The Civil War in America naturally caused many discussions. The Cabinet, on the whole, were loyal to the policy of the Queen and the Prince Consort, which was that of scrupulous neutrality. But they were not quite loyal to her Majesty’s desire that neutrality should be tempered by generous consideration for the great and unprecedented difficulties with which President Lincoln’s Administration had to contend. The effect of the virtual withdrawal of the Queen from public life was soon seen in the supercilious tone of Lord Russell’s despatches, and in the latitude of criticism in which Lord Palmerston too frequently indulged in his references to American affairs in the House of Commons. The partisans of the Southern States made strenuous efforts to induce the Government to declare that the blockade of the Southern ports would not be recognised. But Lord Palmerston and Lord Russell, greatly to their credit, refused to yield to pressure on this point, although it was known that the French Emperor would have supported them gladly if they had yielded. The argument of the Opposition, beaten out over many long wearisome speeches, simply came to this—that the blockade was inefficient, and was, therefore, by international law invalid. It will always be difficult to understand how responsible persons could gravely maintain that position in face of the fact that Lancashire was starving because she could not get cotton out of Southern harbours, and that English trade was suffering because English goods could not get into them. The affair of the Trent gave rise to a brisk passage at arms between Mr. Bright and Lord Palmerston. Mr. Bright complained that whilst the Foreign Office was busy settling the dispute by firm but conciliatory diplomacy, the War Office and Admiralty were spending £1,000,000 on provocative preparations for war, which inflamed popular excitement in America, and really rendered it difficult for the United States Government to admit that they were in the wrong. “It is not customary,” said Mr. Bright, “in ordinary life for a person to send a messenger with a polite message to a friend, or neighbour, or acquaintance, and at the same time to send a man of portentous strength, wielding a gigantic club and making every kind of ferocious gesticulation, and still to profess that all this is done in the most friendly and courteous manner.” Lord Palmerston’s defence was that Mr. Lincoln’s Cabinet was in danger of being overawed by mob dictation, and that the preparations for war which Mr. Bright condemned, neutralised the pressure of popular passion in the United States Government. A curious illustration of the provocative tone adopted by the Ministry in their dealings with the United States was given by their condemnation of an order issued by General Butler, the military governor of New Orleans. The ladies of that city, after its occupation by Federal troops, appear to have been in the habit of publicly insulting their conquerors by methods which most respectable persons would hesitate to adopt. General Butler put a stop to these practices by ordering the military authorities to treat the culprits as if they were loose women plying a disreputable vocation. What the British Government had to do with the police arrangements of a foreign army in a foreign city it is not possible to conceive. Still, Lord Carnarvon, Sir John Walsh, and Mr. Gregory insisted that the Government should protest against General Butler’s order; and Lord Palmerston considered he was entitled to denounce the order as “infamous,” to assert that “Englishmen must blush to think that it came from a man of the Anglo-Saxon race,” and to declare that the course which the Cabinet would take “was matter for consideration.” As Lord Palmerston took no “course,” it is to be presumed that he preferred to “blush” for General Butler, rather than run the risk of being snubbed by Mr. Seward. On the 18th of July Mr. Lindsay, in spite of protests from Mr. Ewart, Mr. Clay, and some others, persisted in pressing a motion in the House of Commons which, if carried, would have pledged the Government to mediate between the belligerents in the interests of the Southern States. The debate was an elaborate argument on the part of Tory speakers for the recognition of the Confederate Government. But the responsible leaders of the Opposition took no part in it, and Lord Palmerston refused to abandon his policy of neutrality.

Towards the close of the Session it was seen that the operatives of Lancashire must quickly sink into pauperism. The blockade of the Southern ports cut off the exports of cotton. The cotton mills in Lancashire, it was evident, must soon be stopped, and a teeming industrial population must become a prey to famine. Mr. C. Villiers, President of the Poor Law Board, accordingly introduced a Bill enabling Boards of Guardians to meet extraordinary demands for poor law relief. It provided that any parish which was overburdened by extraordinary pauperism might claim a subvention from the common fund of the Union to which it belonged, and that in certain cases one Union might call upon others in the county for assistance. Mr. Cobden, Mr. Ayrton, and Mr. Puller were strongly in favour of permitting distressed Unions to raise money by loans as well as by a rate-in-aid, and Mr. Villiers ultimately yielded to the pressure which they put on him.[131]

