CHAPTER VI

.

THE MARRIAGE OF THE PRINCE OF WALES.

England in 1863--The Prince of Wales Summoned as a Peer of Parliament--His Introduction to the House of Lords--Cession of the Ionian Islands to Greece--Mr. Disraeli’s Policy--The Prince of Wales’s Income--The Dowry of the Princess--Approaching Marriage of the Prince of Wales--The Voyage of the “Sea-King’s Daughter”--Reception of the Princess Alexandra at Gravesend--Her Entry into London--The Scene in the City--The West End _en fête_--Loyalty of Clubland--Accident to the Royal Party at Slough--The High Churchmen and the Queen--Objections to a Royal Marriage in Lent--The Dispensing Power of the Primate--A Visit to Frogmore--The Queen at the Prince of Wales’s Marriage--The Scene in St. George’s Chapel--The Wedding Presents--The Ceremony--The Wedding Guests hustled by Roughs--Riots in Ireland--Illuminated London--Foreign Policy--The Polish Question--The Russian Rebuff to Lord Palmerston--Napoleon III. Proposes a Congress of Sovereigns--Lord Russell Condemns the Proposal--The Death-Knell of the Anglo-French Alliance--France and Mexico and the Archduke Maximilian.

But for the controversy that was waged in the Press over the Civil War in America, and the sufferings of Lancashire, where the people were lying under the blight of the Cotton Famine, the year 1863 would have presented a record of unruffled calm. The classes and the masses still wrangled over the rights and wrongs of the Southern States; but the leaders of political parties, adhering to the policy of neutrality, discouraged all projects for interfering between the belligerents. The organs of public opinion in the Northern States bitterly condemned England because her aristocracy displayed strong Southern sympathies. The organs of public opinion in the Southern States reviled the English Government because Lord Russell refused to join the Emperor of the French in recognising the Southern Confederacy. For some mysterious reason France, whose policy was thus absolutely hostile to the Federal Government, was not only popular in the South but in the North. Both belligerents were, however, surprised to find that events falsified the anticipations which they had based on the effect of the Cotton Famine. So far from forcing England to interfere in the struggle, the destruction of her cotton industry was seen to produce local suffering rather than national disaster. The foundations of British trade, in fact, had, by the fiscal policy of Sir Robert Peel and Mr. Gladstone, been laid so broad and so deep, that the nation easily withstood the shock from the ruin of its most productive branch of manufacture. Losses in the cotton trade were more than balanced by increased gains in other forms of commercial enterprise, and on New Year’s Day the revenue had increased so unexpectedly, that Mr. Gladstone not only began to dream of surpluses, but was busy hatching projects for a fresh reduction of taxation. Indeed, the lavish subscriptions to the fund for relieving distress in the cotton districts indicated how little the Cotton Famine had affected the aggregate amount of disposable wealth in the country. By the end of January this princely fund had reached three-quarters of a million sterling--a sum which did not, of course, represent the unestimated contributions of manufacturers who, like Mr. John Bright, ran their mills on short time at a loss, rather than turn their workpeople into the streets.

Parliament was opened by Commission on the 8th of February--the first paragraph in the Queen’s Speech announcing the approaching marriage of the Prince of Wales to the Princess Alexandra. The offer of the Crown of Greece to Prince Alfred was alluded to, and the continuance of the Civil War in America, with its attendant Cotton Famine in Lancashire, deplored. But as to legislation, the Royal Speech said nothing definite. All promises were conveyed in Lord Palmerston’s stereotyped formula, that “various measures of public usefulness and improvement” would be submitted for the consideration of Parliament. The debates on the Address attracted less popular interest than the ceremonial proceedings of the House of Lords, when, on the first day of the Session, the Prince of Wales took his seat in that august Assembly. The scene on that occasion was a memorable one. In the side galleries near the Throne the Duchess of Cambridge, the Princess Mary of Cambridge, and a brilliant array of Peeresses had secured places. The Foreign Ambassadors and Ministers and Members of the House of Commons were also well represented. After the Royal Speech was read the Commissioners retired, and at about a quarter to four the Lord Chancellor, in his ordinary black silk robe, wig, and three-cornered hat, entered the House, preceded by the Great Seal, and seated himself on the woolsack. The Bishop of Worcester having read the prayers, a brilliant procession of Peers was then seen defiling from the Prince’s Chamber, and it marched with slow and stately formality up the floor of the House, led by Sir Augustus Clifford, Usher of the Black Rod, who was followed by Sir Charles Young, arrayed in the robes of the Garter-King-at-Arms. He was followed by an equerry carrying the coronet of the Prince of Wales on a gorgeously embroidered cushion. Then came the Prince himself, wearing the scarlet and ermine robes of a Duke over a general officer’s uniform, and decorated with the insignia of the Garter, the Golden Fleece, and the Star of India. Accompanying him were the Dukes of Cambridge and Argyll, the Earls of Derby and Granville, Earl Spencer and Lord Kingsdown, Lord Willoughby d’Eresby, Hereditary Grand Chamberlain, and Lord Edmund Howard, representing the infant Duke of Norfolk, as Hereditary Grand Marshal. As the procession entered the House, the Peers rose and remained standing during the ceremony--the Lord Chancellor alone retaining his seat, and wearing his cocked hat. The Prince bowed, and advancing to the woolsack, delivered his patent of nobility and writ of summons to the Lord Chancellor. He then returned to the table where Sir J. Shaw-Lefevre, Clerk of the Parliaments, administered the oath to him, as Duke of Cornwall and Rothesay, Earl of Chester and Carrick, and Lord of the Isles. Having signed the roll, the procession passed round behind the woolsack, till the Prince reached the right-hand side of the Throne, where he took his seat formally on the Chair of State reserved for the Heir-Apparent to the Crown. As he seated himself he placed his hat on his head. Then uncovering he rose, advanced to the woolsack, and shook hands with the Lord Chancellor, who very slightly raised his hat as he went through the formal salutation. The procession then left the House, and business was suspended till five o’clock, when the Prince reappeared in ordinary walking-dress, with the Duke of Cambridge, beside whom he sat on one of the cross-benches throughout the debate on the Address.

