One of the most distinguished women in literature during the Victorian Age was Harriet Martineau. At an early age it was evident that she was gifted beyond the ordinary, and at seven years old she had read Milton's "Paradise Lost" and learnt long portions of it by heart.

Her health was extremely poor; she suffered as a child from imaginary terrors which she describes in her Autobiography, and she gradually became deaf. She bore this affliction with the greatest courage and cheerfulness, but misfortunes followed one another in rapid succession. Her elder brother died of consumption, her father lost large sums of money in business, and the grief and anxiety so preyed upon his mind that he died, leaving his family very badly off.

This, and the loss later on of the little money they had left, only served to strengthen Miss Martineau's purpose. She studied and wrote until late in the night, and after her first success in literature, when she won all three prizes offered by the Unitarian body for an essay, she set to work on a series of stories which were to illustrate such subjects as the effect of machinery upon wages, free trade, etc.

After the manuscript had been refused by numerous publishers, she succeeded in getting it accepted, and the book proved an extraordinary success.

She moved to London, and her house soon became the centre where the best of literature and politics could always be discussed. She was consulted even by Cabinet Ministers, but in spite of all the praise and adulation she remained quite unspoiled.

The idea of women taking part in public movements was still not altogether pleasing to the majority of people, who were apt to look upon 'learned' women as 'Blue-stockings,' a name first used in England in the previous century in rather a contemptuous way.

Come, let us touch the string, And try a song to sing, Though this is somewhat difficult at starting, O! And in our case more than ever, When a desperate endeavour, Is made to sing the praise of Harry Martineau!

Of bacon, eggs, and butter, Rare philosophy she'll utter; Not a thing about your house but she'll take part in, O! As to mine, with all my soul, She might take (and pay) the whole— But that is all my eye and Harry Martineau!

Her political economy Is as true as Deuteronomy; And the monster of Distress she sticks a dart in, O! Yet still he stalks about, And makes a mighty rout, But that we hope's my eye and Harry Martineau!

In 1835 she visited the United States, and here she was able to study the question of slavery. She joined the body of the 'Abolitionists,' and as a result was attacked from all sides with the utmost fury, for the Northern States stood solid against abolition. But she remained unmoved in her opinion, and when in 1862 the great Civil War broke out, her writings were the means of educating public opinion. It was largely due to her that this country did not foolishly support the secession of the Southern States from the Union.

During a period of five years she was a complete invalid, and some of her best books, including her well-known stories for children, Feats on the Fiord and The Crofton Boys, were written in that time.

After her recovery her life was busier than ever. She wrote articles for the daily papers, but her chief pleasure lay in devising schemes for improving the lot of her poorer neighbours. She organized evening lectures for the people, and founded a Mechanics' Institute and a building society.

During her life-time she was the acknowledged leader on all moral questions, especially those which affected the lives of women.

"It has always been esteemed our special function as women," she said, "to mount guard over society and social life—the spring of national existence."



CHAPTER IX: Balmoral

It was in Balmoral Castle that the husband and wife most loved to be with their children. Here they could lead a simple life free from all restraints, "small house, small rooms, small establishment. . . . There are no soldiers, and the whole guard of the Sovereign consists of a single policeman, who walks about the grounds to keep off impertinent intruders and improper characters. . . . The Prince shoots every morning, returns to luncheon, and then they walk or drive. The Queen is running in and out of the house all day long, and often goes about alone, walks into the cottages, and chats with the old women."

The Queen loved her life here even more than the Prince, and every year she yearned for it more and more. "It is not alone the pure air, the quiet and beautiful scenery, which makes it so delightful," she wrote; "it is the atmosphere of loving affection, and the hearty attachment of the people around Balmoral which warms the heart and does one good."

It was during the year 1848 that the royal couple paid their first visit to Balmoral. The Queen had long wished to possess a home of her own in the Highlands where her husband could indulge in some outdoor sport, and where they both could enjoy a brief rest, from time to time, from the anxiety and care of State affairs.

Their life there during the years 1848-61 is described by the Queen in her diary, Leaves from the Journal of our Life in the Highlands. It was first published after the Prince's death and was dedicated to him in the words: "To the dear memory of him who made the life of the writer bright and happy, these simple records are lovingly and gratefully inscribed."

The first impressions were very favourable: "It is a pretty little castle in the old Scottish style. There is a picturesque tower and garden in front, with a high wooded hill; at the back there is wood down to the Dee; and the hills rise all around."

Their household was, naturally, a small one, consisting of the Queen's Maid of Honour, the Prince's valet, a cook, a footman, and two maids. Among the outdoor attendants was John Brown, who in 1858 was attached to the Queen as one of her regular attendants everywhere in the Highlands, and remained in her service until his death. "He has all the independence and elevated feelings peculiar to the Highland race, and is singularly straightforward, simple-minded, kind-hearted and disinterested; always ready to oblige; and of a discretion rarely to be met with."

The old castle soon proved to be too small for the family, and in September 1853 the foundation-stone of a new house was laid. After the ceremony the workmen were entertained at dinner, which was followed by Highland games and dancing in the ballroom.

Two years later they entered the new castle, which the Queen described as "charming; the rooms delightful; the furniture, papers, everything perfection."

The Prince was untiring in planning improvements, and in 1856 the Queen wrote: "Every year my heart becomes more fixed in this dear Paradise, and so much more so now, that all has become my dearest Albert's own creation, own work, own building, own laying out as at Osborne; and his great taste, and the impress of his dear hand, have been stamped everywhere. He was very busy today, settling and arranging many things for next year."

Visits to the cottages of the old people on the estate and in the neighbourhood were a constant source of delight and pleasure to the Queen, and often when the Prince was away for the day shooting, she would pay a round of calls, taking with her little presents. The old ladies especially loved a talk with their Queen. "The affection of these good people, who are so hearty and so happy to see you, taking interest in everything, is very touching and gratifying," she remarked upon them. "We were always in the habit of conversing with the Highlanders—with whom one comes so much in contact in the Highlands. The Prince highly appreciated the good breeding, simplicity, and intelligence, which make it so pleasant, and even instructive to talk to them."

In September 1855, soon after moving into the new castle, the news arrived of the fall of Sebastopol, and this was taken as an omen of good luck. The Prince and his suite sallied forth, followed by all the population, to the cairn above Balmoral, and here, amid general cheering, a large bonfire was lit. The pipes played wildly, the people danced and shouted, guns and squibs were fired off, and it was not until close upon midnight that the festivities came to an end.

During the same month the Princess Royal became engaged to Prince Frederick William of Prussia, who was then visiting Balmoral. Acting on the Queen's advice, Prince Frederick did not postpone his good fortune until a later date, as he had at first intended, but during a ride up Craig-na-Ban, he picked a piece of white heather (the emblem of 'good luck') and offered it to the young Princess, and this gave him an opportunity of declaring his love.

These extracts, printed from the Queen's Journals, were intended at first for presentation only to members of the Royal Family and Her Majesty's intimate friends, especially to those who had accompanied her during her tours. It was, however, suggested to the Queen that her people would take even as keen an interest in these simple records of family life, especially as they had already shown sincere and ready sympathy with her personal joys and sorrows.

"The book," its editor says, "is mainly confined to the natural expressions of a mind rejoicing in the beauties of nature, and throwing itself, with a delight rendered keener by the rarity of its opportunities, into the enjoyment of a life removed, for the moment, from the pressure of public cares."

It is of particular interest because here the Queen records from day to day her thoughts and her impressions in the simplest language; here she can be seen less as a queen than as a wife and mother. Her interest in her whole household and in all those immediately around her is evident on almost every page. To quote again: "She is, indeed, the Mother of her People, taking the deepest interest in all that concerns them, without respect of persons, from the highest to the lowest."

As a picture of the Royal Court in those days this is exceedingly valuable, for it shows what an example the Queen and her husband were setting to the whole nation in the simple life they led in their Highland home.

That the old people especially loved her can be seen from the greetings and blessings she received in the cottages she used to visit. "May the Lord attend ye with mirth and with joy; may He ever be with ye in this world, and when ye leave it."



