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QUREN VICTORIA
^ HISTORY
OF
OUE OWN TIMES
FROM THE ACCESSION OF QUEEN VICTORIA TO
â– * THE GENERAL ELECTION OF 1880
By JUSTUS" McCAETHY
AUTHOR OF "the WATERDALE NEIGHBORS" " MY ENEMY'S DAUGHTER" Eia
IN THREE VOLUMES
Vol. I.
WITH AN APPENDIX OF EVENTS TO THE END OF 1886
NEW YORK AND LONDON
HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS
1903
II A
SSO
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V- 1
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CONTENTS OF VOL. I.
M 3 §r g
9^2.0 SI M I 2.
OHJLPTKR FAOl
I. The King is Dead ! Long Live the Queen ! 5
II. Statesmen and Parties 21
III. Canada and Lord Durham 36
IV. Science and Speed 58
V. Chartism 70
VI. Question de Jupons 88
VII. The Queen's Marriage 98
VIII. The Opium War 113
IX. Decline and Fall of the Whig Ministry 134
X. Movements in the Churches 139
XI. The Disasters of Cabul 151
XII. The Repeal Year 183
XIII. Peel's Administration 203
XIV. Free-trade and the League 216
XV. Famine forces Peel's Hand 240
XVI. Mr. Disraeli 256
XVII. Famine, Commercial Trouble, and Foreign In-
trigue 275
XVIII. Chartism and Young Ireland 291
XIX. Don Pacifico 317
XX. The Ecclesiastical Titles Bill 339
XXI. The Exhibition in Hyde Park 358
XXII. Palmerston 371
XXIII. Birth of the Empire; Death of "The Duke".. 399
XXIV. Mr. Gladstone 423
XXV. The Eastern Question 433
XXVI. Where was Lord Palmerston ? 463
XXVII. The Invasion op the Crimea 485
XXVIII. The Close op the War 505
XXIX. The Literature op the Reign. First Survey. . . 634
ILLUSTRATIONS
QUEEN VICTORIA. Frontispiece
LORD MELBOURNE Facing page 24
76
98
136
142
192
212
232
276
354
362
444
510
524
554
EARL RUSSELL
PRINCE ALBERT
WILLIAM EWART GLADSTONE (1843)
SIR ROBERT PEEL
DUKE OF WELLINGTON ....
THOMAS CARLYLE
JOHN BRIGHT
DANIEL O'CONNELL
EARL OP DERBY
WILLIAM MAKEPIECE THACKERAY
SIDNEY SMITH
MATTHEW ARNOLD
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH ....
CHARLOTTE BRONTE . , , . .
A HISTORY
OP
OUR O^iSTN TIM^ES
CHAPTER I.
THE KING IS DEAD ! LONG LIVE THE QUEEN !
Before half-past two o'clock on the morning of June 20th,
1837, William IV. was lying dead in Windsor Castle, while
the messengers were already hurrying off to Kensington
Palace to bear to his successor her summons to the throne.
The illness of the King had been but short, and at one time,
even after it had been pronounced alarming, it seemed to
take so hopeful a turn that the physicians began to think it
would pass harmlessly away. But the King was an old man
— was an old man even when he came to the throne — and
when the dangerous symptoms again exhibited themselves,
their warning was very soon followed by fulfilment. The
death of King William may be fairly regarded as having
closed an era of our history. With him, we may believe,
ended the reign of personal government in England. Wil-
liam was, indeed, a constitutional king in more than mere
name. He was to the best of his lights a faithful represent-
ative of the constitutional principle. He was as far in ad-
vance of his two predecessors in understanding and accept-
ance of the principle as his successor has proved herself be-
yond him. Constitutional government has developed itself
gradually, as everything else has done in English politics.
The written principle and code of its system it would be as
vain to look for as for the British Constitution itself. King
William still held to and exercised the right to dismiss his
ministers when he pleased, and because he pleased. His fa-
6 A HISTORY OF OUR OWN TIMES.
ther had held to the riorht of maintaininsc favorite ministers
in defiance of repeated votes of the House of Commons. It
would not be easy to find any written rule or declaration of
constitutional law pronouncing decisively that either was in
the wrong. But in our day we should believe that the con-
stitutional freedom of England was outraged, or at least put
in the extremest danger, if a sovereign were to dismiss a
ministry at mere pleasure, or to retain it in spite of the ex-
pressed wish of the House of Commons. Virtually, there-
fore, there was still personal government in the reign of
William IV. With his death the long chapter of its history
came to an end. We find it difficult now to believe that it
was a living principle, openly at work among us, if not open-
ly acknowledged, so lately as in the reign of King William.