Mr. Gladstone’s Budget was hotly attacked. His estimated expenditure—including supplementary estimates—for the year 1861-62 had been £71,374,000. The actual expenditure had been less than that by £536,000. But still the revenue had only amounted to £69,674,000, so that there was a deficit of £1,164,000. Had there been no supplementary estimates voted there would, however, have been a surplus of £335,000. The harvest had been bad, and the American War had depressed trade. Hence it was not natural to look for elasticity in the revenue. Yet Mr. Gladstone estimated the revenue for 1862-63 at £70,190,000. As the expenditure would be £70,040,000, he could not look for a surplus on the existing basis of taxation of more than £150,000. He would not, he said, impose new taxes. But on the other hand he could not remit any old ones. He even proposed to abolish the duty on hops, and as a set-off readjust brewers’ licenses, so as to sacrifice by this change only £45,000 of revenue. His scheme, in fact, consisted of a Budget without a real

surplus, and its only popular feature was the simplification of the wine duties.[132] Why had Mr. Gladstone failed to provide a surplus? Had not Peel said that one ought always to begin the year with a surplus? Why was the Paper Duty surrendered, seeing it would have provided a surplus? Why did Ministers persist in exceptional expenditure when they assured the country that their relations with the only foreign Government that could be distrusted were friendly and satisfactory? Our expenditure was due to distrust of Napoleon III., whose objects were the same as ours. And yet,

said Mr. Disraeli, instead of acting cordially in alliance with France for the purpose of maintaining English influence in the councils of Europe, Lord Palmerston had tried to attain that end by exerting what was called the “moral power” of the country, which really meant “bloated armaments in time of peace.” If the conduct of France justified distrust, why not go to war with her? If she was not giving us cause for distrust, why waste money in preparing for war with her? Such were the questions and arguments which Mr. Disraeli put forward. But Peel’s doctrine of the surplus was of course never meant to apply to all circumstances. As for the Paper Duty, to expect Mr. Gladstone to revert to it was as absurd as to ask Nature to bring back the Mastodon. It was more difficult to escape from Mr. Disraeli’s dilemma as to the relations of England and France, but Lord Palmerston satisfied the House at this time that by outstripping the armaments of France he really freed her from any temptation she might have to become an enemy. The Radical Party, however, induced Mr. Stansfeld to move a resolution asserting that expenditure could be reduced with safety to the country, and the Tories showed their sympathy with the attack, when Mr. Walpole gave notice of another expressing a hope that expenditure might be cut down. Lord Palmerston said such attacks involved the fate of the Ministry—which settled the matter. Mr. Stansfeld’s resolution was rejected. Mr. Walpole, loving Lord Palmerston better than retrenchment, withdrew his motion, for which Mr. Disraeli, to the consternation of his party, assailed him bitterly, and Lord Palmerston carried unanimously a vote of confidence in himself.

The fight in March between the Confederate iron-clad Merrimac, and the Federal Monitor, indicated that wooden war-ships were henceforth useless. The Admiralty were therefore pressed to push forward the construction of iron-clad ships. Nay, it was suggested that the new type of iron-clads, working guns from revolving turrets, was better for coast defence than the costly fortifications on which Lord Palmerston had persisted in spending enormous sums of money. Why not, it was asked, stop the building of forts at Spithead till the value of iron-cased gunboats for coast defence had been fully considered? Strong supporters of Lord Palmerston’s fortification scheme—like Sir J. Hay—declared that their opinion as to the necessity for the Spithead forts had changed, because a ship of the Monitor type being a movable fort was of course more useful than any fixed fortification. Then, if the country spent, as it would probably have to spend, £20,000,000 on a great fortification scheme, how were the forts to be manned? Was the House of Commons prepared to vote for a corresponding increase in the Army? The Government, however, insisted on getting the money for fortifications voted, though events subsequently justified the criticism of their opponents. The economists consoled themselves by making a fierce but futile assault on the Ministry at the end of the Session, in the course of which Mr. Cobden declared that Lord Palmerston’s policy was based on a phantom of French aggression, and that it had cost the country £100,000,000. Colonial defence was more practically dealt with, for early in the year the House of Commons adopted a resolution to the effect that self-governing colonies should in the main provide for their own defence.