The Queen was never weary of the beauties of the Highlands, and quotes the following lines from a poem by Arthur Hugh Clough to describe 'God's glorious works':

The gorgeous bright October, Then when brackens are changed, and heather blooms are faded, And amid russet of heather and fern, green trees are bonnie; Alders are green, and oaks; the rowan scarlet and yellow; One great glory of broad gold pieces appears the aspen, And the jewels of gold that were hung in the hair of the birch tree; Pendulous, here and there, her coronet, necklace, and earrings, Cover her now, o'er and o'er; she is weary and scatters them from her.

In the year 1883 the Queen published More Leaves from the Journal, and dedicated it "To my loyal Highlanders, and especially to the memory of my devoted personal attendant and faithful friend, John Brown." They are records of her life in Scotland during the years 1862 to 1882.

In the August of 1862 a huge cairn, thirty-five feet high, was erected to the memory of the Prince Consort. It was set on the summit of Craig Lowrigan, where it could be seen all down the valley.

A short extract will serve as a specimen of the Queen's style of writing:

"At a quarter to twelve I drove off with Louise and Leopold in the waggonette up to near the 'Bush' (the residence of William Brown, the farmer) to see them 'juice the sheep.' This is a practice pursued all over the Highlands before the sheep are sent down to the low country for the winter. It is done to preserve the wool. Not far from the burnside, where there are a few hillocks, was a pen in which the sheep were placed, and then, just outside it, a large sort of trough filled with liquid tobacco and soap, and into this the sheep were dipped one after the other; one man took the sheep one by one out of the pen and turned them on their backs; and then William and he, holding them by their legs, dipped them well in, after which they were let into another pen into which this trough opened, and here they had to remain to dry. To the left, a little lower down, was a cauldron boiling over a fire and containing the tobacco with water and soap; this was then emptied into a tub, from which it was transferred into the trough. A very rosy-faced lassie, with a plaid over her head, was superintending this part of the work, and helped to fetch the water from the burn, while children and many collie dogs were grouped about, and several men and shepherds were helping. It was a very curious and picturesque sight."



CHAPTER X: The Great Exhibition

The idea of a "great exhibition of the Works and Industries of all Nations" was Prince Albert's. The scheme when first proposed in 1849 was coldly received in this country. It was intended, to use the Prince's own words, "To give us a true test and a living picture of the point of development at which the whole of mankind has arrived in this great task, and a new starting-point from which all nations will be able to direct their further exertions."

The Times led the attack against the proposed site in Hyde Park, and the public was uneasy at the thought of large numbers of foreigners congregating in London, and at the expected importation of foreign goods.

As showing the absurd things which 'John Bull' could say at this time in his jealousy and dislike of foreigners the Prince wrote: "The strangers, they give out, are certain to commence a thorough revolution here, to murder Victoria and myself, and to proclaim the Red Republic in England; the Plague is certain to ensue from the confluence of such vast multitudes, and to swallow up those whom the increased price of everything has not already swept away. For all this I am to be responsible, and against all this I have to make efficient provision."

Punch pictured the young Prince begging, cap in hand, for subscriptions:

Pity the sorrows of a poor, young Prince Whose costly schemes have borne him to your door; Who's in a fix, the matter not to mince, Oh! help him out, and Commerce swell your store!

Such constant worry and anxiety affected the Prince's health, but the support of Sir Robert Peel and of many great firms gradually wore down the opposition.

The building was designed by Paxton, who had risen from being a gardener's boy in the Duke of Devonshire's service to the position of the greatest designer of landscape-gardening in the kingdom.

He took his main ideas for the Crystal Palace from the great conservatories at Kew and Chatsworth. It was like a huge greenhouse in shape, nearly one thousand feet long and ninety feet high, with fountains playing in the naves and a great elm-tree in full leaf under the roof.

On May 1, 1851, the opening day, everything went well. The crowds in the streets were immense, and there were some 34,000 visitors present in the building during the opening ceremony.

Lord Macaulay was much impressed with the Exhibition, for he wrote after the opening: "I was struck by the numbers of foreigners in the streets. All, however, were respectable and decent people. I saw none of the men of action with whom the Socialists were threatening us. . . . I should think there must have been near three hundred thousand people in Hyde Park at once. The sight among the green boughs was delightful. The boats, and little frigates, darting across the lake; the flags; the music; the guns;—everything was exhilarating, and the temper of the multitude the best possible. . . .

"I made my way into the building; a most gorgeous sight; vast; graceful; beyond the dreams of the Arabian romances. I cannot think that the Caesars ever exhibited a more splendid spectacle. I was quite dazzled, and I felt as I did on entering St Peter's. I wandered about, and elbowed my way through the crowd which filled the nave, admiring the general effect, but not attending much to details."

And again on the last day he wrote: "Alas! alas! it was a glorious sight; and it is associated in my mind with all whom I love most. I am glad that the building is to be removed. I have no wish to see the corpse when the life has departed."

The Royal Party were received with acclamation all along the route. "It was 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," wrote the Queen. Six million people visited the Great Fair during the time it remained open.

In one respect, however, it could scarcely be considered a triumph for this country. It was still an ugly, and in some respects a vulgar, age. The invention of machinery had done little or nothing to raise the level of the public taste for what was appropriate and beautiful in design. That an article cost a large sum of money to manufacture and to purchase seemed sufficient to satisfy the untrained mind.

Generally speaking, the taste of the producers was uneducated and much inferior to that of the French. Most of the designs in carpets, hangings, pottery, and silks were merely copies, and were often extremely ugly. England, at this time the first among the Industrial Nations, had utterly failed to hold her own in the Arts.

Machinery had taken the place of handwork, and with the death of the latter art and industry had ceased to have any relation. Public taste in architecture was equally bad. A 'revival' of the art of the Middle Ages resulted only in a host of poor imitations. "Thirty or forty years ago, if you entered a cathedral in France or England, you could say at once, 'These arches were built in the age of the Conqueror—that capital belonged to the earlier Henrys.' . . . Now all this is changed. You enter a cathedral, and admire some iron work so rude you are sure it must be old, but which your guide informs you has just been put up by Smith of Coventry. You see . . . some painted glass so badly drawn and so crudely coloured it must be old—Jones of Newcastle."[9]

[Footnote 9: Fergusson, History of Modern Styles of Architecture.]

John Ruskin, who was in many ways the greatest art teacher of his age, was the first to point out the value and the method of correct observation of all that is beautiful in nature and in art.

In an address on "Modern Manufacture and Design," delivered to the working men of Bradford, he declared: "Without observation and experience, no design—without peace and pleasurableness in occupation, no design—and all the lecturings, and teachings, and prizes and principles of art, in the world are of no use, so long as you don't surround your men with happy influences and beautiful things. . . . Inform their minds, refine their habits, and you form and refine their designs; but keep them illiterate, uncomfortable, and in the midst of unbeautiful things, and whatever they do will still be spurious, vulgar, and valueless."

At the time, however, the Exhibition proved a great success, and the Duke of Coburg carried most favourable impressions away with him. He says: "The Queen and her husband were at the zenith of their fame. . . . Prince Albert was not satisfied to guide the whole affair only from above; he was, in the fullest sense of the word, the soul of everything. Even his bitterest enemies, with unusual unreserve, acknowledged the completeness of the execution of the scheme."

So far from there being a loss upon the undertaking there was actually half a million of profit. The proceeds were devoted to securing ground at South Kensington upon which a great National Institute might be built. This undertaking (the purchase of the ground) was not carried through without great difficulty and anxiety. The Queen's sympathy and encouragement were, as always, of the greatest help to her husband, and he quoted a verse from a German song, to illustrate how much he felt and appreciated it:

When man has well nigh lost his hope in life, Upwards in trust and love still looks the wife, Towards the starry world all bright with cheer, Faint not nor fear, thus speaks her shining tear.

The Great Exhibition was sufficient proof—if any had been needed—of how the Prince with his wife laboured incessantly for the good of others. Without his courage, perseverance, and ability there is no doubt that this great undertaking would never have been carried through successfully. He recognized the fact that princes live for the benefit of their people; his desire for the improvement in all classes was never-ending, and from him his wife learnt many lessons which proved of the greatest value to her in later life when she stood alone and her husband was no longer there to aid her with his unfailing wise advice.

A second Exhibition was held in 1862, and so far as decorative art was concerned there were distinct signs of improvement. 'Art manufacture' had now become a trade phrase, but manufacturers were still far from understanding what 'Art' really meant. As an instance of this, one carpet firm sent a carpet to be used as a hanging on which Napoleon III is depicted presenting a treaty of Commerce to the Queen. Particular attention had apparently been paid to the 'shine' on Napoleon's top boots and to the Queen's smile!