The closing^ scenes of Kino; William's life were undoubted
ly characterized by some personal dignity. As a rule, sover-
eigns show that they know how to die. Perhaps the neces-
sary consequence of their training, by virtue of which they
come to regard themselves always as the central figures in
great State pageantry, is to make them assume a manner of
dignity on all occasions when t])e eyes of their subjects may
be supposed to be on them, even if the dignity of bearing is
not the free gift of nature. The manners of William IV.
had been, like those of most of his brothers, somewhat rough
and overbearing:. He had been an unmanaQ-eable naval
~ CI?
officer. He had again and again disregarded or disobeyed
orders, and at last it had been found convenient to with-
draw him from active service altogether, and allow him to
rise through the successive ranks of his profession by a
merely formal and technical process of ascent. In his more
private capacity he had, when younger, indulged more than
once in unseemly and insufferable freaks of temper. He
had made himself unpopular, while Duke of Clarence, by his
strenuous opposition to some of the measures which were
especially desired by all the enlightenment of the country.
He was, for example, a determined opponent of the meas-
ures for the abolition of the slave-trade. He had wrancrled
publicly, in open debate, with some of his brothers in the
House of Lords ; and words had been interchanged among
the royal princes which could not be heard in our day even
in the hottest debates of the more turbulent House of Com-
THE KING IS dead! LONG LIVE THE QUEEN ! 7
mons. But William seems to have been one of the men
whom increased responsibility improves. He was far bet-
ter as a king than as a prince. He proved that he was able
at least to understand that first duty of a constitutional sov-
ereign which, to the last day of his active life, his father,
George IH., never could be brought to comprehend — that
the personal predilections and prejudices of the King must
sometimes give way to the public interest.
Nothing perhaps in life became him like to the leaving of
it. His closing days were marked by gentleness and kindly
consideration for the feelings of those around him. When
he awoke on June 18th he remembered that it was the anni-
versary of the battle of Waterloo. He expressed a strong
pathetic wish to live over that day, even if he were never to
see another sunset. He called for the flasj which the Duke
of Wellington always sent him on that anniversary, and he
laid his hand upon the eagle which adorned it, and said he
felt revived by the touch. He had himself attended, since
his accession, the Waterloo banquet ; but this time the Duke
of Wellington thought it would perhaps be more seemly to
have the dinner put off, and sent accordingly to take the
wishes of his Majesty. The King declared that the dinner
must go on as usual, and sent to the Duke a friendly, simple
message expressing his hope that the guests might have a
pleasant day. He talked in his homely way to those about
him, his direct language seeming to acquire a sort of tragic
dignity from the approach of the death that was so near.
He had prayers read to him again and again, and called
those near him to witness that he had always been a faith-
ful believer in the truths of religion. He had his despatch-
boxes brought to him, and tried to get through some busi-
ness with his private secretary. It was remarked with some
interest that the last official act he ever performed was to
sign with his trembling hand the pardon of a condemned
criminal. Even a far nobler reign than his would have re-
ceived new dignity if it closed with a deed of mercy.
When some of those around him endeavored to encourage
him with the idea that he might recover and live many
years yet, he declared, with a simplicity which had some-
thing oddly pathetic in it, that he would be willing to live
ten years yet for the sake of the country. The poor King
8 A HISTORY OF OUR OWN TIMES.
was evidently under the sincere conviction that England
could hardly get on without him. His consideration for his
country, whatever whimsical thoughts it may suggest, is en-
titled to some, at least, of the respect which we give to the
dying groan of a Pitt or a Mirabeau, who fears with too
much reason that he leaves a blank not easily to be filled.
"Young royal tarry -breeks" William had been jocularly
called by Robert Burns fifty years before, when there was
yet a popular belief that he would come all right and do
brilliant and gallant things, and become a stout sailor in
whom a seafaring nation might feel pride. He disappoint-
ed all such expectations ; but it must be owned that when
responsibility came upon him he disappointed expectation
anew in a different way, and was a better sovereign, more
deserving of the complimentary title of patriot -king, than
even his friends would have ventured to anticipate.
