“May 1. The great event has taken place; 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.... Yes; it is a day which makes my heart swell with pride and glory and thankfulness.”
The only event with which she felt she could compare it was the coronation; “but this day’s festival was a thousand times superior.” The effect produced on her as the view of the interior burst upon her, she speaks of as—
“Magical, so vast, so glorious, so touching. One felt—as so many did whom I have since spoken to—filled with devotion, more so than by any service I have ever heard. The tremendous cheers, the joy expressed in every face, the immensity of the building ... the organ (with 200 instruments and 600 voices, which sounded like nothing), and my beloved husband the author of this ‘Peace Festival’: ... all this was moving indeed, and it was and is a day to live forever.”
It is interesting to compare this account by Her Majesty of her own emotion at the opening of the exhibition with an account of how she impressed a spectator. Dr. Stanley (afterwards Dean Stanley) wrote in a private letter:—
“I never had so good a view of the Queen before, and never saw her look so thoroughly regal. She stood in front of the chair turning round, first to one side and then to the other, with a look of power and pride, flushed with a kind of excitement which I never witnessed in any other human countenance.”
There were said to have been 34,000 people in the building on the opening day, and nearly a million on the line of route. The Queen, with her husband and eldest son and daughter, drove through this huge multitude with no other guard than one of honor and some policemen who were there, not so much to keep order as to aid the crowd to keep it for themselves. The Home Secretary reported to the Queen the next day that there had not been a single accident, nor had there been a single case of misconduct of any kind calling for the interference of the police. It was a magnificent object lesson on the advantages of order springing out of liberty. Foreigners present were deeply impressed by the good behavior of the crowd, and also by its loyalty. Jacob Ominum described a dispute he overheard between a German and a Frenchman as to whether in England loyalty was a principle or a passion. His own comment was that it was both,—a principle even when the Crown behaves badly; “but let it treat the people well, and this quiet principle becomes a headlong passion, swelling into such enthusiasm as the Frenchman saw when he jotted down in his notebook, ‘In England loyalty is a passion.’”
The Duke of Wellington shared with the Royal Family the honors of the day. He was accompanied, according to Lord Palmerston, by a running fire of applause from the men, and of waving of handkerchiefs and kissing of hands from the women. It used to be said that people went to the exhibition as much to see the Duke of Wellington,[28] who was a frequent visitor, as for any other purpose. The total number of visitors to the exhibition during the time it remained open was more than 6,000,000. An old Cornish woman, Mary Keslynack, not wishing to trust herself on a railway, walked to London to see the exhibition and the Queen. Her Majesty notes in her diary the fact that the old lady’s wish was gratified. She “was at the door to see me,—a most hale old woman, who was near crying at my looking at her.”
But this “Peace Festival” could not avert the war-cloud that was hanging over England. It is no part of the scheme of this little volume to discuss the policy of the Crimean War, but only to relate the Queen’s part in it, and her intense interest in it. Even this can only be very briefly and inadequately sketched. Some idea of the labor devolving upon a conscientious Sovereign in times of national crisis may be gathered from the fact that the papers at Windsor relating to the Eastern Question and the Crimean War, covering the period between 1853 and 1857, amount to no fewer than fifty folio volumes.
The Queen, it will be remembered, had entertained the Emperor Nicholas at Windsor in 1844, and a very favorable personal impression had been made on both sides. Nicholas had then had a conversation with Peel and Aberdeen on the condition of the “Sick Man,” as the Czar called Turkey, and the prospective disposition of his effects. The Czar and the English Ministers signed a memorandum favorable to the claims of Russia to protect Christians in Turkish dominions. Nicholas left England with the impression that he had considerably reduced the antagonism between England and Russia on the Turkish question. Aberdeen was now Prime Minister, and the Czar believed the moment to be favorable for translating into action the scheme which he had laid before the English Ministers in 1844. Moreover he was doubtless under the impression that England’s fighting days were over, and that, therefore, whether England liked the aggression of Russia in the East or not, she would never resist it by force of arms. During the negotiations which preceded the war, the Czar took the unusual course of addressing an autograph letter to the Queen, expressing surprise that any difference should have arisen between himself and the English Government, and calling upon the Queen’s “wisdom” and “good faith” to arbitrate between them. The Queen immediately sent the Czar’s letter to Lord Aberdeen, as well as a draft of her reply for his approval. Count Nesselrode was very desirous of learning from our ambassador in St. Petersburg if he knew the tenor of the Queen’s reply. He answered in the negative, but added, “These correspondences between Sovereigns are not regular according to our constitutional notions; but all I can say is, that if Her Majesty were called upon to write upon the Eastern affair, she would not require her Ministers’ assistance. The Queen understands these questions as well as they do.”
The Cabinet were by no means united in their policy. Aberdeen believed in Nicholas, and was for peace; Palmerston believed in the Turks, and was for war.[29] Clarendon was the mediator between the two. At first the Queen and her husband were decidedly sympathetic with Aberdeen’s policy. They fully acknowledged that the “ignorant, barbarian, and despotic yoke of the Mussulman” had been a curse to Europe, and agreed with Lord Aberdeen that the Turkish system was “radically vicious and inhuman.” Against this view Palmerston exerted all his strength. Little by little the war fever, fanned by him and favored by events, grew fiercer and fiercer. It spared neither the palace nor the cottage, and presently there was hardly a voice raised in England for peace except those of Bright and Cobden; and their influence was weakened by the belief that they would be against all war under all circumstances. There was a very general impression in the country that if Palmerston had been at the Foreign Office no war would have been necessary. Certainly experience forces the conviction that the peace-at-any-price party, when in power, is almost certain to land the country in war; but in this particular instance it appears probable that Palmerston, having secured the French alliance, thought the moment for fighting favorable, and therefore forced on the war; and that he would have done so equally from the Foreign Office as from the Home Office. His whole attention and interest were centred on foreign affairs, and there was an excellent understanding between him and Lord Clarendon, who was Foreign Secretary.