The Prince's great wish was to restore to the workman his pride in the work of his hands, to relieve the daily toil of some of its irksomeness by the interest thus created in it, and, where the work was of a purely mechanical nature, and individual skill and judgment were not called for, he wished the worker to understand the principles upon which the machine was built and the ingenuity with which it worked.

His schemes for the building and equipment of Museums of Science and Art were arranged with the purpose in view that both rich and poor should have equal opportunities of seeing what improvements had been made throughout the ages, and how vast and far-reaching the effects of such improvements were on the lives of the whole nation.

It was under his direction that the pictures in the National Gallery were first arranged in such a manner as to show the history and progress of art. In his own words: "Our business is not so much to create, as to learn to appreciate and understand the works of others, and we can never do this till we have realized the difficulties to be overcome. Acting on this principle myself, I have always tried to learn the rudiments of art as much as possible. For instance, I learnt oil-painting, water-colours, etching, lithography, etc., and in music I learnt thorough bass, the pianoforte, organ, and singing—not, of course, with a view of doing anything worth looking at or hearing, but simply to enable me to judge and appreciate the works of others."

It is interesting to note how closely the views of the Prince agreed with those of John Ruskin in matters of art and literature. Ruskin declared that it was the greatest misfortune of the age that, owing to the wholesale introduction of machinery, the designer and maker were nearly always different people instead of being one and the same person. He declared that no work of art could really be 'living' or capable of moving us to admiration as did the masterpieces of the Middle Ages unless the maker had thought out and designed it himself.

It was largely owing to his teachings that the 'Arts and Crafts' movement under William Morris and Walter Crane arose—a movement which has since that time spread over the whole civilized world.

In 1862, together with some of his friends, Morris formed a company to encourage the use of beautiful furniture and to introduce 'Art in the House.' Morris himself had learnt to be a practical carpet-weaver and dyer, and had founded the Society for the Protection of Ancient Buildings.

All the work of this firm was done by hand as far as possible; only the best materials were to be used and designs were to be original. They manufactured stained glass, wall paper, tapestry, tiles, embroidery, carpets, etc., and many of the designs were undertaken by Edward Burne-Jones.

Dante Gabriel Rossetti, the poet-painter, Holman Hunt (best remembered by his famous picture "The Light of the World ") and others, formed what was known as the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood, to instruct public taste in creative work in art and literature. At the Kelmscott Press some of the most beautiful printed books of their kind were produced under the direction of Morris.

Ruskin, like so many others of his time, was greatly influenced by Carlyle, and his views on the 'condition of England' question were practically the same. He bewailed the waste of work and of life, the poverty and the 'sweating.' He urged employers to win the goodwill of those who worked for them as the best means of producing the best work. He preached the 'rights' of Labour—that high wages for good work was the truest economy in the end, and that beating down the wages of workers does not pay in the long run. He declared that the only education worth having was a 'humane' education—that is, first of all, the building of character and the cultivation of wholesome feelings. "You do not educate a man by telling him what he knew not, but by making him what he was not," was the theory which he endeavoured to put into practice by experiments such as an attempt to teach every one to "learn to do something well and accurately with his hands."

In common with Wordsworth Ruskin held that the love of Nature was the greatest of educators. He believed that

The world is too much with us; late and soon, Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers.

The beauty and the everlasting marvel of Nature's works were, to him as to the poet of the Lakes, the real road to knowledge:

Come forth into the light of things, Let Nature be your teacher.

An education of not the brain alone, but of heart and hand as well, all three working in co-operation, was necessary to raise man to the level of an intelligent being.

Ruskin's teachings fared no better than those of Carlyle at first, and though he is spoken of sometimes as being 'old-fashioned,' yet his lesson is of the old-fashioned kind which does live and will live, for, like Dickens, he knew how to appeal to the hearts of his readers. He is one of the most picturesque writers in the language, a man of great nobility of character and generous feelings, who had a tremendous belief in himself and knew how to express his thoughts in the most beautiful language. Some of his books, for example Sesame and Lilies and Unto this Last, are probably destined for immortality.



CHAPTER XI: Albert the Good

The year 1861 was a black year for the Queen. On March 15th her mother, the Duchess of Kent, died. She had been living for some time at Frogmore, a pleasant house in the Windsor Home Park, and here in the mausoleum erected by her daughter her statue is to be seen.

She was sincerely loved by every member of her household, and her loss was felt as one affecting the whole nation. In the words of Disraeli: "She who reigns over us has elected, amid all the splendour of empire, to establish her life on the principle of domestic love. It is this, it is the remembrance and consciousness of this, which now sincerely saddens the public spirit, and permits a nation to bear its heartfelt sympathy to the foot of a bereaved throne, and to whisper solace to a royal heart."

The death of the Queen's' mother came as a great shock to the Prince Consort. The Queen was, for a time, utterly unable to transact any business, and this added to his already heavy burden of cares and responsibilities.

In the following November the King of Portugal died. The Prince had loved him like a son, and this fresh disaster told so severely upon his health that he began to suffer much from sleeplessness. The strain of almost ceaseless work for many years was gradually wearing him out.

He had never been afraid of death, and not long before his last illness he had said to his wife: "I do not cling to life. You do; but I set no store by it. If I knew that those I love were well cared for, I should be quite ready to die to-morrow. . . . I am sure, if I had a severe illness, I should give up at once, I should not struggle for life."

On the 1st of December the Queen felt anxious and depressed. Her husband grew worse and could not take food without considerable difficulty, and this made him very weak and irritable.

The physicians in attendance were now obliged to tell her that the illness was low fever, but that the patient himself was not to know of this. The Ministers became alarmed at his state, and when the news of his illness became public there was the greatest and most universal anxiety for news.

In spite of slight improvements from time to time, the Prince showed no power of fighting the disease, and on the evening of the 14th December he passed gently away.

It is no exaggeration to say that the death of the Queen's beloved husband saddened every home in the land; it was a sorrow felt equally by the highest and the lowest. He died in the fulness of his manhood, leaving her whom he had loved and guarded so tenderly to reign in lonely splendour.

In the dedication of Idylls of the King to the memory of Prince Albert, Tennyson, the poet-laureate, wrote:

Break not, O woman's-heart, but still endure; Break not, for thou art Royal, but endure, Remembering all the beauty of that star Which shone so close beside Thee that ye made One light together, but has past and leaves The Crown a lonely splendour.

When one looks over the vista of years which have passed since that mournful day, it is with sadness mingled with regret. For it is too true that "a prophet is not without honour, save in his own country."

'Albert the Good' was, like many other great men, in advance of his times, and not until he was dead did the nation as a whole realize the blank he had left behind him.

Even so late as 1854 Greville writes in his Diary of the extraordinary attacks which were made upon the Prince in the public Press. Letter after letter, he noted, appeared "full of the bitterest abuse and all sorts of lies. . . . The charges against him are principally to this effect, that he has been in the habit of meddling improperly in public affairs, and has used his influence to promote objects of his own and the interests of his own family at the expense of the interests of this country; that he is German and not English in his sentiments and principles; that he corresponds with foreign princes and with British Ministers abroad without the knowledge of the Government, and that he thwarts the foreign policy of the Ministers when it does not coincide with his own ideas and purposes." And again: "It was currently reported in the Midland and Northern counties, and actually stated in a Scotch paper, that Prince Albert had been committed to the Tower, and there were people found credulous and foolish enough to believe it."

But English gratitude is always such To hate the hand which doth oblige too much.

These words of Daniel Defoe help to explain something of the attitude of a part of the nation toward the Prince in his lifetime.

He had given his life in the service of his wife and his adopted country, but he was a 'foreigner,' and the insular Briton, brought up in the blissful belief that "one Englishman was as good as three Frenchmen," could not and would not overcome his distrust of one who had not been, like himself, so singularly blessed in his nationality.

But Time has its revenges, and the services of Prince Albert will "smell sweet and blossom in the dust" long after the very names of once famous lights of the Victorian era have been forgotten.

His home life was singularly sweet and happy, and a great contrast to that of some of his wife's predecessors upon the English throne. The Queen, writing to her Uncle Leopold in this the twenty-first year of their marriage, says: "Very few can say with me that their husband at the end of twenty-one years is not only full of the friendship, kindness, and affection which a truly happy marriage brings with it, but the same tender love of the very first days of our marriage!"