In both Houses the Government was attacked, mainly on account of its foreign policy. The Tories pretended to see in the proposed cession of the Ionian Islands to Greece the premonitory sign of the fall of the British Empire. Their argument turned on a strange misconception, not only of the arrangements made at Vienna in 1815, but of the Queen’s prerogative. The Ionian Islands were never British territory. They formed an independent Republic, placed by the European Powers under the protection of England.[147] But the primary aim of that protectorate was to foster the spirit of Greek nationality, and not to give Corfu to England as a place of arms. When the Ionians therefore desired annexation to Greece, and Greece was able to protect them, England would have been false to the trust she undertook in 1815, if she had maintained her protectorate by force. Earl Grey clearly proved that it was quite within the prerogative of the Queen to cede a protectorate without consulting Parliament. In fact, as the magnificent island of Java, which was a possession and not a protectorate, was given to the Dutch without Parliament being consulted on the subject, it is difficult to understand why the Opposition raised the question of prerogative in this instance. Mr. Disraeli’s complaints that certain Ministers--of whom Mr. Gladstone was one--had made speeches during the recess indicating a

[Illustration: THE VANDYKE ROOM, WINDSOR CASTLE.]

desire to recognise the Confederate Government in the United States, were more difficult to meet. These speeches compromised the policy of strict neutrality which had been accepted by the Cabinet, and on that account they had caused considerable annoyance to the Queen. The absence of legislative proposals from the Royal Speech naturally gave Lord Derby a cue for some gibes, which, however, did not in the least affect Lord Palmerston’s peace of mind. The position of the Tories at this time was frankly avowed by Mr. Disraeli in a conversation with Count Vitzthum just before Parliament met. “I have not, indeed,” said Mr. Disraeli, “yet settled with my friends our plans for the coming Parliamentary campaign; but I think I can tell you at once that there will be no serious fighting. Something, of course, may turn up, but at present there seems to be nothing that could force us to quit our waiting attitude. We shall not form a weak Ministry a third time. We can wait, and shall upset nothing. If we take the helm again, we shall do so with the prospect of a longer and safer tenure. Whether this will happen or not before Lord Palmerston dies I don’t know; for the present, at any rate, the old man need fear no serious attack from us.” The change in strategy here is obvious. In 1862 the policy of the Opposition was adopted in deference to the general feeling that the Queen should, during the first days of her widowhood, be spared the anxiety of party conflicts, which possibly involved Ministerial crises. In 1863 the Tories adopted the policy of patriotically supporting Lord Palmerston’s Ministry simply because they were themselves unable to form a strong Cabinet, and Mr. Disraeli had determined that they must not “form a weak Ministry a third time.”[148]

But an event was approaching which diverted the minds of the nation from politics, namely, the marriage of the Prince of Wales, which it was now known would take place before Easter. The object of one of the first proposals laid before Parliament was to make an adequate provision for the future establishment of the Heir-Apparent. A message from the Queen to both Houses on the subject evoked a loyal congratulatory Address, and Palmerston himself moved the formal resolutions called for by the occasion in the House of Commons. He said that the Government considered that £100,000 a year would be a fair income to allow the Heir-Apparent, and, as he derived £60,000 a year from the revenues of the Duchy of Cornwall, the House would be asked to vote only £40,000 a year out of the Consolidated Fund. For the Princess of Wales, it was proposed that a separate allowance of £10,000 a year should be sanctioned, and, further, that in the event of her surviving her husband, a jointure of £30,000 should be secured to her. No objection could be fairly made to an arrangement which was at once moderate and business-like. Indeed, the Radicals were agreeably surprised to find that Parliament was not called on to vote anything approaching the enormous sum which was sanctioned by the precedent of 1795.[149] As for the domestic arrangements relating to the marriage, they were proceeding apace, and the nation was pleased to know that the Queen was able to participate in them with ever-quickening interest.

