The speech made by Sir Robert Peel in this debate proved his last. It was daylight on Saturday morning, June 29, when he left the house of parliament, much fatigued. He could take only a short repose, for by twelve he had to attend a meeting of the Royal Commissioners of the Great Industrial Exhibition, and it was important that he should be present, because a dispute had arisen with regard to the site of the building. Hyde Park had been selected; but serious objections had been raised, and Peel's influence was so great that Prince Albert depended upon him to remove them. Therefore, though worn out with fatigue, he had to attend the meeting; and afterwards he set out for a short ride in the park, thinking the fresh air and exhilarating exercise would invigorate him. He called at Buckingham Palace, and wrote his name in the queen's visiting-book. As he was riding up Constitution Hill his horse suddenly shied and threw him. Peel clung to the bridle, and the animal fell with its knees on his shoulders. His injuries were so great that after lingering between delirium and consciousness for three days he died.
Never was a statesman more sincerely mourned. When announcing his death to the Duchess-dowager of Saxe-Coburg, the prince wrote: "We have lost our truest friend and trustiest counsellor, the throne its most valiant defender, the country its most open-minded and greatest statesman."
The queen wrote: "Peel is to be buried to-day. The sorrow and grief at his death are most touching, and the country mourns over him as over a father."
A warm tribute was paid to his memory by the Duke of Wellington in one house of parliament, and by Mr. Gladstone, in the other. "In all the course of my acquaintance with Sir Robert Peel," said the aged duke, "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 a 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." Parliament desired to show their respect for the memory of Peel by burying his remains with public honors. This was proposed by Lord John Russell, but it was found that the great statesman had particularly requested in his will that his remains should be placed beside those of his parents at Drayton Bassett. A monument in Westminster Abbey was therefore substituted at the public expense. The offer of a peerage was made to Lady Peel, but she declined, saying, "that she desired to bear no other name than that by which Sir Robert Peel was known." At the same time she stated that her husband's wish, recorded in his will, had been that none of his family should ever accept any title, distinction, or reward on account of any service he might be supposed to have rendered his country. Peel earnestly desired that if his sons were to bear titles and distinctions given them by the state, they should win them by their own services and worth, and not simply put them on as an inheritance from their father.
On the twenty-sixth Prince Albert celebrated his birthday quietly at Osborne, surrounded by his family. It was, however, a day of mourning; for just before dinner news was brought of the death of King Louis Philippe. Two days later the queen and prince paid a visit to the afflicted family, and then proceeded by rail to Edinburgh. They were met at the station by the Duke of Buccleuch, at the head of the Royal Archers, who formed a body-guard, and accompanied the carriage to Holyrood Palace. This was the first time a queen had entered the old building since poor Mary Stuart had left it.
"We wandered out to look at the old ruined abbey, which adjoins the palace," says the queen's diary, "and which you see from our windows. It is beautiful inside. One of the aisles is still roofed in, but the others are not. It was originally an abbey, and the very old tombstones are those of the friars. It was afterwards the Chapel Royal, and Queen Mary, my unfortunate ancestress, was married to Lord Darnley at this very altar, of which we see the remains. We saw the rooms where Queen Mary lived, her bed, the dressing-room into which the murderers entered who killed Rizzio, and the spot where he fell."
The next day the prince laid the corner-stone of the National Gallery, which is now one of the finest buildings in the city of Edinburgh. Thousands of people attended the ceremony, and the prince's speech was most satisfactory.
Scarcely had the court returned to Osborne from Scotland when news was brought of the death of the Queen of the Belgians. Although this sad event was not unexpected, it was a source of deep grief to Queen Victoria, who had loved her aunt devotedly. The two ladies were nearly allied in age, rank, sympathy, and culture, and they had been friends and confidants for many years.
Great excitement was occasioned in the autumn by the pope's issue of a bull, directing the establishment in England of bishops to bear the title of their sees. This was offensive, because the crown had maintained the right to bestow such titles. It was an assumption of power on the part of the pope that produced an outburst of passion such as has seldom been witnessed in England. The queen was indignant, the prime minister lost his temper, and wrote a letter that gave great offense to the Roman Catholics. Long, fierce debates followed the opening of parliament, and the "Ecclesiastical-Titles Bill" occupied the attention of its members for many months. Lord John Russell resigned, and was invited back to his post; the bill was wrangled over, and caused much bitterness of feeling, and then died a natural death. Both Catholics and Protestants found that they had made a mountain out of a mole-hill, and that time and temper had been wasted, and both blushed for their lack of dignity and tolerance.
A.D. 1851. The attention of the nation was next turned towards the great International Exhibition, which opened on the first of May, in Hyde Park. Similar exhibitions have taken place since, and superior ones, but the one projected by Prince Albert was the first,—therefore the most remarkable. Two days before the opening of the exhibition the queen made a private visit to the building. We quote from her diary: "We remained two hours and a half, and I came back quite beaten, and my head bewildered, from the myriads of beautiful and wonderful things which now quite dazzle one's eyes! such efforts have been made, and our people have shown such taste in their manufactures! All owing to this great exhibition and to Albert,—all to him! We went up into the gallery and the sight from there, with the numerous courts full of all sorts of objects of art and manufacture, is quite marvellous. The noise was overpowering, for so much was going on everywhere, and from twelve to twenty thousand people engaged in arranging all sorts of things.