The Prince, in a letter to a friend, rejoiced that their marriage "still continues green and fresh and throws out vigorous roots, from which I can, with gratitude to God, acknowledge that much good will yet be engendered for the world."

The finest tribute to the Prince Consort's memory is to be found in the Dedication written by Lord Tennyson to his Idylls of the King:

These to His Memory—since he held them dear, Perchance as finding there unconsciously Some image of himself—I dedicate, I dedicate, I consecrate with tears— These Idylls.

Like Arthur, 'the flower of kings,' he was a man of ideals, above petty jealousies and small ambitions:

Hereafter, thro' all times, Albert the Good.

The Idylls produced such a deep impression upon the Prince that he wrote to the author, asking him to inscribe his name in the volume. The book remained always a great favourite with him, and Princess Frederick William was engaged upon a series of pictures illustrating her favourite passages at the time of his death.

An enumeration of the varied activities of Prince Albert during his lifetime would need a volume. His position was always a difficult one and was seldom made easier by the section of the Press which singled him out as a target for its poisoned arrows. Only a strong sense of duty and an unwavering belief in his wife's love could have sustained him through the many dark hours of tribulation and sorrow. He rose early all the year round, and prepared drafts of answers to the Queen's Ministers, wrote letters and had cleared off a considerable amount of work before many men would have thought of beginning the day's tasks.



No article of any importance in the newspapers or magazines escaped his attention. Every one appealed to him for help or advice, and none asked in vain. His wide knowledge and judgment were freely used by the Queen's statesmen, and the day proved all too short for the endless amount of work which had to be done.

In spite of increasing burdens and poor health he was always in good spirits. "At breakfast and at luncheon, and also at our family dinners, he sat at the top of the table, and kept us all enlivened by his interesting conversation, by his charming anecdotes, and droll stories without end of his childhood, of people at Coburg, of our good people in Scotland, which he would repeat with a wonderful power of mimicry, and at which he would himself laugh most heartily. Then he would at other times entertain us with his talk about the most interesting and important topics of the present and of former days, on which it was ever a pleasure to hear him speak."[10]

[Footnote 10: Queen Victoria's Journal.]

His rule in life was to make his position entirely a part of the Queen's, "to place all his time and powers at her command." Every speech which he made in public was carefully considered beforehand, and then written out and committed to memory. As he had to speak in a foreign tongue, he considered this precaution absolutely necessary. At the same time it often made him feel shy and nervous when speaking before strangers, and this sometimes gave to those who did not know him a mistaken impression of coldness and reserve.

His sympathy with the working classes was sincere and practical. He was convinced that "any real improvement must be the result of the exertion of the working people themselves." He was President of the Society for Improving the Condition of the Labouring Classes, and never lost an opportunity of pointing out that, to quote his own words, "the Royal Family are not merely living upon the earnings of the people (as these publications try to represent) without caring for the poor labourers, but that they are anxious about their welfare, and ready to co-operate in any scheme for the amelioration of their condition. We may possess these feelings, and yet the mass of the people may be ignorant of it, because they have never heard it expressed to them, or seen any tangible proof of it."

His grasp of detail and knowledge of home and foreign political affairs astonished every one who met him, ministers and ambassadors alike. His writing-table and that of the Queen stood side by side in their sitting-room, and here they used to work together, every dispatch which left their hands being the joint work of both. The Prince corrected and revised everything carefully before it received the Queen's signature. Considering the small amount of time at his disposal, it was remarkable how much he was able to read, and read thoroughly, both with the Queen and by himself. "Not many, but much," was his principle, and every book read was carefully noted in his diary.

Even to the last he exerted his influence in the cause of peace. The American Civil War broke out in 1861, and Great Britain declared her neutrality. But an incident, known as 'The Trent Affair,' nearly brought about a declaration of war.

The Southern States, or 'Confederates,' as they were usually called, sent two commissioners to Europe on board the British mail steamer Trent. The Trent was fired upon and boarded by a Federal officer, who arrested the commissioners.

This was regarded as an insult to our flag, as it was a breach of international law to attack the ship of a neutral power. The Government therefore decided to demand redress, and a dispatch, worded by Palmerston, was forwarded to the Queen for her signature.

The Prince realized at once that if the dispatch were forwarded as it was written it would lead to open war between the Northern States and our country, and he suggested certain alterations to the Queen, who agreed to them. A more courteously worded message was sent, and the Northern States at once agreed to liberate the commissioners and offered an ample apology.



CHAPTER XII: Friends and Advisers

Possibly the person to whom the Queen owed most—next to her husband—was Lord Melbourne. His position at the time when the young Queen came to the throne was a unique one. Victoria was just eighteen years of age—that is to say, if she had been a little younger it would have been necessary to appoint a Regent until such time as she came of age. For many years it had not been a matter of certainty that she would succeed to the throne, and the late King's unreliable temper had been the means of preventing the matter from being properly arranged as regards certain advantages which might have been given to the Princess during his life-time. In many ways, however, it was fortunate that the Queen came to the throne at such an early age: if her knowledge of State politics was small, she possessed, at any rate, a well-trained mind, a sense of duty, and a clear idea as to the responsibilities of her position as ruler of a great nation.

There had been four reigning queens in this country before Victoria, but all of them had had some previous training for their duties. The two Tudor queens came of a ruling stock, and were older in years and experience. The times, too, were very different. Queen Elizabeth, for example, before coming to the throne possessed an intimate knowledge of political affairs, and experience—she had been confined in the Tower of London and narrowly escaped losing her head—had endowed her with the wisdom of the serpent. The two Stuart queens were no longer young, and both were married.

The circumstances in the case of the young Victoria were thus totally different. She stood alone, and it was clear that some one must help her to grapple with the thousand and one difficulties which surrounded her. It was for some time uncertain who would undertake the duty, until, almost before he had realized it himself, Lord Melbourne found himself in the position of 'guide, philosopher, and friend.'

How he devoted himself to this work can be judged from the fact that no one—not even any of his opponents—regarded him with the slightest mistrust or jealousy.

Melbourne was at this time fifty-eight years of age, an honourable, honest-hearted Englishman. He was sympathetic by nature, fond of female society, and, in addition, was devoted to the Queen. His manner toward her was always charming, and he was in constant attendance upon her.

Nor was the training which the Queen received from him limited to politics, but matters of private interest were often discussed. Every morning he brought dispatches with him to be read and answered; after the midday meal he went out riding with her, and, whenever his parliamentary duties allowed, he was to be found at her side at the dinner-table. When he retired from office he was able to state with pride that he had seen his Sovereign every day during the past four years.

The news of her engagement to Prince Albert was received by him with the keenest pleasure, and the Queen in writing to her uncle says: "Lord Melbourne, whom I of course have consulted about the whole affair, quite approves my choice, and expresses great satisfaction at the event, which he thinks in every way highly desirable. Lord Melbourne has acted in this business, as he has always done toward me, with the greatest kindness and affection."

It was a real wrench to the Queen when the time for parting came. Melbourne, with his easy-going nature and somewhat free and easy language, had schooled himself as well as his young pupil, and had become a friend as well as an adviser. Some words of Greville's might aptly serve for this great statesman's epitaph:

"It has become his providence to educate, instruct, and form the most interesting mind and character in the world. No occupation was ever more engrossing or involved greater responsibility . . . it is fortunate that she has fallen into his hands, and that he discharges this great duty wisely, honourably, and conscientiously."

The Queen was equally fortunate in his successor, Sir Robert Peel, a statesman for whom she had every confidence and respect, "a man who thinks but little of party and never of himself."

Peel was never afraid of making up his mind and then sticking to his plan of action, although, as often happened, it brought him into opposition with members of his own party. In his hands both the Queen and her husband felt that the interests of the Crown were secure.

Peel naturally felt considerable embarrassment on first taking up office, as he had given support in the previous year to a motion which proposed cutting down the Prince's income. But the Prince felt no resentment, and so frank and cordial was his manner that Peel, following Lord Melbourne's lead, continued to keep him, from day to day, thoroughly in touch with the course of public affairs.

The relations between the Queen and her Minister were cordial in the extreme. Peel appreciated very fully her simple domestic tastes, and he was able at a later date to bring before her notice Osborne, which might serve as a "loophole of retreat" from the "noise and strife and questions wearisome."