Foreign politics gave rise to no important debate in the House. Abortive attempts were made to induce the Government to make representations to Russia on behalf of the Poles, which would probably have led to Russia imploring the Ministry to deal more generously with Ireland. Partisans of the Pope and of the deposed Italian despots also indulged in impotent demonstrations of hostility against the new Kingdom of Italy. A Session which was from a party point of view almost colourless, ended on the 7th of August, the only discernible result of its proceedings being an aggravation of the feud between Lord Palmerston and the Radicals, who, as Mr. Cobden said, would now be better pleased to see the Tories in power. But the Tories had no desire to hold office till they were strong enough to resist Radical dictation. The Queen, too, was more than usually desirous that, in the circumstances, a Cabinet should remain in power which could avert Ministerial crises. Thus Lord Palmerston’s dictatorship was again confirmed.

The policy of intervention in Mexico in conjunction with France and Spain was not one which found much favour in England, although King Leopold of Belgium endeavoured to win the Queen over to support it in the interests of his son-in-law, the Archduke Maximilian of Austria. It was for this purpose that his Majesty carried on his intrigues at Osborne early in February. The real object of his policy was to establish a monarchy in Mexico, and to persuade the Queen that the Mexicans desired to have Maximilian as their ruler. This, however, was not divulged at the time, and thus, so far as England was concerned, she stood committed—despite King Leopold’s secret negotiations at Osborne—to nothing save to act with Spain and France in obtaining from Mexico satisfaction for wrongs done to certain British subjects. The French Emperor, however, was bent on creating a Latin Monarchy in the New World, under French protection, as a counterpoise to the great Anglo-Saxon Republic. After the allies landed, dissensions soon became manifest when the French contingent was doubled. Spain objected to convert Mexico into a French dependency, nominally under the rule of an Austrian Archduke. Hence, when the Mexican Government of Juarez offered to submit to the original demands of the allies, England and Spain accepted their proposals, and withdrew their forces. The French had permitted a Mexican conspirator called Almonte to accompany their expedition, and as his object was to overthrow the Mexican Government, President Juarez demanded that he should be sent back to Paris. The French refused, and made the demand an excuse for declining to treat with the Mexican Government. This, of course, broke up the alliance, and General Lorencez was ordered to march on Mexico, and enable the natives to choose a Government with which France could negotiate, which meant that they were to vote for a French Protectorate under the Archduke Maximilian. As a preliminary token of their appreciation of this proposal, the Mexican troops stopped the march of Lorencez at Orizaba. General Forey, with reinforcements, was accordingly sent out from France to prosecute the war, which was already unpopular with all Frenchmen who were not slaves of the Ultramontane Party.

During the last six months of the year, events in Italy and Greece preoccupied the Cabinet. Indeed, affairs in Greece took a turn that for the moment roused the Queen from the depths of her sorrow.

Baron Riccasoli, who succeeded Count Cavour, did not hold office long. The object of his policy was to win Rome for Italy, which rendered him obnoxious to Napoleon III. Moreover, he was too stiff and formal in his manners for the loose-living King of Italy, and so his fall was inevitable. To him succeeded Ratazzi—a Minister who was acceptable to Napoleon because he thought more of winning back Venice, than of expelling the French from the Holy City. How far Victor Emmanuel and Ratazzi participated in an intrigue, the result of which was that General Garibaldi began to raise the “Party of Action,” is not clear. At any rate, Garibaldi, at a meeting of a rifle club in Palermo, at which the Heir Apparent to the Crown was present, announced his intention of opening a new campaign of liberation. From Sicily he led a band of “Red Shirts” to the mainland, evidently under the impression that he was to repeat his former exploits with the secret connivance of the Italian Government. Before he advanced into the heart of Calabria, he found he had been deceived. Victor Emmanuel’s troops attacked and dispersed his irregular forces at Aspromonte, before they came into collision with the French. Garibaldi himself was wounded, and though at first sent as a prisoner to Spezia, he was soon afterwards set free, and his “rebellion” forgiven. Napoleon III. then induced Russia and Prussia to recognise the Kingdom of Italy. But in November Ratazzi resigned rather than face a vote of censure, and Farini succeeded him.