It has been said already that during the visit of the Queen to Brussels in the autumn of 1862, the preliminaries of this marriage had been arranged, and in November the Princess Alexandra had paid a brief visit to the Queen at Osborne, where her winsome manners charmed all hearts. In February, 1863, the King of Denmark and his subjects alike testified their approval of her marriage by bestowing on her many valuable gifts. On the 26th the Princess left Copenhagen with the good wishes of all classes sounding in her ears. The day was kept as a public holiday, and the crowded streets from the palace to the railway station were gay with festal flags and garlands. From the windows of the houses the Princess, who was escorted by her eldest brother, Prince Frederick, was pelted with bouquets of flowers, and at the station she was met by all the high functionaries of State, who took leave of her in formal farewell addresses for which her father, Prince Christian of Sleswig-Holstein-Glücksburg, Heir-Presumptive to the Danish throne, returned thanks. The Royal party travelling by Kiel, Hamburg, Hanover, and Coblentz, reached Brussels on the 2nd of March, where they were received by the Duchess of Brabant, the Count de Flandres, and the English and Danish Ambassadors. On the 5th they left for Antwerp, where they embarked on board the _Victoria and Albert_ yacht and sailed for Flushing, where Rear-Admiral Smart’s squadron of escort was waiting for them. At eight in the evening the Royal yacht, which had passed Flushing, was sighted by the two chief vessels of the escort. Royal salutes from each awoke the echoes of the deep, yards were manned, and rockets went hissing up into the air, falling round the Royal yacht in a sparkling shower of stars. Without stopping for a moment, the bridal party and their convoy sped on through the darkness, gliding over the glassy surface of what might have been a summer sea. Before midnight the _Victoria and Albert_ had anchored in Margate Roads. At eight o’clock in the morning of the 6th the _Revenge_ and the _Warrior_ were dressed with flags, and again a royal salute thundered over the waves. Admiral Smart, by hurrying at racing speed across the North Sea, had earned the gratitude of the Princess and her companions, for soon after the bridal party entered English waters the German Ocean was swept by south-westerly gales. At four o’clock in the afternoon the squadron was sighted from Sheerness, whereupon the ships at the Nore manned their yards and saluted. Bonfires blazed along the beach. The word “Welcome” in letters ten feet high gleamed in the radiance of blue lights, and a long line of torches glimmered along the sea-wall. Next morning the Royal yacht, escorted by the _Warrior_, steamed up the Thames, arriving at Gravesend at noon. Here the Prince of Wales met his bride, and they landed amidst Royal salutes from the warships. The Mayoress presented the Princess with a bouquet. The Mayor and municipal dignitaries presented loyal addresses, but the prettiest part of the ceremony was the procession from the landing-place to the Royal carriage. A band of young ladies dressed in white--wearing red burnous cloaks and straw hats decked with wreaths of oak-leaves--tripped gaily along in advance of the Princess, strewing her path with flowers. At the railway station the party was greeted by crowds whose cheers betokened their desire to welcome the “Sea-King’s daughter.” When the Royal train reached London it stopped at the Bricklayers’ Arms Station, which was gay with crimson drapery, and here a boudoir and ante-chamber for the travellers had been fitted up. Among the brilliant crowd of about 700 privileged persons who were admitted to the station were the Duke of Cambridge, the Prince of Prussia, the Duke of Saxe-Coburg, the Count de Flandres, Sir George Grey, the Lord Mayor and Sheriffs of London, Sir Richard Mayne, Chief Commissioner of Police, Mr. Layard, and others. Here the Royal party partook of luncheon, received some congratulatory addresses, and left the station at five minutes past two o’clock.

