouble. In this same conversation he opened the subject of his confiscation of the property of the Orleans family, and the Queen gave frank expression to her own views on the subject. The Queen remarks in her diary:—

"I was very anxious to get out what I had to say on the subject, and not to have this untouchable ground between us. Stockmar, so far back as last winter, suggested and advised that this course should be pursued."

After these visits letters were frequently interchanged between the two Sovereigns. In one of his, Louis Napoleon appears to have plumed himself on the advantages of an absolute monarchy, especially in conducting negotiations with other States, uncontrolled power of decision vested in the Sovereign alone, and so on. To which the Queen rejoined, "There is, however, another side to this picture, in which I consider I have an advantage which your Majesty has not. Your policy runs the risk of remaining unsupported by the nation," and you may be exposed "to the dangerous alternative of either having to impose it upon them against their will, or of having suddenly to alter your course abroad, or even, perhaps, to encounter grave resistance. I, on the other hand, can allow my policy free scope to work out its own consequences, certain of the steady and consistent support of my people, who, having had a share in determining my policy, feel themselves to be identified with it." Here, too, there was food for reflection on the Emperor's part in after years.

The Royal children greatly enjoyed their visit to Paris, and it is said that when the time came for their departure the Prince of Wales begged the Empress to get permission for him and the Princess Royal to be left behind to prolong their visit. "The Empress said she was afraid this would be impossible, as the Queen and the Prince would not be able to do without them;" to which the boy replied, "Not do without us! I don't fancy that, for there are six more of us at home, and they don't want us."

Very soon after the return of the Court to Balmoral (10th Sept., 1855) the Queen and Prince had the intense satisfaction of hearing of the fall of Sebastopol, an event which brought the end of the war within measurable distance. Peace was concluded in the following spring.

It was a source of great pride to the Queen to know that England was stronger at the end of the Crimean War than at the beginning. The country had learnt by its mistakes, and was not exhausted by its sacrifices. The Indian Mutiny, which quickly succeeded the Crimean War, found England more capable of dealing with it than if it had taken place earlier. This was fully recognized by the Prince Consort. If those who had accused him of an anti-English spirit could have read his private letters they would have had their eyes opened. He wrote to Stockmar August, 1857:—

"The events in India are a heavy domestic calamity for England. Yet, just because of this, there is less reason to despair, as the English people surpass all others in Europe in energy and vigor of character: and for strong men misfortune serves as a school for instruction and improvement."

The autumn of 1855 brought with it two interesting domestic events for the Royal Family. The new house at Balmoral was occupied for the first time; and, what was much more important, a visit from Prince Frederick William of Prussia resulted in his engagement to the Princess Royal. She was then under fifteen years of age, and it was thought best that there should be no formal betrothal, and no public announcement until after the Princess's confirmation in the following spring. The first break into the child-life of a family, by the marriage of one of its members, is always an event that awakens many emotions. The Queen and Prince were thoroughly satisfied, and had cause to be, with their future son-in-law; but the prospect of parting with their eldest child was a bitter pill. The Prussian Prince was heartily in love, and went on year after year, till his tragic death in 1888, becoming more and more a lover and friend to his wife, whom he constantly spoke of as "the ablest woman in Europe." Lady Bloomfield, whose husband was, in 1855, English Ambassador in Berlin, gives an account of the announcement there by the King at a State dinner of the engagement between his nephew and the English Princess. Lady Bloomfield says that the Prince was in such high spirits, and looked so excessively happy, it was a pleasure to see him. On their arrival in Germany, shortly after their marriage, he telegraphed to the Queen at Windsor, "The whole Royal Family is enchanted with my wife.—F. W." On the occasion of the Prince of Wales's wedding, in 1863, the Prince of Prussia was overflowing with praise of his wife. Bishop Wilberforce noted in his diary on this occasion, "I was charmed with the Prince of Prussia, and the warmth of this expressions as to his wife. 'Bishop,' he said, 'with me it has been one long honeymoon.'"

The story of the betrothal, and how it was associated with the giving and receiving of a piece of white heather, a proverbial emblem of good luck, is very prettily told by Her Majesty in "Leaves from the Journal in the Highlands." The chief anxiety the parents had in the matter was on account of the Princess's extreme youth; but her intellect and character were unusually developed, and she had, what so often accompanies fine intellect, a child-like innocence and purity of heart which specially endeared her to all in her home circle. Prince Albert wrote at once to Stockmar to tell him the news: "Victoria," he wrote, "is greatly excite; still, all goes smoothly and prudently. The Prince is really in love, and the little lady does her best to please him."

The engagement was not well received by an important section of the English Press. So little could the writer of the articles read the future, that Prussia was sneered at "as a paltry German dynasty," Prince Frederick William was described as being in "ignominious attendance" on his "Imperial Master" the Czar, and it was predicted that the Princess would become anti-English in feeling, and also, with not much consistency, that she would be sent back to England at no distant date, "an exile and a fugitive." The ignorance of this attack robbed it of its poignancy. Prince Frederick William and his father were strongly in accord with the policy of England during the Crimean War, and consequently very much out of favor at their own Court and in St. Petersburg.