The Queen was delighted with the estate. "It is impossible to see a prettier place, with woods and valleys and points de vue, which would be beautiful anywhere; but when these are combined with the sea (to which the woods grow down), and a beach which is quite private, it is really everything one could wish."

In 1845 the Queen asked Lord Aberdeen if she could not show in some way her appreciation of the courage with which Sir Robert Peel had brought forward and supported two great measures, in the face of tremendous opposition. She suggested that he should be offered the Order of the Garter, the highest distinction possible.

Sir Robert Peel's reply was that he would much prefer not to accept any reward at all; he sprang, he said, from the people, and such a great honour in his case was out of the question. The only reward he asked for was Her Majesty's confidence, and so long as he possessed that he was content.

When his ministry came to an end the Prince wrote to him, begging that their relations should not on that account cease. Sir Robert replied, thanking him for "the considerate kindness and indulgence" he had received at their hands, and regretting that he should no longer be able to correspond so frequently as before. The Prince and he were in the fullest sympathy in matters of politics, art, and literature, and Peel had supported the Prince loyally through all the anxieties connected with the arrangements for the Great Exhibition.

His death in 1850 was a calamity. Prince Albert, in a letter, speaks of Peel as "the best of men, our truest friend, the strongest bulwark of the throne, the greatest statesman of his time."

The Duke of Wellington said in the Upper House: "In all the course of my acquaintance with Sir Robert Peel I never knew a man in whose truth and justice I had a more lively confidence, or in whom I saw a more invariable desire to promote the public service. In the whole course of my communications with him I never knew an instance in which he did not show the strongest attachment to truth; and I never saw in the whole course of my life the slightest reason for suspecting that he stated anything which he did not believe to be the fact." The Queen writing to her uncle said that "Albert . . . felt and feels Sir Robert's loss dreadfully. He feels he has lost a second father."

As a statesman it was said of him that "for concocting, producing, explaining and defending measures, he had no equal, or anything like an equal."

By far the most interesting person who acted as both friend and adviser to the Queen and her husband was the Baron Christian Friedrich von Stockmar, who had been private physician to Prince Leopold, and afterward private secretary and controller of his household. He took an active part in the negotiations which led to his master becoming King of the Belgians. Long residence in this country had given him a thorough knowledge of England and the English, and he claimed friendship with the leading diplomatists both at home and on the European continent.

In 1834 he retired to Coburg, but later was chosen, as we have seen, to lend his valuable advice toward bringing about a union between Prince Albert and Queen Victoria, both of whom he knew and admired.

Immediately before Victoria's accession King Leopold had sent him to England, where his counsel, judgment, and thorough knowledge of the English Constitution were placed at the service of the young Princess. He accompanied Prince Albert on a tour in Italy, and again returned to England to make arrangements for the Prince's future household.

All that he did during this period was done quietly and behind the scenes, and though he was a foreigner by birth, he worked to bring about the marriage for the sake of the country he loved so well. He looked upon England as the home of political freedom. "Out of its bosom," he stated, "singly and solely has sprung America's free Constitution, in all its present power and importance, in its incalculable influence upon the social condition of the whole human race; and in my eyes the English Constitution is the foundation-, corner-, and cope-stone of the entire political civilization of the human race, present and to come."

He soon became the Prince's confidential adviser, and his unrivalled knowledge and strict sense of truth and duty proved of the utmost value.

He endeared himself to both the Queen and the Prince, and successive statesmen trusted him absolutely for his freedom from prejudice and for his sincerity.

In 1842 he drew up for the Queen some rules for the education of her children. "A man's education begins the first day of his life," was one of his maxims. He insisted that "the education of the royal infants ought to be from its earliest beginning a truly moral and a truly English one." The persons to whom the children are entrusted should receive the full support and confidence of the parents, otherwise "education lacks its very soul and vitality." He suggested that a lady of rank should be placed at the head of the nursery, as being better able to understand the responsibilities and duties attached to the education and upbringing of the Queen's children.

His advice was again taken when it was necessary to settle upon what plan the young Prince of Wales should be educated.

Stockmar's judgment of men was singularly correct and just. He formed the highest opinion of Sir Robert Peel, and on the Duke of Wellington's death in 1852 he wrote in a letter to the Prince a masterly analysis of the great commander's character, concluding with these words: "As the times we live in cannot fail to present your Royal Highness with great and worthy occasions to distinguish yourself, you should not shrink from turning them to account . . . as Wellington did, for the good of all, yet without detriment to yourself."

The Prince corresponded regularly with 'the good Stockmar,' and always in time of doubt and trial came sage counsel from his trusted friend. In fact, the Prince took both the Queen and his friend equally into his confidence; they were the two to whom he could unbosom himself with entire freedom.

Disraeli, afterward Lord Beaconsfield, obtained the Queen's fullest confidence and won her friendship to an extent which no Minister since Melbourne had ever been able to do. 'Dizzy,' the leader of the 'Young England' party, the writer of political novels, was a very different person from the statesman of later years. It is difficult to remember or to realize in these days that it was looked upon as something quite extraordinary for a member of a once despised and persecuted race, the Jews, to hold high office. The annual celebrations of 'Primrose Day,' April 19, the anniversary of his death, are sufficient proof that this great statesman's services to the British Empire are not yet forgotten.

Lord Beaconsfield, whom she regarded with sincere affection, possessed a remarkable influence over the Queen, for the simple reason that he never forgot to treat her as a woman. He was noted throughout his life for his chivalry to the opposite sex, and his devotion to his wife was very touching.

He was a firm believer in the power of the Crown for good. "The proper leader of the people," he declared, "is the individual who sits upon the throne." He wished the Sovereign to be in a position to rule as well as to reign, to be at one with the nation, above the quarrels and differences of the political parties, and to be their representative.

When quite a young man, he declared that he would one day be Prime Minister, and with this end in view he entered Parliament against the wishes of his family. He was an untiring worker all his life, and a firm believer in action. "Act, act, act without ceasing, and you will no longer talk of the vanity of life," was his creed.

His ideas on education were original, and he did everything in his power to improve the training of the young. In 1870 he supported the great measure for a scheme of national education. Some years earlier he declared that "it is an absolute necessity that we should study to make every man the most effective being that education can possibly constitute him. In the old wars there used to be a story that one Englishman could beat three members of some other nation. But I think if we want to maintain our power, we ought to make one Englishman equal really in the business of life to three other men that any other nation can furnish. I do not see otherwise how . . . we can fulfil the great destiny that I believe awaits us, and the great position we occupy."

He did more than any other Minister to raise the Crown to the position it now occupies, and no monarch ever had a more devoted and faithful servant. His high standard of morals and his force of character especially appealed to the English people, and his loyalty to his friends and colleagues remained unshaken throughout his whole life. He impressed not only his own countrymen, but also foreigners, with his splendid gifts of imagination and foresight.

Bismarck, the man of 'blood and iron,' who welded the disunited states of Germany into a united and powerful empire, considered that Queen Victoria was the greatest statesman in Europe, and of the great Beaconsfield he said: "Disraeli is England."

Disraeli was a master of wit and phrase, and many of his best sayings and definitions have become proverbial, e.g. "the hansom, the 'gondola' of London," "our young Queen and our old institutions," "critics, men who have failed," "books, the curse of the human race."



The central figure of his time was the statesman-warrior, the great Duke of Wellington, 'the Duke.' After the famous Marlborough, England had not been able to boast of such a great commander. He was the best known figure in London, and though he never courted popularity or distinction, yet he served his Queen as Prime Minister when desired. "The path of duty" was for him "the way to glory." In 1845 the greatest wish of his life was realized when the Queen and her husband paid him a two days' visit at his residence, Strathfieldsaye.

Alfred Tennyson's "Ode on the Death of the Duke of Wellington," in 1852, praises him as 'truth-teller' and 'truth-lover,' and mourns for him:

Let the long, long procession go, And let the sorrowing crowd about it grow, And let the mournful, martial music blow; The last great Englishman is low.

In striking contrast to the 'Iron Duke' was the man whom Disraeli could never learn to like, Lord John Russell. Generally depicted in the pages of Punch as a pert, cocksure little fellow, 'little Johnny,' the leader of the Whig party was a power as a leader. He knew how to interpret the Queen's wishes in a manner agreeable to herself, yet he did not hesitate, when he thought it advisable, to speak quite freely in criticism of her actions.