There was some fear lest the entry of the Princess into the capital would not be an unalloyed triumph. The officials of the Court had contrived to irritate the populace by several of their arrangements. The people were at first annoyed because they had been told the procession was to pass through the metropolis at a smart trot. Then the municipal dignitaries were greatly affronted because in the original plan they were to have no part in the procession. The reason given for this prohibition was that the Lord Mayor would necessarily have headed the pageant, but inasmuch as his unwieldy State coach must proceed at walking pace, his presence would have prevented the Royal carriages passing along at high speed. But when the Corporation met and expressed their anger at this interference with their prerogative, the Court officials yielded, and so it was arranged that the Lord Mayor and his train should head the procession as far as Temple Bar. But the moment the Princess appeared, her grace, her beauty, her charming simplicity of manners, carried all hearts by storm, and London was quite delirious with joyful excitement when she came on the scene. As the _cortège_ left the station it was headed by the Lord Mayor and Sheriffs, and by the High Bailiff of Southwark, escorted by Horse Guards. Loyal crowds lined the _route_, which was decked with flags and triumphal arches. The officials of Southwark left the procession at London Bridge, which had been decorated in the most lavish manner by the Corporation. Venetian masts, surmounted by the Danish arms, medallions of the Danish Kings, tripods of incense, and banners innumerable were seen on all sides. Near Fishmongers’ Hall, a huge triumphal arch, seventy feet high, spanned the roadway. It was a gorgeous but somewhat confused mass of allegory and symbolism, bearing statues of Saxo Grammaticus, Holberg, Thorwaldsen, and Juel; a group of horses in plaster crowning the whole structure. As for the centrepiece, it was a fearful and wonderful work of art, blazoned with gold and flaunting colours. Britannia, surrounded by all the Pagan gods and goddesses; a portrait of the Queen in widow’s weeds; banners and heraldic devices and armorial escutcheons, all combined to make this structure unforgettable. In the City, it must be allowed, the local authorities rivalled the Court officials in their capacity for mismanagement. They refused all offers of assistance from the Horse Guards and the Home Office. Neither the Duke of Cambridge’s Cavalry nor Sir Richard Mayne’s Police were permitted to keep the crowds in order--that duty being entrusted to the City Police, the Honourable Artillery Company, and some Volunteers. Hence the streets were blocked up, and, according to Lord Malmesbury,[150] “if it had not been for the good temper of the people some terrible catastrophe must have occurred.” At the Mansion House a brilliant group of ladies, of whom the Lady Mayoress was the central figure, was waiting in the portico to welcome the Princess. Here the procession paused, and a bouquet was presented to her Royal Highness. But whilst this ceremony was going on, the authorities lost control of the crowd, and dense masses began to press on the Royal carriages with such persistency, that the Danish dignitaries in the train of the Princess were thrown into a panic, which was, however, allayed by the presence of mind of the Prince of Wales. The procession then drove on to Temple Bar, which was transformed into a grand triumphal arch, crowned with a tent of cloth of gold. At the corners smoking tripods sent up clouds of incense. Here the Civic dignitaries left the _cortège_, which was then headed by the High Steward of Westminster and other officials, who fell out at Hyde Park.

[Illustration: ENTRY OF THE PRINCESS ALEXANDRA INTO LONDON: THE PROCESSION PASSING TEMPLE BAR.]

Clubland was in gala array, and the Princess seemed quite interested when Marlborough House was pointed out to her by the Prince as her future home. On the balcony at Cambridge House in Piccadilly Lord and Lady Palmerston were the most conspicuous figures in a group of aristocratic sightseers, and were honoured with gracious salutes from the Royal party. But of all the houses in Piccadilly that of Lord Willoughby d’Eresby was the most florid in its decoration. It was decked with evergreens, flags of all nations, and numberless banners. The wall space under the drawing-room windows was draped with white and gold, and with blue hangings studded with golden stars. “We went,” writes Lord Malmesbury, in his Diary, “to Lord Willoughby’s house at a quarter before one to see the entry of the Princess. The houses along Piccadilly were decorated, with few exceptions, but I saw nothing really pretty except Lord Willoughby’s and Lord Cadogan’s. There were a good many people in the drawing-room. It was the coldest day we have had for a long time, no sun, with occasional showers, and we were half frozen standing on the balconies. The Duke of Cambridge rode by two or three times with his staff, and was greatly cheered. Lord Ranelagh passed at the head of his brigade of Volunteers. Then appeared the Royal carriages; and I was never more surprised or disappointed. The first five contained the suite and brothers and sisters of the Princess Alexandra; the carriages looked old and shabby, and the horses very poor, with no trappings, not even rosettes, and no outriders. In short, the shabbiness of the whole _cortège_ was beyond anything one could imagine, everybody asking ‘Where is the Master of the Horse?’ The Princess kept bowing right and left very gracefully. The moment the procession had passed the crowds dispersed, but there were universal remarks and compliments on the Princess’s beauty.”[151] Through a double line of seventeen thousand Volunteers the procession drove to Paddington Station, and there the Royal Party took the train for Slough, where they were received by the Princes of Prussia and Hesse, and Princes Arthur and Leopold. Night was now closing in, and rain fell fast. To add to the discomforts of the travellers, the horses of the first carriage became restive. The leaders of the second turned right round on the wheelers, and great confusion prevailed. All the harness became entangled. “Altogether,” writes Lord Malmesbury, “everything done by the Court authorities was bad.” It was past ten o’clock when Eton was reached, the boys of the College cheering the Princess vociferously, after which the _cortège_ was met and welcomed at the triumphal arch at Windsor by the municipal authorities. The shouts of the people and the loyal and royal town rang in the ears of the Princess as she drove into the Castle. Here she was received by the Queen and the Princesses Louise and Beatrice, who had been waiting anxiously for her coming.