Prince Albert had always taken the keenest interest in directing the education of his eldest daughter, and the fact that she was probably destined to occupy in Prussia a position somewhat similar to his own in England, strengthened the already strong bonds of union between them. From the time of her engagement he worked with her daily at historical subjects, and spared no pains to equip her well for her future duties. She translated important political pamphlets from German into English under his direction, and he took undisguised fatherly pride in her capacity and in her widening interests in life. An accident, which might have had very serious consequences, happened to the Princess in 1856, which illustrated her self-control and reliance on her father. As she was sealing a letter she set fire to the muslin sleeve of her dress, and her right arm was very badly burned; the wound was terrible to look at, as the muslin was burnt into the flesh; it must have caused very severe pain, but the Princess never lost her presence of mind or habitual thoughtfulness for others. She did not utter a cry, and said: "Don't frighten mamma, send for papa first." Her marriage took place on January 25th, 1858. She was a very youthful bride, having only lately completed her seventeenth year. Her first child, the present Emperor William II., was born on January 27th, 1859. His birth nearly cost the life of his young mother. The Queen's daughter has not had a bed of roses in her adopted country, any more than the Queen's husband had a bed of roses here. But in both cases cruel misrepresentation on the part of a section of the public was more than compensated by the loving appreciation and generous confidence which marriage brought them. The Princess Royal and the Prince Consort each had many a drop of bitterness in their cup; but while he lived, Prince Frederick William was her faithful worshipper, just as the Queen was and is of the Prince Consort.

On the day of the Princess Royal's marriage the entry in the Queen's Diary runs:—

"The second most eventful day of my life as regards feelings. I felt as if I were being married over again myself, only much more nervous, for I had not that blessed feeling which I had then, which raises and supports one, of giving myself up for life to him whom I loved and worshipped—then and ever!"

Speaking of the ceremony in the Chapel Royal, St. James's, Her Majesty adds:—

"The drums and trumpets played marches, and the organ played others as the procession approached and entered; … the effect was thrilling and striking as you heard the music gradually coming nearer and nearer. Fritz looked pale and much agitated, but behaved with the greatest self-possession, bowing to us, and then kneeling down in a most devotional manner. Then came the bride's procession, and our darling Flower looked very touching and lovely, with such an innocent, confident, and serious expression. It was beautiful to see her kneeling with Fritz, their hands joined. … My last fear of being overcome vanished on seeing Vicky's quiet, calm, and composed manner. … Dearest Albert took her by the hand to give her away, my beloved Albert (who, I saw, felt so strongly), which reminded me vividly of having in the same way, proudly, tenderly, confidently, most lovingly, knelt by him, on this very same spot, and having our hands joined there."

The Queen and the Prince Consort both recalled the series of important Royal marriages between German Princes and English Princesses, beginning with the marriage of Princess Charlotte, heiress to the throne, to Prince Leopold in 1816, then their own in 1840, and, lastly, of their child to the heir to the throne of Prussia, in 1858. The Prince Consort wrote on the wedding-day to the faithful Stockmar:—

"My heart impels me to send you a line to-day, as I cannot shake you by the hand. In a few hours our child will be a wedded wife! a work in which you have had a large share, and, I know, will take a cordial interest. It is just eighteen years since you subscribed my marriage contract, and were present in the same Chapel Royal at my union with Victoria. Uncle Leopold, whom you, now forty-two years ago, accompanied to London on the occasion of his marriage, will, with myself, be one of the bride's supporters. These reminiscences must excite a special feeling within you to-day, with which I hope is coupled the conviction that we all gratefully revere in you a dear friend and wise counsellor."

On a bitter winter day, February 2nd, 1858, the Queen and Prince bade farewell to their darling child on her departure for Germany. The bride's exclamation had been, "I think it will kill me to take leave of dear papa." Those who witnessed her departure through London and at Gravesend spoke of her floods of tears, and many a sympathizing thought went with the daughter of England to her new home.

1. The Duke of Wellington died in September, 1852, deeply mourned by the Queen and her husband. The Queen wrote to her uncle, "You will mourn with us over the loss we and the whole nation have experienced in the death of the dear and great Duke of Wellington. … He was the pride, and the good genius, as it were, of this country, the most loyal and devoted subject, and the stanchest supporter the Crown ever had. He was to us a true friend and most valuable adviser. … We shall soon stand sadly alone. Aberdeen is almost the only personal friend of that kind left to us. Melbourne, Peel, Liverpool, now the Duke, all gone!"
2. The only criticism ever made by Palmerston on the Turks was that it was impossible to expect much energy from a people who wore no heels to their shoes!