There were eulogies pronounced upon him after his death
in both Houses of Parliament, as a matter of course. It is
not necessary, however, to set down to mere court homage
or parliamentary form some of the praises that were be-
stowed on the dead King by Lord Melbourne and Lord
Brougham and Lord Grey. A certain tone of sincerity, not
quite free, perhaps, from surprise, appears to run through
some of these expressions of admiration. They seem to say
that the speakers were at one time or another considerably
surprised to find that, after all, William really was able and
willing on grave occasions to subordinate his personal lik-
ings and dislikings to considerations of State policy, and to
what was shown to him to be for the s;ood of the nation.
In this sense at least he may be called a patriot-king. We
have advanced a good deal since that time, and we require
somewhat liigher and more positive qualities in a sovereign
now to excite our political wonder. But we must judge
William by the reigns that went before, and not the reign
that came after him ; and, with that consideration borne in
mind, we may accept the panegyric of Lord Melbourne and
of Lord Grey, and admit that on the wliole he was better
than his education, his early opportunities, and his early
promise.
William IV. (third son of George III.) had left no children
who could have succeeded to the throne, and the crown
THE KING IS dead! LONG LIVE THE QUEEN ! 9
passed, therefore, to the daughter of his brother (fourth son
of George), the Duke of Kent. This was the Princess Al-
exandrina Victoria, who was born at Kensinijjton Palace on
/ CD
May 24th, 1819. The Princess was, therefore, at this time lit-
tle more than eighteen years of age. The Duke of Kent died"
a few months after the birth of his daughter, and the child
was brought up under the care of his widow. She was well
brought up: both as regards her intellect and her character
her training was excellent. She was taught to be self-reli-
ant, brave, and systematical. Prudence and economy were
inculcated on her as though she had been born to be poor.
One is not generally inclined to attach much importance
to what historians tell us of the education of contempora-
ry princes or princesses ; but it cannot be doubted that the
Princess Victoria was trained for intelligence and goodness.
"The death of the King of England has everywhere
caused the greatest sensation. . . . Cousin Victoria is said
to have shown astonishing self-possession. She undertakes
a heavy responsibility, especially at the present moment,
when parties are so excited, and all rest their hopes on her."
These words are an extract from a letter written on July
4th, 1837, by the late Prince Albert, the Prince Consort of so
many happy years. The letter was written to the Prince's
father, from Bonn. The young Queen had, indeed, behaved
with remarkable self-possession. There is a pretty descrip-
tion, which has been often quoted, but will bear citing once
more, given by Miss Wynn, of the manner in which the
young sovereign received the news of her accession to a
throne. The Archbishop of Canterbury, Dr. Howley, and
the Lord Chamberlain, the Marquis of Conyngham, left Wind-
sor for Kensington Palace, w here the Princess Victoria had
been residino^, to inform her of the Kino-'s death. It was
two hours after midnight when they started, and they did
not reach Kensin2:ton until five o'clock in the mornins^.
^5 Cj
"They knocked, they rang, they thumped for a considerable
time before they could rouse the porter at the gate ; they
were again kept waiting in the court-yard, then turned into
one of the lower rooms, where they seemed forgotten by ev-
erybody. They rang the bell, and desired that the attend-
ant of the Princess Victoria might be sent to inform her
Royal Highness that they requested an audience on business
10 A HISTORY OF OUR OWN TIMES.
of importance. After another delay, and another ringing to
inquire the cause, the attendant was summoned, who stated
that the Princess was in such a sweet sleep that she could
not venture to disturb her. Then they said, " We are come
on business of state to the Queen, and even her sleep must
give way to that." It did; and to prove that she did not
keep them waiting, in a few minutes she came into the room
in a loose white night-gown and shawl, her nightcap thrown
off, and her hair falling upon her shoulders, her feet in slip-
pers, tears in her eyes, but perfectly collected and dignified."