Next morning (Sunday) the Queen, her family, and her guests attended service in the private chapel, where the Bishop of Oxford preached from the text “Rejoice with them that do rejoice, and weep with them that weep.” Wilberforce had to handle his theme with great delicacy and tact, because the Queen had been sadly annoyed by the carping criticism of some zealots of the High Church Party. They had taken offence because her Majesty had permitted her son to be married in Lent, and they even threatened to absent themselves from all the national festivities that were to mark the event. The Queen had invoked Wilberforce’s aid in pacifying these persons, and in a letter to the Bishop of Salisbury he writes as follows:--“I am _very_ sorry for the time of the marriage, but everything possible has been done to get it changed, and in vain. I _think_ the best thing now possible would be for the Archbishop to write a letter saying that for high State reasons, that time having been thought necessary, he, as Archbishop, thinks it his duty to express that he, so far as it is lawful for him to do so, dispenses for that day with the Church’s ordinary rule, or add that all may, without scruple, legally devote it to rejoicing.”[152] This advice, however, was not acted on. But Wilberforce issued a letter to each of his Archdeacons for the guidance of the clergy in his diocese, in which he said that “any rejoicing, to be real, must be on the day of the marriage.” He held that the Archbishop’s Episcopal authority gave him the right to abrogate the Lenten Fast for such an occasion, and he added that from communications he had received he considered “that the Primate had exercised his dispensing power.”[153] Wilberforce’s sermon, however, pleased and impressed his illustrious audience. In his “Diary,” and in that of Dr. Macleod, some interesting facts of the Queen’s life at this period are disclosed. After referring to the sermon on the 8th of March, Wilberforce writes: “Saw the Queen in the afternoon, and had much talk with her; always the Prince--expecting him in old places. Large dinner; after, presented to the Princess Alexandra; she very pleasing--such a countenance, mien, demeanour, and conversation!” Some days previously Dr. Macleod had visited her Majesty at Windsor, and she took him, with Lady Augusta Bruce and the Princess Alice, to the Mausoleum at Frogmore. “She (the Queen),” writes Dr. Macleod, “had the key, and opened it herself, undoing the bolts, and alone we entered and stood in silence beside Marochetti’s beautiful statue of the Prince. I was very much overcome. She was calm and quiet.... I had a private interview at night with the Queen. She is so true, so genuine, I wonder not at her sorrow. To me it is quite natural, and has not a bit of morbid feeling in it. It but expresses the greatest loss that a Sovereign and wife could sustain.”[154] The bridal festivities of the Princess were overcast to some extent by the cloud of melancholy which had settled on the Queen’s heart.

But there was no lack of joyous display on the part of the public. On Monday, the 9th of March, the Lord Mayor of London and several members of the Corporation brought their wedding gift to the Princess--a diamond necklace

[Illustration: THE PRINCESS OF WALES.

(_From a Photograph taken about the time of her Marriage._)]

and earrings worth £10,000. The Princess spent the day in driving about the neighbourhood of Windsor, and in the evening there was a splendid State banquet in St. George’s Hall, followed by a party and a magnificent show of fireworks in the Home Park. On the 10th the marriage took place in the Chapel Royal at Windsor, in the presence of a brilliant assembly, the Queen--shrouded in the deepest mourning--taking no part in the ceremony, which she watched with tearful eyes from the Royal closet. Shortly before noon the Archbishop of Canterbury, the assisting bishops and clergy, entered the Chapel--the prelates walking to the altar, the Archbishop to the north side, and the Dean of Windsor to the south. The Chapel was one mass of gorgeous colour, softened in tone by the rich light that streamed through the painted window of the choir. Massive sacramental plate of gold and silver, superb golden candlesticks,

[Illustration: MARLBOROUGH HOUSE, FROM THE GARDEN.]