Italian intriguers had been busy at Athens fomenting rebellion against King Otho. Their object was to depose him, and seat Prince Thomas, the Duke of Genoa, on the throne. Russian and French intrigues seem also to have been going on. But every conspiracy, whether of native or foreign origin, had for its object the expulsion of King Otho, whose authority had been undermined by Palmerston’s treatment in 1850, and whose reign had done nothing to gratify Greek aspirations for an extension of territory. Otho’s opposition to progressive reform rendered him an obstacle to those who thought that Greece in the Ottoman Empire, might play the part of Piedmont in Italy. He was therefore driven from his throne, and the Crown of Greece offered to Prince Alfred of England, on whose behalf it was declined. England, however, showed her goodwill to Greece by declaring herself ready to surrender the Ionian Islands, an offer which gave Lord Palmerston an opportunity of emphasising his belief in “the doctrine of nationalities,” which he had so strenuously insisted on applying in Italy. In 1863, when the Greeks chose a Danish Prince for their King, these islands were transferred to Greece.

In Germany the cause of Reform slept. Austria apparently had increased her influence, because the King of Prussia was in conflict with the representatives of the Prussian people as to the reorganisation and strengthening of

the Army. But Hungary and Venetia had still to be held down by the sword. The Queen, however much she might regret the contest between the Crown and the nation in Prussia, did not view it with the scornful levity that was fashionable at the time in England. She knew that the carrying out of the military policy of Prussia was the condition precedent to the incorporation of North Germany under Prussian leadership. She was well aware that when the Bernstorff Ministry fell, Count von Bismarck, Prussian Minister at Paris, would become President of the Council, and she knew what purpose he had in view. Von Bismarck had, in fact, visited London in July, 1862, and he had conversed freely and frankly with the leaders of both parties. At a dinner party given by Baron Brunnow in his honour, he revealed his plans to Mr. Disraeli, who on the same evening repeated the conversation to Count Vitzthum. “‘I shall soon,’ said in effect the Prussian statesman, ‘be compelled to undertake the conduct of the Prussian Government. My first care will be to reorganise the Army, with or without the help of the Landtag. The King was right in undertaking this task, but he cannot accomplish it with his present advisers. As soon as the Army shall have been brought into such a condition as to inspire respect, I shall seize the first best pretext to declare war against Austria, dissolve the German Diet, subdue the minor States, and give national unity to Germany under Prussian leadership. I have come here to say this to the Queen’s Ministers.’”[133] Count Vitzthum adds that Mr. Disraeli’s commentary was, “Take care of that man! he means what he says.” On the other hand, the late Lord Ampthill—who was present at the dinner—told Mr. Lowe, the biographer of Prince Bismarck,[134] that Mr. Disraeli described the Bismarckian policy as the “mere moonshine of a German Baron.”[135] The Landtag refused to sanction an increase in the Army, for which it saw no obvious use. The King could not publicly avow why the increase was wanted. The Cabinet confessed itself helpless in the dilemma, whereupon the King telegraphed for Count von Bismarck, who was holiday-making in the Pyrenees, to come to Berlin. He arrived there on the 19th of September. On the 23rd, after seven days’ debate, the Chamber refused to vote the Army Estimates and the Ministry resigned. The King’s retort was the appointment as Prime Minister of the man, whose policy was that of “blood and iron.” From that moment the history of Continental Europe took a fresh departure, which was watched by the Queen with anxious eyes. Like the Prince Consort, her sympathies were with the new Prussian policy. Only, she would have endeavoured to attain Von Bismarck’s ends without using his methods. That the Bismarckian methods were adopted in less than a year after the Prince Consort’s death, only serves to illustrate how quickly the policy of the Court of Berlin changed after the King of Prussia was emancipated from Prince Albert’s moderating influence.