The Prime-minister, Lord Melbourne, was presently sent for,
and a meeting of the privy council summoned for eleven
o'clock, when the Lord Chancellor administered the usual
oaths to the Queen, and her Majesty received in return the
oaths of allegiance of the cabinet ministers and other privy
councillors present. Mr. Greville, who was usually as little
disposed to record any enthusiastic admiration of royalty
and royal personages as Humboldt or Varnhagen von Ense
could have been, has described the scene in words well
worthy of quotation;
"The King died at twenty minutes after two yesterday
morning, and the young Queen met the council at Kensing-
ton Palace at eleven. Never was anything like the first
impression she produced, or the chorus of praise and ad-
miration which is raised about her manner and behavior,
and certainly not without justice. It was very extraordi-
nary, and something far beyond what was looked for. Her
extreme youth and inexperience, and the ignorance of the
world concerning her, naturally excited intense curiosity to
see how she would act on this trying occasion, and thercv
was a considerable assemblage at the palace, notwithstand-
ing the short notice which was given. The first thing to
be done was to teach her her lesson, which, for this purpose,
Melbourne had himself to learn. . . . She bowed to the
lords, took her seat, and then read her speech in a clear, dis-
tinct, and audible voice, and without any appearance of
fear or embarrassment. She was quite plainly dressed, and
in mourning. After she had read lier speech, and taken and
signed the oath for the security of the Church of Scotland,
the privy councillors were sworn, the two royal dukes first
by themselves; and as these two old men, her uncles, knelt
THE KING IS dead! LONG LIVE THE QUEEN I 11
before her, swearing allegiance and kissing her hand, I saw
her blush up to the eyes, as if she felt the contrast between
their civil and their natural relations, and this was the only
sisfn of emotion which she evinced. Her manner to them
was very graceful and engaging ; she kissed them both, and
rose from her chair and moved toward the Duke of Sussex,
who was farthest from her, and too infirm to reach her. She
seemed rather bewildered at the multitude of men who were
sworn, and who came, one after another, to kiss her hand,
but she did not speak to anybody, nor did she make the
slightest difference in her manner, or show any in her coun-
tenance, to any individual of any rank, station, or party. I
particularly watched her when Melbourne and the ministers,
and the Duke of Wellington and Peel approached her. She
went through the whole ceremony, occasionally looking at
Melbourne for instruction w'hen she had any doubt what to
do, which hardly ever occurred, and with perfect calmness
and self-possession, but at the same time with a graceful
modesty and propriety particularly interesting and ingra-
tiatins:."
in?
Sir Robert Peel told Mr. Greville that he was amazed at
"her manner and behavior, at her apparent deep sense of
her situation, and at the same time her firmness." The
Duke of Wellington said in his blunt way that if she had
been his own daughter he could not have desired to see her
perform her part better. "At tw^elve," says Mr, Greville,
"she held a council, at which she presided with as much
ease as if she had been doing nothing else all her life ; and
though Lord Lansdowne and my colleague had contrived,
between them, to make some confusion with the council pa-
pers, she was not put out by it. She looked very well ; and
though so small in stature, and without much pretension to
beauty, the gracefulness of her manner and the good ex-
pression of her countenance give her, on the whole, a very
agreeable appearance, and, with her youth, inspire an exces-
sive interest in all who approach her, and which I can't help
feeling myself ... In short, she appears to act with every
sort of good taste and good feeling, as well as good sense;
and, as far as it has gone, nothing can be more favorable
than the impression she has made, and nothing can promise
better than her manner and conduct do; though," Mr. Gre-
12 A HISTORY OF OUR OWN TIMES.
ville somewhat superfluously adds, "it would be rash to
count too confidently upon her judgment and discretion in
more weighty matters."
The interest or curiosity with which the demeanor of the
young Queen was watched was all the keener because the
world in general knew so little about her. Not merely was
the world in general thus ignorant, but even the statesmen
and officials in closest communication with court circles were
in almost absolute ignorance. According to Mr. Greville,
whose authority, however, is not to be taken too implicitly
except as to matters which he actually saw% the young Queen
had been previously kept in such seclusion by her mother
— "never," he says, "having slept out of her bedroom, nor
been alone with anybody but herself and the Baroness Leh-
zen " — that "not one of her acquaintance, none of the at-
tendants at Kensington, not even the Duchess of Northum-
berland, her governess, have any idea what she is or what
she promises to be." There w^as enough in the court of the
two sovereigns who went before Queen Victoria to justify
any strictness of seclusion which the Duchess of Kent might
desire for her daughter. George IV. was a Charles II. with-
out the education or the talents; William IV. was a Fred-
erick William of Prussia without the genius. The ordinarj'-
manners of the society at the court of either had a full fla-
vor, to put it in the softest w^ay, such as a decent tap-room
"w^ould hardly exhibit in a time like the present. No one
can read even the most favorable descriptions given by con-
temporaries of the manners of those two courts without feel-
ing grateful to the Duchess of Kent for resolving that her
daughter should see as little as possible of their ways and
their company.