alms-dishes, quaint and curiously-wrought chalices and patens, were heaped in a glittering pile on the altar. The reredos, hung with rich crimson velvet curtains, with its fine panels of Christ and the Woman of Samaria, the Ascension, and the Institution of the Holy Communion, shone with the virgin purity of white alabaster. Time and space would fail to catalogue the dazzling array of Royal and Princely guests, of Ambassadors and Ministers of State, whose resplendent uniforms and sparkling decorations almost fatigued the spectator’s eye. The Princess Alexandra was clad in rich white satin robes, trimmed with Honiton lace and orange blossoms. Her necklace, earrings, and brooch of pearls and diamonds were a gift from the Prince of Wales; her rivière of diamonds was the gift of the Corporation of the City of London. On her wrists shone three bracelets--two being of opals and diamonds, one of which was given to her by the Queen, the other by the ladies of Manchester, whilst the third, of diamonds, was the gift of the ladies of Leeds. Her bouquet was a magnificent collection of orange blossoms, white rosebuds, lilies of the valley, and costly orchids, made up at Osborne in accordance with the Queen’s directions, and throughout, the mass of floral bloom was relieved by sprigs of the myrtle which had served for the bridal bouquet of the Princess Royal. The design of the four great flounces of Honiton lace on her robe was a sequence of cornucopiæ filled with roses, shamrocks, and thistles, arranged in festoons and interspersed with these national emblems.[155] As for the Prince of Wales, he wore a General’s uniform, with the mantle of the Garter, the gold collar and jewel of that Order, and the decorations of the Golden Fleece and the Star of India. His chief supporters were the Crown Prince of Prussia, and the Duke of Saxe-Coburg-and-Gotha. The Princess was led in by her father, Prince Christian of Denmark, and the Duke of Cambridge, and her bridesmaids were eight unmarried daughters of Dukes, Marquises, and Earls, namely, Lady Victoria Scott, Lady Diana Beauclerk, Lady Elina Bruce, Lady Victoria Howard, Lady Emily Villiers, Lady Agneta Yorke, Lady Feodore Wellesley, and Lady Eleanor Hare. As the procession reached the altar, the band and organ performed Handel’s march from _Joseph_. The choir next sang one of the late Prince Consort’s chorales--Jenny Lind’s sweet birdlike notes ringing high above all other voices. The Archbishop then read the service, and when the ring was placed on the finger of the Princess, distant guns thundered forth a salute, and the bells of Windsor rang out a peal of joy. After the benediction the Psalm was chanted with great solemnity, and the united processions of the bride and bridegroom left the Chapel, the choir singing Beethoven’s Hallelujah Chorus from the _Mount of Olives_. At the Grand Entrance to Windsor Castle the bride and bridegroom and their train were received by the Queen, whose features bore traces of deep emotion, and were by her conducted to the Green Drawing Room and White Room, where the marriage was attested in due form by the Royal guests, the ecclesiastical dignitaries, the Ministers of the Crown, and M. de Bille, the Danish Minister. Breakfast was served in the Dining Room to the Royal guests, and in St. George’s Hall to the company present at the ceremony, upwards of four hundred in number. The wedding cake on the table at St. George’s Hall is said to have weighed eighty pounds. At four in the afternoon the Prince and Princess of Wales left for Osborne, amidst hearty cheers from loyal crowds, who greeted them as they drove along to the station.

Dr. Norman Macleod, describing the ceremony, says in his Diary, “Two things struck me much. One was the whole of the Royal Princesses weeping, though concealing their tears with their bouquets, as they saw their brother, who was to them but their ‘Bertie’ and their dear father’s son, standing alone, waiting for the bride. The other was the Queen’s expression as she raised her eyes to heaven, while her husband’s chorale was sung. She seemed to be with him before the throne of God.” The Bishop of Oxford, in a letter to Sir Charles Anderson, gives a less pathetic description of the scene. He writes:--“The ceremony was certainly the most moving sight I ever saw. The Queen, above all, looking down, added a wonderful chord of deep feeling to all the lighter notes of joyfulness and show. Every one behaved quite at their best. The

[Illustration: MARRIAGE OF THE PRINCE OF WALES.]

Princess of Wales calm, feeling, self-possessed. The Prince with more depth of manner than ever before. Princess Mary’s entrance was grand. The little Prince William of Prussia, between his two little uncles[156] to keep him quiet, both of whom--the Crown Princess told me--he bit on the bare Highland legs whenever they touched him to keep him quiet.”[157] There was, however, one jarring incident in the proceedings which irritated the Queen not a little, and to which reference is made by Lord Malmesbury and Count Vitzthum. Lord Malmesbury says in his Diary, “Nothing could exceed the splendour of the scene in St. George’s Chapel. The foreigners were all much struck with it; it was so grand as to be overpowering. Mr. Paget confirmed all I had heard of the confusion on the departure of the special train for London. The Duchess of Westminster, who had on half a million’s worth of diamonds, could only find place in a third class carriage, and Lady Palmerston was equally unfortunate. Count Livradio had his diamond star torn off and stolen by the roughs.” Count Vitzthum writes, “The confusion at the railway station when the special train was leaving was incomprehensible. We men were in full uniform, and the unfortunate ladies in full Court attire and covered with jewellery. It had never occurred to the police to close the entrances to the platform, and the returning guests were hemmed in by a noisy and disorderly crowd.”[158]