As might be expected, the struggle in America was followed in England with keen interest, and step by step. The Confederate States found no difficulty in raising troops, and in supplying them with capable leaders. They seemed to have raised money on the security of their stocks of cotton. But they evidently were soon in financial straits, for Mr. Mason told some of his intimate friends in London in February that it would be hardly possible for the Confederates to find money for their troops much longer. The war was then costing them £500,000 a day. The Federal Government was more prosperous. In a few months it had 800,000 men under arms, and even its enemies bore testimony to the fact that these troops were always well paid and well fed. General McClellan, during the autumn and winter of 1861, organised a great army for the defence of Washington, which was menaced by the Confederate forces. Instead of dispersing these, McClellan contented himself with watching them. Early in January the Federals at Mill Springs, Kentucky, foiled an attempt of the Confederates to attack Ohio. Next month Burnside captured the Confederate garrison of Roanoke, in North Carolina, and in March he also took Newbern. Fort Henry, on the Tennessee, and Fort Donelson, on the Cumberland River, yielded to General Grant, and Pope seized a Confederate post on the Mississippi, called “Island No. 10.” On the 24th of February Commodore Farragut, after a brilliant action, forced the defences of New Orleans, from which the Confederates retreated, and the city was then occupied by General Butler. So far victory had crowned the Federal banners. But on the 6th of April the fortune of war favoured the Confederates, when General Albert Sydney Johnston surprised Grant at Pittsburg Landing, on the west side of the Tennessee River, opposite to Savannah. The timely arrival of General Buell and the galling fire of two Federal gunboats on the river saved Grant’s army from utter destruction, and when night fell he still stood at bay on the river’s bank. Next morning (the 7th) he renewed the struggle with characteristic obstinacy, and drove the Confederates back to their lines at Corinth. In this action General Johnston was killed. To him succeeded Beauregard, who for many weeks held, by sheer audacity, the lines at Corinth against Halleck and 150,000 Federal troops. At last Beauregard and his army suddenly vanished, leaving Halleck and his lieutenant, Pope, in a state of stupefaction at their disappearance.[136] The Western States echoed with the tramp of armed men on both sides, but save for a Confederate defeat at Corinth in October, and a Federal surrender at Hartville in December, nothing worth recording happened. The lesson from the year’s campaign in this region was that the Confederates blundered by trying to do too much when they attempted to hold the line of the Ohio. Vicksburg was the only strong post which they retained on the Mississippi. On sea they were more successful. They nailed iron rails on to the hull of the old United States warship Virginia, and sent her forth in March from the Navy Yard at Norfolk as the Merrimac to spread terror through the Federal transport fleet. The United States ironclad, Monitor, however, fought her on the 9th of March and drove her into port. At close quarters the shot glanced off the protected sides of the ships, and it was not till the Monitor fired into the unprotected part of the Merrimac’s hull that she disabled her. This action—as we have seen—aroused naval critics in England, and convinced them that the “wooden walls” of the country were obsolete.

Meanwhile great expectations had centred in the Army of the Potomac. Its leader, McClellan, was one of the most highly trained and scientific soldiers in the service of the Federal Government. Its numbers were overwhelming, and yet month after month passed by and it did nothing. It permitted the Confederates to retreat unmolested from their lines at Manassas in spring, when McClellan pursued them for two days. He then suddenly returned to Washington, and made arrangements to convey his army from the Potomac to the peninsula between York River and James River. From that point he meant to deliver a crushing blow against Richmond, the Confederate capital. At this moment President Lincoln deprived McClellan of the Command-in-Chief, and gave Generals McDowell and Fremont independent commands in Northern Virginia. It is not fair to forget, therefore, in criticising McClellan’s movements, that he thus lost the right to dispose of McDowell’s division as he pleased, for the protection of his left flank. McClellan’s campaign was unfortunate. General Joseph Johnston artfully seduced him into the swamps of the Chickahominy River, where he settled down and entrenched himself behind earthworks, while Stuart, with the Confederate cavalry, worked round the Federal right, looted part of their camp, and returned in safety to Richmond. General Jackson—“Stonewall” Jackson—dashing through the Shenandoah Valley, had driven the Federals under Banks back to the Potomac, and was menacing Washington. McDowell, who was hastening to McClellan’s aid, was suddenly recalled to protect the Federal capital, and McClellan, whose position was now hopeless, had to retreat, after repeated attacks, to Harrison’s Landing, on the James River—a manœuvre which was termed by the New York Press “a strategic movement to the rear.” He then embarked his army at Aquia Creek, and took it to Alexandria. To cover McClellan’s retreat, Pope advanced from the Rapidan to the Rappahannock, but was met by the Confederate General, Robert Lee, who fought a drawn battle with him at Cedar Mountain on the 9th of August. Jackson, by a rapid movement westward, crossed the Blue Mountains and thrust himself between Pope’s rear and Washington, and again Stuart made a raid on the Federal camp. Pope was now completely outmanœuvred, so he was fain to fall back on the Potomac and the strong lines of Washington. Lee pushed on, intending to raise Maryland. He was checked by McClellan at Antietam, and recrossed the Potomac, but without being pursued. Jackson now captured the Federal garrison at Harper’s Ferry.