His ancestors in the Bedford family had in olden days been advisers of the Crown, and Lord John thus came of a good stock; he himself, nevertheless, was always alert to prevent any encroachment upon the growing powers and rights of the people.

He was a favourite of the Queen, and she gave him as a residence a house and grounds in Richmond Park. He was a man of the world and an agreeable talker, very well read, fond of quoting poetry, and especially pleased if he could indulge in reminiscences in his own circle of what his royal mistress had said at her last visit.

Finally, mention must be made of one who, though he held no high position of State, can with justice be regarded as both friend and adviser of the Queen—John Brown. He entered the Queen's service at Balmoral, became later a gillie to the Prince Consort, and in 1851 the Queen's personal outdoor attendant. He was a man of a very straightforward nature and blunt speech, and even his Royal Mistress was not safe at times from criticism. In spite of his rough manner, he possessed many admirable qualities, and on his death in 1883 the Queen caused a granite seat to be erected in the grounds of Osborne with the following inscription:

A TRUER, NOBLER, TRUSTIER HEART, MORE LOVING AND MORE LOYAL, NEVER BEAT WITHIN A HUMAN BREAST.



CHAPTER XIII: Queen and Empire

What should they know of England who only England know?

The England of Queen Elizabeth was the England of Shakespeare:

This royal throne of kings, this scepter'd isle, This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars, This other Eden, demi-paradise; This fortress built by Nature for herself Against infection and the hand of war; This happy breed of men, this little world, This precious stone set in the silver sea, Which serves it in the office of a wall, Or as a moat defensive to a house, Against the envy of less happier lands; This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England.

In Tennyson's Princess we find an echo of these words, where the poet, in contrasting England and France, monarchy and republic—much to the disadvantage of the latter—says:

God bless the narrow sea which keeps her off, And keeps our Britain, whole within herself, A nation yet, the rulers and the ruled.

But at a later date, in an "Epilogue to the Queen," at the close of the Idylls of the King, Tennyson has said farewell to his narrow insular views, and speaks of

Our ocean-empire with her boundless homes For ever-broadening England, and her throne In our vast Orient, and one isle, one isle, That knows not her own greatness: if she knows And dreads it we are fall'n.

He had come to recognize the necessity for guarding and maintaining the Empire, with all its greatness and all its burdens, as part of this country's destiny.

It is a little difficult to realize that the British Empire, as we now know it, has been created within only the last hundred years. Beaconsfield, in his novel Contarini Fleming, describes the difference between ancient and modern colonies. "A modern colony," he says, "is a commercial enterprise, an ancient colony was a political sentiment." In other words, colonies were a matter of 'cash' to modern nations, such as the Spaniards: in the time of the ancients there was a close tie, a feeling of kinship, and the colonist was not looked upon with considerable contempt and dislike by the Mother Country.

Beaconsfield believed that there would come a time, and that not far distant, when men would change their ideas. "I believe that a great revolution is at hand in our system of colonization, and that Europe will soon recur to the principles of the ancient polity."

This feeling of pride in the growth and expansion of our great over-seas dominions is comparatively new, and there was a time when British ministers seriously proposed separation, from what they considered to be a useless burden.

The ignorance of all that concerned the colonies in the early years of Victoria's reign was extraordinary, and this accounted, to a great extent, for the indifference with which the English people regarded the prospect of drifting apart.

Lord Beaconsfield was a true prophet, for this indifference is now a thing of the past, and in the year 1875 an Imperial Federation League was formed, which, together with the celebrations at the Jubilees in 1887 and 1897, helped to knit this country and the Dominions together in bonds of friendship and sympathy. The rapid improvements in communication have brought the different parts of the Empire closer together; the Imperial Penny Postage and an all-British cable route to Australia have kept us in constant touch with our kinsmen in every part of the world where the Union Jack is flown.

But this did not all come about in a day. Prejudice and dislike are difficult to conquer, and it was chiefly owing to the efforts of Lord Beaconsfield that they were eventually overcome.

Imperialism too often means 'Jingoism,'—wild waving of flags and chanting of such melodies as:

We don't want to fight, But, by Jingo, if we do, We've got the ships, we've got the men, We've got the money too.

The true Imperialism is "defence, not defiance." Beaconsfield looked back into the past and sought to "resume the thread of our ancient empire." For him empire meant no easy burden but a solemn duty, a knitting together of all the varied races and religions in one common cause. "Peace with honour" was his and England's watchword. He believed, in fact, like Shakespeare, in saying

Beware Of entrance to a quarrel; but, being in, Bear't, that th' opposed may beware of thee.

He was very particular on the duty of "if necessary, saying rough things kindly, and not kind things roughly," which was a lesson Lord Palmerston never seemed to be capable of learning. Another of his maxims was that it was wiser from every point of view to treat semi-barbarous nations with due respect for their customs and feelings. He preached Confederation and not Annexation. "By pursuing the policy of Confederation," he declared, "we bind states together, we consolidate their resources, and we enable them to establish a strong frontier, that is the best security against annexation."

His whole policy was to foster the growth of independence and build the foundations of a peace which should be enduring. "Both in the East and in the West our object is to have prosperous, happy, and contented neighbours."

The object of his imperialism was to progress, at the same time paying due respect to the traditions of the past; he rightly believed that the character of a nation, like that of an individual, is strengthened by responsibility.

"The glory of the Empire and the prosperity of the people" was what he hoped to achieve.

During the anxious times of the Indian Mutiny he alone seemed to grasp the real meaning of this sudden uprising of alien races. He declared that it was a revolt and not a mutiny; a revolt against the English because of their lack of respect for ancient rights and customs.

After the war was ended he declared that the Government ought to tell the people of India "that the relation between them and their real ruler and sovereign, Queen Victoria, shall be drawn nearer." This should be done "in the Queen's name and with the Queen's authority." He appealed to the whole Indian nation by his 'Royal Titles Bill,' by means of which the Queen received the title of Empress of India. This brought home to the minds and imaginations of the native races the real meaning and grandeur of the Empire of which they were now a part. The great Queen was now their Empress, or, to use the Indian title, 'Kaiser-i-Hind.'

The Queen took the deepest interest in the Proclamation to the Indian people in 1858, and insisted on a number of alterations before she would allow it to be passed as satisfactory. She wrote to Lord Derby asking him to remember that "it is a female sovereign who speaks to more than a hundred millions of Eastern people on assuming the direct government over them after a bloody, civil war, giving them pledges which her future reign is to redeem, and explaining the principles of her government. Such a document should breathe feelings of generosity, benevolence, and religious feeling, pointing out the privileges which the Indians will receive in being placed on an equality with the subjects of the British Crown, and the prosperity following in the train of civilization."

Direct mention was to be made of the introduction of railways, canals, and telegraphs, with an assurance that such works would be the cause of general welfare to the Indian people. In conclusion she added: "Her Majesty wishes expression to be given to her feelings of horror and regret at the results of this bloody civil war, and of pleasure and gratitude to God at its approaching end, and Her Majesty thinks the Proclamation should terminate by an invocation to Providence for its blessing on a great work for a great and good end."

The amended Proclamation was read in every province in India and met everywhere with cordial approval by princes and natives alike. The feeling of loyalty was aroused by the Queen's assurance that "in your prosperity is our strength, in your contentment our security, and in your gratitude our best reward."

On May 1, 1859, in England, and on July 28, 1859, in India, there was a general thanksgiving for the restoration of peace.

Although the Queen was never able to visit India in person, in 1875 the Prince of Wales went, at her request, to mark her appreciation of the loyalty of the native princes. The welcome given to the future King of England was truly royal. Reviews, banquets, illuminations, state dinners followed one another in rapid succession. Benares, the sacred city of the Hindoos, was visited, and here the Prince witnessed a great procession which included large numbers of elephants and camels, and an illumination of the entire river and city.

At Delhi, the capital of the Great Mogul, the Prince was met by Lord Napier of Magdala at the head of fifteen thousand troops, and at Lucknow an address and a crown set with jewels were presented to him.



It was in the same year that Disraeli, on behalf of the British Government, purchased a very large number of shares in the Suez Canal, thus gaining for us a hand in its administration—a vitally important matter when one realizes how much closer India has been brought by this saving in time over the long voyage round the Cape.