In every part of the kingdom the 10th of March was kept as a national holiday. London and all the great cities were brilliantly illuminated--in fact, it was only in Ireland that the event was not marked by universal manifestations of popular loyalty. There was some rioting in Dublin and Cork; indeed, in the latter city, troops had to be called out to restore order. The appearance of Edinburgh on the evening of the 10th was particularly memorable, the “grey metropolis of the North” naturally lending itself to effective illumination. After a brief honeymoon at Osborne, the Prince and Princess of Wales returned to London. But Lord Malmesbury, who describes their entry to St. James’s Palace, says, the scene struck him “as very melancholy, when one considered the cause of the Queen’s absence.” A few days afterwards, he was invited to Windsor Castle. “The Queen,” he writes, “was quite calm and even cheerful, and looks well, but she complains of not feeling strong, and being unable to stand much.”

So far as the Queen was able to take an active interest in the management of the Foreign policy of the country, the only questions to which she paid close attention were those relating to Poland and the Duchy of Sleswig-Holstein. For two years rebellious agitators had disturbed Poland, and at last the Russian Government, in a moment of irritation, resolved to seize the youth of the upper and middle classes, who represented the discontented sections of the people, and drive them into the Imperial Army as conscripts. The rigour with which this measure was enforced roused a great deal of popular sympathy in England on behalf of the Poles, and strong pressure was put on the Government by the Tories, by some Radicals like Mr. Stansfeld, who were friendly to Continental revolutionary movements, and even by a large section of the Evangelical party, led by Lord Shaftesbury, to interfere on behalf of the Polish insurgents. For in February, 1863, the Committee of the Polish National Insurrection had issued its first proclamation, after which, Mieroslavski raised the standard of revolt on the Posen frontier. A pamphlet, called “Napoleon III. et la Pologne,” had been published in Paris, under the auspices of the French Emperor, and it not only created a sensation on the Continent, but it roused the suspicions of the Queen. Palmerston’s personal sympathies were naturally with the Poles. But, on the other hand, the Queen could not forget that the restoration of Poland was one of the many devices which the Emperor of the French had in reserve for upsetting the Treaties of 1815, in order to give him a pretext for seizing the left bank of the Rhine. It was not, therefore, from any sympathy for the Czar’s autocratic policy of repression that the English Court was averse from encouraging the Polish insurrection, or that the King of Prussia and his Minister, Herr Von Bismarck, actively aided Russia in coercing the Poles by massing troops along the frontier of Posen, and delivering up Polish fugitives who fled to Prussian territory. The Courts of Berlin and St. James’s alike dreaded a general European war--and to that issue the Queen honestly believed a policy of intervention must tend. For a time Lord Palmerston’s Ministry tossed about aimlessly in a vortex of embarrassments. They were afraid to develop a policy of intervention, lest it might encourage an outbreak of anti-Russian opinion in England, and drive them into a war, with Napoleon III. as a self-interested ally. They were equally afraid that a policy of cold neutrality might be resented by the populace, whose sympathies were being roused daily on behalf of Poland. At last they sent a secret agent--Mr. Lawrence Oliphant--to Poland, to discover the real character of the revolutionary movement. His report was very discouraging to Lord Palmerston, but it strengthened the hands of the Queen. Mr. Oliphant found that the conscription enforced by Russia was really an act of precaution against an insurrection which had been carefully planned in secret, and was ordered and guided by a Central Committee of Social Democrats in London. The movement was not, therefore, a national one in its origin, though resistance to the conscription had drawn a large body of the nobles and the middle classes into the ranks of the insurgents. In order to free themselves from the dictation of the Socialists, they had made Langiewicz Dictator; but after a time he left them and fled to Austria. The Committee of Insurrection, which was then formed, had nothing to do with the Socialist Committee in London, and it was fighting, not for Constitutional reform under the Czar, but for the restoration of the Polish

[Illustration: CORRIDOR, OSBORNE HOUSE.