A month elapsed before McClellan renewed his advance on Richmond, and in November he was dismissed from his command. Halleck was now Commander-in-Chief, and Burnside, McClellan’s successor, transferring the struggle

to the Rappahannock, undertook to advance on Richmond—a movement which was partly forced on him by the Government at Washington, in order to redeem the prestige it had lost through McClellan’s failures. On the 13th of December he was defeated by Lee with great slaughter at Fredericksburg, the news of this victory creating much excitement in England. This ended the campaign for the year. New Orleans was all that the Federals had to show for two years’ campaigns. Their invasion of Virginia was rolled back, and the partisans of the Southern States in England pointed to this fact as a proof that the Union could never be restored by force. In the Northern States the Abolitionist faction had now absorbed the Republican Party. Slavery was abolished in the district of Columbia, and Lincoln was induced to say that he was now ready to restore the Union with or without slavery. Finally he issued his proclamation on the 22nd of September, declaring that he would recommend Congress to pass a Bill to free all slaves in rebel States. In England the proclamation was sneered at as an act of confiscation, and Lord Russell sent a despatch to Lord Lyons, scoffing at it with ill-concealed malice as “a measure of war, and a measure of war of a very questionable character.” The naval operations of the belligerents also gave Lord Russell several opportunities for controversy. He waxed very indignant over the blockade of Charleston harbour, where the Federals had sunk ships loaded with ballast. In January the Confederate cruiser Nashville, after preying on American commerce, ran into Southampton Water for repairs. Mr. Adams, the American Minister in London, warned Lord Russell that her conduct had been almost piratical, to which Lord Russell replied that as she bore the commission of a recognised belligerent she would be allowed to make such necessary repairs as would not increase her fighting power, and that care would be taken to prevent the Foreign Enlistment Act from being infringed. The excitement created by the Trent affair was dying out, when the country was startled to find a United States cruiser, Tuscarora, moored in Itchen Creek, and watching the Nashville. Her officers and men were accused of prowling suspiciously close to the Nashville, and people began to ask if the Government was going to tolerate such an outrage as a naval engagement in an English creek. Lord Russell warned Mr. Adams that Captain Craven of the Tuscarora must respect our neutrality, and that whichever ship left first must have twenty-four hours’ “law” before the other was allowed to follow. H.M.S. Dauntless and Shannon were sent to Southampton to overawe Captain Craven, who ultimately put to sea. The Nashville followed, and thus escaped her antagonist.

A more romantic and perplexing case was that of a British ship, the Emilie St. Pierre. She had sailed from Calcutta for St. John’s, New Brunswick, and had gone to Charleston to see if the port was blockaded. The Federal cruiser, James Adger, seized her, and put a prize crew on board. The skipper of the Emilie St. Pierre—a Scotsman called Wilson—aided by the cook and steward, one morning overpowered the prize crew and their officers by a clever stratagem, and after escaping many dangers brought the ship safely into Liverpool on the 31st of April. Wilson for the moment was the idol of the seafaring population, and Mr. Adams, somewhat nettled at the defeat of the prize crew, demanded the surrender of the vessel. Lord Russell refused, alleging that the Government had no legal power to seize her, or “interfere with her owners in relation to their property in her.”

These controversies rather embittered the relations between Americans and Englishmen in this country. It was therefore most gratifying to the Queen to learn that a kind-hearted citizen of the United States, whose princely charity has endeared his memory to the English-speaking race, had bestowed on the poor of London a gift of surpassing munificence. Mr. George Peabody had a high reputation as a merchant in the City, where his generosity and courageous use of his credit had saved many firms from ruin in the financial crisis of 1857. In the spring of 1862 he made over to Trustees the sum of £150,000, to be applied for the benefit of the poor of London, his only stipulation being, that the management and application of the fund should be free from all sectarian bias. He did not limit the discretion of the Trustees, though he suggested that they would best spend the money in providing improved dwellings for the people. His ideas were not quite carried out, for the blocks of buildings erected by the Peabody Trustees were soon occupied, not by the poor of London, but by the lower middle class, who were not meant by Mr. Peabody to participate in the benefits of his gift.