It was remarked with some interest that the Queen sub-
scribed herself simply " Victoria," and not, as had been ex-
pected, "Alexandrina Victoria." Mr. Greville mentions in
his diary of December 24th, 1819, that "the Duke of Kent
gave the name of Alexandrina to his daughter in compli-
ment to the Emperor of Russia. She w^as to have had the
name of Georgiana, but the Duke insisted upon Alexandrina
being her first name. The Regent sent for Lieven " (the
Russian ambassador, husband of the famous Princess de Lie-
ven), "and made him a great nianv compliments, 6/i leper-
THE KING IS dead! LONG LIVE THE QUEEN ! 13
siflant, on the Emperor's being godfather, but informed him
that the name of Georgiana could be second to no other in
this country, and therefore she could not bear it at all." It
was a very wise choice to employ simply the name of Vic-
toria, around which no ungenial associations of any kind
hung at that time, and which can have only grateful asso-
ciations in the history of this country for the future.
It is not necessary to go into any formal description of
the various ceremonials and pageantries which celebrated
the accession of the new sovereign. The proclamation of
the Queen, her appearance for the first time on the throne
in the House of Lords when she prorogued Parliament in
person, and even the gorgeous festival of her coronation,
which took place on June 28th, in the following year, 1838,
may be passed over with a mere word of record. It is
worth mentioning, however, that at the coronation proces-
sion one of the most conspicuous figures was that of Marshal
Soult, Duke of Dalmatia, the opponent of Moore and Wel-
linirton in the Peninsula, the commander of the Old Guard
at Liitzen, and one of the strong arms of Napoleon at Wa-
terloo. Soult had been sent as ambassador-extraordinary
to represent the French Government and people at the cor-
onation of Queen Victoria, and nothing could exceed the en-
thusiasm with which he was received by the crowds in the
streets of London on that day. The white-haired soldier
was cheered wherever a glimpse of his face or figure could
be caught. He appeared in the procession in a carriage, the
frame of which had been used on occasions of state by some
of the Princes of the House of Conde, and which Soult had
had splendidly decorated for the ceremony of the corona-
tion. Even the Austrian ambassador, says an eye-witness,
attracted less attention than Soult, although the dress of
the Austrian, Prince Esterhazy, "down to his very boot-
heels, sparkled with diamonds." The comparison savors now
of the ridiculous, but is remarkably expressive and eflTective.
Prince Esterhazy's name in those days suggested nothing
but diamonds. His diamonds may be said to glitter through
all the light literature of the time. When Lady Mary Wort-
ley Montagu wanted a comparison with which to illustrate
excessive splendor and brightness, she found it in "Mr.
Pitt's diamonds." Prince Esterhazy's served the same pur-
14 A HISTORY OF OUR OWN TIMES.
pose for the writers of the early years of the present reign.
It was, therefore, perhaps, no very poor tribute to the stout
old moustache of the Republic and the Empire to say that
at a London pageant his war-worn face drew attention away
from Prince Esterhazy's diamonds. Soult himself felt very
warmly the genuine kindness of the reception given to him.
Years after, in a debate in the French Chamber, when M.
Guizot was accused of too much partiality for the English
alliance. Marshal Soult declared himself a warm champion
of that alliance. "I fought the English down to Toulouse,"
he said, " when I fired the last cannon in defence of the na-
tional independence ; in the mean time I have been in Lon-
don, and France knows the reception which I had there.
The English themselves cried *Vive Soult!* — they cried
* Soult forever !' I had learned to estimate the Ensflish on
the field of battle ; I have learned to estimate them in peace ;
and I repeat that I am a warm partisan of the English alli-
ance." History is not exclusively made by cabinets and
professional diplomatists. It is highly probable that the
cheers of a London crowd on the day of the Queen's corona-
tion did something genuine and substantial to restore the
good feeling between this country and France, and efface
the bitter memories of Waterloo.
It is a fact well worthy of note, amidst whatever records
of court ceremonial and of political change, that a few days
after the accession of the Queen, Mr. Montefiore was elected
Sheriff of London, the first Jew who had ever been chosen
for that office ; and that he received knighthood at the