(_After a Photograph by J. Valentine and Sons, Dundee._)]

Kingdom of 1772, an object of which England, as a party to the Treaties of 1815, could hardly approve. The insurgents had no military organisation or competent leaders, and they were carrying on guerilla warfare with the tenacity of despair.[159] As for the peasants, they had no reason to love their old tyrants, the nobles. For them the Government of the Czar was a lesser evil than the _régime_ of 1772, and so they held aloof.[160] Still, some steps had to be taken to satisfy public opinion and ward off attacks in Parliament. Ministers accordingly decided to remonstrate gently with Russia--the excuse being that the Treaties of 1815 gave England a moral right of interference between Russia and Poland. The policy of France, on the other hand, was interference, not on the basis of the Treaties of 1815, which, the Emperor declared in his Speech to the Chambers, were dead, but in the interests of humanity outraged at the excesses which Poles and Russians were alike committing. Austria, on the other hand, considered that she could only approach Russia as a neighbouring Power, like Prussia, possessing Polish subjects, whose institutions might with advantage be imitated in Russian Poland. The attitude of Prussia was that of declared friendliness to Russia.

Thus the Powers were grouped as before the Crimean War: England, France, and Austria in accord, but each with a different end to serve, and a different idea underlying their respective policies: Russia and Prussia, on the other hand, solidly in alliance. Ultimately, Lord Russell suggested on the 17th of June that Russia might submit the whole Polish Question to a Conference of the Eight Powers who had signed the Treaty of Vienna, on the basis of an understanding that there should be an amnesty, and an armistice, and that moderate constitutional reforms should be carried out in Poland. The weak point in the proposal was that Lord Palmerston and Lord Russell ignored the warning of their own secret agent to the effect that the Poles had no organised leadership. Russia was therefore able to ask ironically with whom did Lord Russell propose to negotiate an armistice? and how he did propose to guarantee obedience to it by migratory bands under guerilla chiefs? It was therefore the contention of Russia that surrender must precede any negotiations for peace, and that were it not for the hope of aid from France and England, the Poles would have long since ceased to resist. Russia, in a word, refused to accept the basis of negotiations. She offered, however, to discuss the affairs of Poland with Austria and Prussia--the other

## partitioning Powers--probably anticipating the refusal of Austria to

separate herself from England and France. Finally, she declined to accept any foreign interference whatever in her domestic affairs. Lord Palmerston and Lord Russell meekly submitted to this rebuff, and concurred with France and Austria in remonstrating with Russia, on the grave responsibility she incurred in haughtily rejecting their good offices.

The speech of the Emperor Napoleon at the opening of the French Chambers has already been referred to. The sentences alluding to the Treaties of 1815, and to the summoning of a European Congress, not only to settle the Polish Question, but other questions affecting nationalities struggling to be free, soon received a practical comment, for in Paris the Funds fell with startling rapidity. A few days after the speech was delivered the Emperor addressed a circular to the Powers which fully justified the warnings that the Queen had given to her Ministers, from the day the Polish Question was raised. Napoleon, in fact, invited the Sovereigns of Europe to meet in Congress and settle the affairs of the Continent, and the tone of the circular, combined with the veiled threat of war in his speech, really transformed the invitation into a summons. Italy and Prussia accepted the proposal, the former because she saw in it an opportunity for wresting Venice from Austria. As for Lord Russell, he met the project with a refusal couched in terms that stung the French Emperor to the quick. Writing on the 29th of November, Lord Malmesbury, in his “Diary,” says, “Mr. Seymour Fitzgerald arrived from Paris, where he says the refusal of our Government to attend the Congress proposed by Napoleon, and especially the rude tone of Lord Russell’s despatch, has created great irritation. The correspondence between the English and French Governments respecting the Congress is published in to-day’s papers. Lord Russell’s despatch is published in the _Gazette_, and I am not surprised that the French are angry; for not only is it very rude, but it was sent without the least delay, and published in the _Times_ before it was delivered to Drouyn de Lhuys.”[161] The despatches, however, merely reveal the customary combination of dogmatic argument with a supercilious affectation of infallibility, which gives a distinctive mark to all Lord Russell’s diplomatic correspondence. Napoleon, too, had laid himself open to a rebuff by not sounding England on his proposal, before he sprang it on the world. Count Vitzthum says that the despatch was approved at a meeting of the Cabinet on the 19th of November, after which it was submitted next day to the Queen at Windsor, who, according to Lord Russell’s statement to the Count, “had given her assent with pleasure to the refusal to take part in the Congress.”[162] Still Napoleon was not without his consolations. In Mexico Forey’s victories enabled the French to bring together a Mexican Assembly of their partisans, who recommended the establishment of a mimic Bonapartist Empire under the Archduke Maximilian. This unfortunate Prince consented to take the Crown, provided the Mexicans sanctioned his dynasty by a _plébiscite_.

Much more serious for the Queen was the rapid development of the Sleswig-Holstein Question, as to which her opinions were known in Society to be in undisguised conflict with those of her Ministers. The death of Frederick VII. and the succession of the father of the Princess of Wales to the Danish Crown rendered this question urgent.

##