The 1st of May had been fixed for the opening of the Great Exhibition of 1862, and the ceremony was a somewhat mournful one. The sable liveries of the lackeys who appeared in the grand procession served to remind the people of the late Prince Consort, who had been the life and soul of the project. His place was taken by the Duke of Cambridge and the Crown Prince of Prussia, who was associated with him by the special request of the Queen, as one of her representatives. South Kensington was crowded with sightseers, and it was admitted that the ceremonial was one of the most imposing pageants that had ever been witnessed. To the daïs, where the formal business of inauguration was transacted, none but persons in uniform were admitted, and the scene was therefore bright with rich masses of colour, glittering with the flashing jewels of knightly Orders and military decorations. When the Duke of Cambridge and the other Special Commissioners had taken their seats, the National Anthem was sung, and Earl Granville, as the representative of the Exhibition Commissioners, placed an address to the Queen in the hands of his Royal Highness. To this the Duke replied, alluding in touching terms to the death of the Prince Consort, and to the affliction which had prostrated the Queen with sorrow. The brilliant procession then slowly filed down from the daïs to the eastern dome, where Meyerbeer’s Overture en forme de Marche, written for the occasion, was performed, and Tennyson’s fine ode, set to music by Professor Sterndale Bennett, was given. Its allusions to Prince Albert went home to every heart:—

were lines that gave expression to the feeling of the country with rare felicity and power. It was admitted on all hands that the building of the new Exhibition was far grander and far larger than that of 1851. But on the other hand the witchery of the Palace, with its walls of crystal and its strong flood of diffused light, had vanished. The roof and walls of the new building were solid, and these and the windows “factory-patterned,” as a singer in Punch called them, destroyed the sensation of unconfined space which one felt on entering the Crystal Palace of 1851, and which gave to that structure its magical charm.

On the 14th of June the Prince of Wales, who had completed the Eastern tour that had been planned for him by his father, returned to England. He had left Osborne on the 6th of February with General Bruce and a carefully selected suite, of whom Dr. A. P. Stanley (afterwards Dean of Westminster), who joined him at Alexandria, was a member. On the 1st of March he landed at Alexandria, where, despite his incognito as Baron Renfrew, he was saluted with Royal honours. At Cairo he enjoyed the hospitality of the Viceroy of Egypt, and on the 4th of March left the city for the Pyramids, which were reached just as the mysterious outline of the Sphinx was vanishing in the fading light of sunset. At dawn the Prince ascended the Great Pyramid without assistance, much to the amazement of the Bedouins, who asked, sceptically, “Is that the Governor? If so, why does he go alone?” The party then went up the Nile as far as the First Cataract, viewing the Temple at Esneh by torchlight. After Assouan and its antiquities were explored, the Prince returned down the river, halting three days at Thebes, where he met the Duke and Duchess of Saxe-Coburg. On the 21st of March a tournament between some Arnauts and Arab chiefs was held; then Memphis was visited, and Cairo again reached on the 23rd. After some other excursions the Prince proceeded to Jerusalem, which he entered on the 31st of March. He was received by the

Pacha and a picturesque escort of wild horsemen, who kept circling round the party, brandishing their spears and firing their guns in mimic combat. His Royal Highness pitched his tent on the northern side of the city, near the Damascus Gate, and visited all the sacred places—even those from which Christians are excluded being opened to him.[137] He left Jerusalem on the 10th of April, and next day arrived at Nablûs, on the eve of the Samaritan Passover. He ascended Mount Gerizim, and saw this last vestige of the old Jewish ritual performed, the sun sinking behind the western hills as the Paschal sheep were sacrificed. On the 15th he encamped at the foot of Mount Carmel, and on Easter eve saw the sun set on the Sea of Galilee. At Damascus he received but a churlish welcome from the sullen, fanatical population, and on the 6th of May he visited Beyrout. On the 10th he landed at Tripoli, and on the 12th explored the cedar groves of Lebanon. On the 15th the Royal yacht touched at Rhodes, on the 17th at Patmos, and—after visiting Smyrna, Constantinople, Athens, Cephalonia, and Malta—the tour ended at Marseilles. A brief visit was paid to the French Emperor at Fontainebleau, and on the 14th of June the travellers reached Windsor. Three days afterwards the Queen heard, to her deep regret, that General Bruce—long a trusted friend of her family—had died from Syrian fever, contracted during his journey. He had sacrificed his life to the chivalrous discharge of his duties as the Prince’s Governor, and the Queen felt only too keenly that his loss was an irreparable calamity at a time when his wise guidance and exquisite tact rendered his services to her eldest son of supreme importance.[138]