To pass in review the growth and expansion of the Empire during the Queen's reign would be a difficult task, and an impossible one within the limits of a small volume. The expressions of loyalty and devotion from the representatives of the great over-seas dominions on the occasion of the Queen's Jubilee in 1887 were proof enough that England and the English were no longer an insular land and people, but a mighty nation with one sovereign head.

In the address which was presented to the Queen it was stated that during her reign her colonial subjects of European descent had increased from two to nine millions, and in Asia and India there was an increase of population from ninety-six to two hundred and fifty-four millions.

After the great ceremony of thanksgiving in St Paul's Cathedral the Queen expressed her thanks to her people in the following message:

"I am anxious to express to my people my warm thanks for the kind, and more than kind, reception I met with on going to and returning from Westminster Abbey with all my children and grandchildren.

"The enthusiastic reception I met with then, as well as on those eventful days in London, as well as in Windsor, on the occasion of my Jubilee, has touched me most deeply, and has shown that the labours and anxieties of fifty long years—twenty-two years of which I spent in unclouded happiness, shared with and cheered by my beloved husband, while an equal number were full of sorrows and trial borne without his sheltering arm and wise help—have been appreciated by my people. This feeling and the sense of duty towards my dear country and subjects, who are so inseparably bound up with my life, will encourage me in my task, often a very difficult and arduous one, during the remainder of my life.

"The wonderful order preserved on this occasion, and the good behaviour of the enormous multitudes assembled, merits my highest admiration. That God may protect and abundantly bless my country is my fervent prayer."

And in laying the foundation-stone of the Imperial Institute, she said:

"I concur with you in thinking that the counsel and exertions of my beloved husband initiated a movement which gave increased vigour to commercial activity, and produced marked and lasting improvements in industrial efforts. One indirect result of that movement has been to bring more before the minds of men the vast and varied resources of the Empire over which Providence has willed that I should reign during fifty prosperous years.

"I believe and hope that the Imperial Institute will play a useful part in combining those resources for the common advantage of all my subjects, conducing towards the welding of the colonies, India, and the mother-country, into one harmonious and united community. . . ."

When war was declared in South Africa and the Boer forces invaded Cape Colony and Natal, contingents from Canada, Australia, New Zealand, Cape Colony, and Natal joined the British force and fought side by side throughout that long and trying campaign.

In 1897 was celebrated the sixtieth anniversary of the Queen's reign, and every colony sent a detachment of troops to represent it. At the steps of St Paul's Cathedral the Queen remained to return thanks to God for all the blessings of her reign, and after the magnificent procession had returned she once again sent a message to her people:

"In weal and woe I have ever had the true sympathy of all my people, which has been warmly reciprocated by myself. It has given me unbounded pleasure to see so many of my subjects from all parts of the world assembled here, and to find them joining in the acclamations of loyal devotion to myself, and I wish to thank them all from the depth of my grateful heart."



Appendix to Chapter XIII

THE BRITISH EMPIRE

The population of the Empire is estimated to be 355 millions of coloured and 60 millions of white people.

CANADA

1840. The Act of Union passed. The two colonies of Upper and Lower Canada united, and a representative Assembly formed.

1867. Bill for the Federation of Canada passed. The various provinces united under the title of Dominion of Canada, ruled by a Governor-General, nominated by the Crown. The Central Parliament, which dealt with matters relating to the Dominion, established at Ottawa.

1885. Completion of the Canadian Pacific Railway, which led to the opening up of the North-West. The great stream of emigration from Europe commences.

AUSTRALIA

Australia became a United Commonwealth at the beginning of the present century.

From 1851 onward the transportation of convicts was prohibited.

The expansion of the Commonwealth has taken place to a great extent during the reign of Queen Victoria. The majority of the settlers are of British descent.

SOUTH AFRICA

South Africa finally united in 1910 with self-government.

INDIA

Disraeli, in 1876, introduced the Royal Titles Bill, by means of which the Queen was able to assume the title of Empress of India.



CHAPTER XIV: Stress and Strain

Forward, forward let us range, Let the great world spin for ever down the ringing grooves of change. TENNYSON

The greatest Revolutions are not always those which are accompanied by riot and bloodshed. England's Revolution was peaceful, but it worked vast and almost incredible changes.

We find, in the first place, that after the great Napoleonic Wars and during the 'forty years' peace' a new class, the 'Middle Class,' came into being. It had, of course, existed before this time, but it had been unable to make its power felt. The astonishing increase of trade and consequently of wealth, the application of steam power with special influence upon land and sea transit, transformed England into "the Workshop of the World."

By the year 1840 railways were no longer regarded as something in the nature of an experiment, which might or might not prove a success; they had, indeed, become an integral part of the social life of the nation. In 1840 the Railway Regulation Act was passed, followed in 1844 by the Cheap Trains Act, which required that passengers must be carried in covered waggons at a charge of not more than one penny a mile and at a speed of not less than twelve miles an hour.

From 1844 onward the construction of railways proceeded apace, until by the year 1874 no less than 16,449 miles had been laid. Ocean traffic under steam progressed equally rapidly; in 1812 the first steamer appeared upon the Clyde, and in 1838 the famous Great Western steamed from Bristol to New York.

The quickening and cheapening of transport called for new and improved methods of manufacture; small business concerns grew into great mercantile houses with interests all over the face of the globe. Everywhere movement and expansion; everywhere change. A powerful commercial class came into existence, and power—that is, voting power—passed to this class and was held by it until the year 1865. From this year, roughly speaking, the power passed into the hands of the democracy.

Education, which had been to a great extent a class monopoly, gradually penetrated to all ranks and grades of society. In 1867 the second Reform Act was passed; a very large proportion of the urban working classes were given the power of voting, and it was naturally impossible to entrust such powers for long to an illiterate democracy. Therefore, in 1870, Mr Forster's Education Act was passed, which required that in every district where sufficient voluntary schools did not exist a School Board should be formed to build and maintain the necessary school accommodation at the cost of the rates. By a later Act of 1876 school attendance was made compulsory. Every effort was made in succeeding years to raise the level of intelligence among present and future citizens. Education became national and universal.

During the period 1865-85 the population of the kingdom increased, and the emigration to the British colonial possessions reached its maximum in the year 1883, when the figures were 183,236.

The rapid rise in population of the large towns drew attention more and more urgently to the question of public health. Every city and every town had its own problems to face, and the necessity for solving these cultivated and strengthened the sense of civic pride and responsibility. We find during this period an ever-growing interest throughout the country in the welfare, both moral and mental, of the great mass of the workers. Municipal life became the training-ground where many a member of Parliament served his apprenticeship.

Municipalities took charge of baths and washhouses, organized and built public markets, ensured a cheap and ample supply of pure water, installed modern systems of drainage, provided housing accommodation at low rents for the poorer classes, built hospitals for infectious diseases, and, finally, carried on the great and important work of educating its citizens.

The power of Labour began, at last, to make itself felt. The first attempt at co-operation made by the Rochdale Pioneers in 1844 stimulated others to follow their example, and in 1869 the Co-operative Union was formed. The Trade Unions showed an increased interest in education, in forming libraries and classes, and in extending their somewhat narrow policy as their voting power increased. Out of this movement sprang Working Men's Clubs attached to the Unions and carrying on all branches of work, educational and beneficial, amongst its members.

The standard of society was continually rising, and it was already a far cry to the Early Victorian England described in an earlier chapter.

The world was growing smaller—that is to say, communications between country and country, between continent and continent, were growing more easy. The first insulated cable was laid in 1848, across the Hudson River, from Jersey City to New York, and in 1857 an unsuccessful attempt was made to connect the New and the Old World. In 1866 the Great Eastern, after two trials, succeeded in laying a complete cable. The expansion of the powers of human invention led to a great increase in the growth of comfort of all classes. To take only a few striking examples: at the beginning of the century matches were not yet invented, and only in 1827 were the 'Congreve' sulphur matches put on the market; they were sold at the rate of one shilling a box containing eighty-four matches! In the year 1821 gas was still considered a luxury; soap and candles were both greatly improved and cheapened. By the withdrawal of the window tax in 1851 obvious and necessary advantages were gained in the building of houses.

