Palmerston really directed the foreign policy of England from the Home Office during the year which led up to the Crimean War. When the Government refused to take his view, he resigned, ostensibly because he did not like Lord John Russell’s Reform Bill; really because when the Turks refused to accept the Vienna note, the majority of the Cabinet wished to leave them to their fall. Palmerston took an exactly opposite line, and urged the entry of the allied French and English fleets into the Black Sea, which really amounted to an act of war. As soon as he got his own way he rejoined the Government. As some excuse was necessary to the outer world, he had said he was not prepared to sit out debates on the Reform Bill in the House of Commons at “his time of life.” Clarendon said that no one had ever before heard him acknowledge that he had a time of life.
The Queen went heartily with Palmerston in his war policy. She was convinced of the justice of the Russian War, and that it could not have been avoided. Her intense interest in its progress will be described in the coming chapter. It is sufficient here to say that her former feeling of hostility to Palmerston was very much softened by seeing the whole-hearted devotion with which he threw himself into the success of the British arms. As is well known, the events of the war made Palmerston Prime Minister. She gave him her entire confidence in that capacity. On the signing of the Treaty of Peace in April, 1856, she bestowed upon him the Order of the Garter, as a special and public token of her appreciation of his zealous and able services to his country.
There was no love lost between Palmerston and Lord John Russell. In 1857-58, there was great uneasiness in the ranks of the Whigs, lest these two should never be able to overcome their mutual hostility. Lady William Russell said of them at this time, “They have shaken hands and embraced, and hate each other more than ever.” However, by degrees the stronger nature dominated the weaker, and from 1859 till 1865, when Palmerston died, Lord John may be said to have danced to Palmerston’s piping.
[25] Letter from the Queen to Lord John Russell, Nov. 21st, 1851.
If the Devil has a son,
Sure his name is Palmerston.
[27] See letter from Lord Palmerston to Lord Clarendon, vol. ii. p. 127, Ashley’s “Life of Palmerston.”
CHAPTER XIII.
PEACE AND WAR.
The year 1851 was memorable to the Queen, for it brought the opening of the Great Exhibition, the crown of success to prolonged efforts made by the Prince against all kinds of opposition and misrepresentation. When first the project was mooted, hardly any one had a good word to say for it. Members of Parliament in the House of Commons prayed that hail and lightning might be sent from heaven to destroy it; it was bound to be a financial failure; it would ruin Hyde Park; it would bring into London every desperado and bad character in Europe. Its actual success was beyond all anticipation, and was only heightened by the croaking which had preceded it. The Queen’s delight knew no bounds, for she felt not only that the whole thing was a magnificent success, but that it was owing to the Prince that it was so, and therefore was of the nature of a personal triumph for him. The Queen wrote about the opening ceremony as “the great and glorious first of May, the proudest and happiest day ... of my happy life.” In her journal she wrote:—