During the greater part of the year the Queen led a life of absolute seclusion. The first public sign of her renewed interest in current events was given when the tidings of the Hartley Colliery accident sent a thrill of horror through every English heart. On the 16th of January the beam of the steam-engine in the Hartley coal-pit snapped. The shaft was blocked and shattered by the wreck of the machinery, and some two hundred and four miners were consigned to a lingering death in the workings, into which the water poured at the rate of 1,500 gallons a minute. For nine days rescue parties toiled without stint or ceasing to reach the prisoners. They even heard their efforts to cut their way out, but were unable to reach them. When a gang was at last able to penetrate to the workings they found men and boys lying dead in groups, surrounded by mournful relics and painful records of their last hours of agony. The male population of three hamlets was swept away; every cottage contained a coffin, some, alas! more than one, over which widows and orphans wailed out their hearts in unavailing sorrow. Among the first to express sympathy with the bereaved ones was the Queen. Haud ignara mali miseris succurrere disco was probably the thought that flashed across her mind when she sent her anxious telegraphic messages to the scene of the disaster, whilst as yet there were hopes that some lives might be saved. After the funeral, the scene at a great religious meeting held at the pit was most touching, when the incumbent of Earsdon read to the assembly of mourners a letter which her Majesty had dictated to Sir Charles Phipps, and which had been addressed to the head viewer (or overseer) of the mine. It ran as follows:—

It was estimated that £17,000 would be needed for the relief of the widows and orphans. In London alone £20,000 was sent to the Lord Mayor, and by the end of February it was necessary to close the fund, for upwards of £81,000 had been generously subscribed by the public.[139]

A glimpse of the early days of the Queen’s widowhood is afforded in the “Diaries” of one of her chaplains in Scotland—the late Dr. Norman Macleod, Minister of the Barony Parish Kirk, Glasgow. Her Majesty was advised to retire to Balmoral in the first week of May, and when she reached her Highland home she commanded the attendance of Dr. Macleod. He seems to have been somewhat nervous at being called upon to undertake the delicate duty of offering spiritual consolation to his widowed Sovereign. On the 12th of May, however, Dr. Macleod, writing to his wife, says, with a sense of relief, “All has passed well—that is to say, God enabled me to speak in private and in public to the Queen in such a way as seemed to me to be truth, the truth in God’s sight; that which I believe she needed, though I felt it would be very trying to her spirit to receive it. And what fills me with deepest thanksgiving is that she has received it, and written to me such a kind, tender letter of thanks for it.”[140] Writing in his Journal on the 14th of May, Dr. Macleod jotted down, whilst the facts were fresh in his mind, the chief incidents of his visit to the Queen at this painful period of her life. “After dinner,” he says, “I was summoned unexpectedly to the Queen’s room. She was alone. She met me, and, with an unutterably sad expression, which filled my eyes with tears, at once began to speak about the Prince. It is impossible for me to recall distinctly the sequence or substance of that long conversation. She spoke of his excellences—his love, his cheerfulness, how he was everything to her. She said she never shut her eyes to trials, but liked to look them in the face; how she would never shrink from duty, but that all was at present done mechanically: that her highest ideas of purity and love were obtained from him, and that God could not be displeased with her love. But there was nothing morbid in her grief. I spoke freely to her about all I felt regarding him—the love of the nation and their sympathy; and took every opportunity of bringing before her the reality of God’s love and sympathy, her noble calling as a Queen, the value of her life to the nation, the blessedness of prayer.”

“Sunday: the whole household, Queen and Royal Family, were assembled at 10.15. A temporary pulpit was erected. I began with a short prayer, then read Job xxiii., Psalm xlii., beginning and end of John xiv., and end of Revelation vii. After the Lord’s Prayer I expounded Hebrews xii. 1-12, and concluded with prayer. The whole Service was less than an hour. I then, at 12, preached at Crathie[141] on ‘All things are ours.’ In the evening at Crathie on ‘Awake, thou that sleepest.’ The household attended both Services.”

“On Monday I had another long interview with the Queen. She was much more like her old self—cheerful—and full of talk about persons and things. She, of course, spoke of the Prince. She said that he always believed he was to die soon, and that he often told her that he had never any fear of death. I also saw the Princesses Alice and Helen—each by herself. No words of mine can express the deep sympathy I have for all these mourners.... The more I hear about the Prince Consort, the more I agree with what the Queen said to me about him on Monday, ‘that he really did not seem to comprehend a selfish character or what selfishness was.’”[142]