In 1855 the stamp duty on newspapers was abolished. In these days of cheap halfpenny papers with immense circulations it is difficult to realize that at a date not very far distant from us, the poor scarcely, if ever, saw a newspaper at all. Friends used to club together to reduce the great expense of buying a single copy, and agents hired out copies for the sum of one penny per hour. The only effect of the stamp duty had been to cut off the poorer classes from all sources of trustworthy information.

In 1834 not a single town in the kingdom with the exception of London possessed a daily paper. The invention of steam printing, and the introduction of shorthand reporting and the use of telegraph and railways, revolutionized the whole world of journalism.

Charles Dickens, on the occasion of his presiding, in May 1865, at the second annual dinner of the Newspaper Press Fund, gave his hearers an idea of what newspaper reporters were and what they suffered in the early days. "I have pursued the calling of a reporter under circumstances of which many of my brethren here can form no adequate conception. I have often transcribed for the printer, from my shorthand notes, important public speeches in which the strictest accuracy was required, and a mistake in which would have been to a young man severely compromising, writing on the palm of my hand, by the light of a dark lantern, in a post-chaise and four, galloping through a wild country, and through the dead of the night, at the then surprising rate of fifteen miles an hour. . . . I have worn my knees by writing on them on the old back-row of the old gallery of the old House of Commons; and I have worn my feet by standing to write in a preposterous pen in the old House of Lords, where we used to be huddled together like so many sheep—kept in waiting, say, until the woolsack might want re-stuffing. Returning home from exciting political meetings in the country to the waiting press in London, I do verily believe I have been upset in almost every description of vehicle known in this country. I have been, in my time, belated on miry by-roads, towards the small hours, forty or fifty miles from London, in a wheelless carriage, with exhausted horses and drunken post-boys, and have got back in time for publication, to be received with never-forgotten compliments by the late Mr Black, coming in the broadest of Scotch from the broadest of hearts I ever knew."

During these later years England came to look upon her duties and responsibilities toward her colonial possessions in quite a different light. Imperialism became a factor in the political life of the nation.

The builders of Empire in the time of Queen Elizabeth took a very narrow view of their responsibilities; they were not in the least degree concerned about the well-being of a colony or possession for its own sake. The state of Ireland in those days spoke for itself. The horrors of the Indian Mutiny in 1857 was the first lesson which opened England's eyes to the fact that an Empire, if it is to be anything more than a name, must be a united whole under wise and sympathetic guidance.

The rebellion proved to be the end of the old East Indian Company. England took over the administration of Indian affairs into her own hands. An "Act for the better Government of India" was passed in 1858, which provided that all the territories previously under the government of the Company were to be vested in Her Majesty, and all the Company's powers to be exercised in her name. The Viceroy, with the assistance of a Council, was to be supreme in India.

In 1867 a great colonial reform was carried out, the Confederation of the North American Provinces of the British Empire. By this Act the names of Upper and Lower Canada were changed respectively to Ontario and Quebec. The first Dominion Parliament met in the autumn of the same year, and lost no time in passing an Act to construct an Inter-Colonial Railway affording proper means of communication between the maritime and central provinces.

In 1869 the Hudson Bay territory was acquired from the Company which held it, and after the Red River Insurrection, headed by a half-breed, Louis Riel, had been successfully crushed by the Wolseley Expedition, the territory was made part of the Federation. In 1871 British Columbia became part of the Dominion, on condition that a railway was constructed within the following ten years which should extend from the Pacific to the Rocky Mountains and connect with the existing railway system.

The great Canadian Pacific Railway was completed in 1885, opening out the West to all-comers.

The rise and growth of the Imperialistic spirit has been greatly influenced by the literature on the subject, which dated its commencement from Professor Seeley's Expansion of England in 1883. This was followed by an immense number of works by various writers, the chief of whom, Rudyard Kipling, has popularized the conception of Imperialism and extended its meaning:

Never was isle so little, never was sea so lone, But over the scud and the palm-trees an English flag was flown.

The Empire was not, however, to be consolidated without war and bloodshed, for relations with the two Boer Republics, the Transvaal and the Orange River, became more and more strained as years went on. The last years of the Queen's life were destined to be saddened by the outbreak of war in South Africa.

The facts which led to the outbreak were briefly these, though it is but fair to state that there are, even now, various theories current as to the causes. The discovery and opening up of the gold mines of the Transvaal had brought a stream of adventurous emigrants into the country, and it was these 'Outlanders' of whom the Dutch were suspicious. The Transvaal Government refused to admit them to equal political rights with the Dutch inhabitants. It was certain, however, that the Outlanders would never submit to be dependent on the policy of President Kruger, although the Dutch declared that they had only accepted the suzerainty of Great Britain under compulsion.

Negotiations between the two Governments led to nothing, as neither side would give way, and at last, in 1899, following upon an ultimatum demanding the withdrawal of British troops from the borders of the Republic, war broke out. It had undoubtedly been hastened by the ill-fated and ill-advised raid in 1896 of Dr Jameson, the administrator of Rhodesia.

It is scarcely necessary to review the details of this war at any length. It proved conclusively that the Government of this country had vastly underrated the resisting powers of the Boers. For three years the British army was forced to wage a guerilla warfare, and adapt itself to entirely new methods of campaigning.

On May 28, 1900, the Orange Free State was annexed under the name of the Orange River Colony. In June Lord Roberts entered Pretoria, but the war dragged on until 1902, when a Peace Conference was held and the Boer Republics became part of the British Empire. Very liberal terms were offered to and accepted by the conquered Dutch. But long before this event took place Queen Victoria had passed away. She had followed the whole course of the war with the deepest interest and anxiety, and when Lord Roberts returned to this country, leaving Lord Kitchener in command in South Africa, the Queen was desirous of hearing from his own lips the story of the campaign.

The public was already uneasy about the state of her health, and on January 20th it was announced that her condition had become serious. On Tuesday, January 22, she was conscious and recognized the members of her family watching by her bedside, but on the afternoon of the same day she peacefully passed away. One of the last wishes she expressed was that her body should be borne to rest on a gun-carriage, for she had never forgotten that she was a soldier's daughter.

On the day of the funeral the horses attached to the gun-carriage became restive, and the sailors who formed the guard of honour took their place, and drew the coffin, draped in the Union Jack, to its last resting-place.

Through the streets of London, which had witnessed two great Jubilee processions, festivals of rejoicing and thanksgiving, the funeral cortege passed, and a great reign and a great epoch in history had come to an end.



CHAPTER XV: Victoria the Great

The keynote of Queen Victoria's life was simplicity. She was a great ruler, and at the same time a simple-minded, sympathetic woman, the true mother of her people. She seemed by some natural instinct to understand their joys and their sorrows, and this was the more remarkable as for forty years she reigned alone without the invaluable advice and assistance of her husband.

Her qualities were not those which have made other great rulers famous, but they were typical of the age in which she lived.

All her life she was industrious, and never spared herself any time or trouble, however arduous and disagreeable her duties might be. She possessed the keenest sense of duty, and in dealing with men and circumstances she never failed to do or say the right thing. Her daily intercourse with the leading English statesmen of the time gave her an unrivalled knowledge of home and foreign politics. In short, her natural ability and good sense, strengthened by experience, made her what she was, a perfect model of a constitutional monarch.

During her reign the Crown once again took its proper place: no longer was there a gulf between the Ruler and the People, and Patriotism, the love of Queen and Country, became a real and living thing. Pope's adage, "A patriot is a fool in every age," could no longer be quoted with any truth.

Queen Victoria was, above all, a great lover of peace, and did all in her power for its promotion. Her personal influence was often the means of smoothing over difficulties both at home and abroad when her Ministers had aggravated instead of lessening them. She formed her own opinions and held to them, though she was always willing to listen to reason.

The Memorandum which she drew up in the year 1850 shows how firm a stand she could take when her country's peace seemed to be threatened.

Lord Palmerston, though an able Minister in many respects, was a wilful, hot-headed man, who was over-fond of acting on the spur of the moment without consulting his Sovereign. His dispatches, written as they so often were in a moment of feverish enthusiasm, frequently gave offence to foreign monarchs and statesmen, and were more than once nearly the cause of war. It was remarked of him that "the desk was his place of peril, his pen ran away with him. His speech never made an enemy, his writing has left many festering sores. The charm of manner and urbanity which so served him in Parliament and in society was sometimes wanting on paper, and good counsels were dashed with asperity."