Lord Malmesbury’s memorandum which accompanied this letter goes more into detail. Referring to the draft of which Her Majesty had disapproved, Lord Malmesbury remarks that she had specially objected to the expression that she had the “power of undermining” the Indian religions. “Her Majesty would prefer that the subject should be introduced by a declaration in the sense that the deep attachment which Her Majesty feels to her own religion, and the comfort and happiness which she derives from its consolations, will preclude her from any attempt to interfere with the native religions, and that her servants will be directed to act scrupulously in accordance with her directions.”
It is impossible to imagine a better example than this gives of the value of the influence of a truly womanly woman upon political affairs. The amended Proclamation gave great satisfaction to Lord Canning, and materially aided him in his difficult task of conciliation. He wrote:—
“To the good effect of the words in which religion is spoken of in the Proclamation, Lord Canning looks forward with very sanguine hope. It is impossible that the justice, charity, and kindliness, as well as the true wisdom which mark these words, should not be appreciated.”
If a mere handful of Englishmen are to continue to hold the two hundred millions of the various native populations of India, they cannot do so by mere brute force, but only by convincing the leaders of the people that the English Government is actuated by feelings of “justice, charity, and kindliness” towards them. The Queen’s Proclamation produced the best effect in India. The Times correspondent, writing upon it, said: “Genuineness of Asiatic feeling is always a problem, but I have little doubt it is in this instance tolerably sincere. The people understand an ‘Empress,’ and did not understand the Company;” he adds that the general opinion among the masses was “that the Queen had hanged the Company!” We have here an example of the informal use of the title “Empress,” the formal adoption of which caused so much excitement and opposition in 1876. It is possible, however, that from the time of the passing of the Government of India Act, 1858, Mr. Disraeli bore it in mind as an addition he would make to the Queen’s titles when a favorable opportunity offered. In 1858, when he was Chancellor of the Exchequer, he wrote to the Queen on the progress of the Government of India Bill through the House of Commons, and said, “But it is only the ante-chamber of an imperial palace, and your Majesty would do well to deign to consider the steps which are now necessary to influence the opinions and affect the imaginations of the Indian populations. The name of your Majesty ought to be impressed upon their native life.”
The immediate carrying out of the scheme here hinted at was rendered impossible in consequence of the change of Ministry which took place in the following year; but eighteen years later, when Disraeli was Prime Minister, he gave effect to this project as part of a large scheme for bringing home to the Sovereign and her people in every part of the world that England had ceased to be a “little world, a precious stone set in the silver sea,” and had expanded into a gigantic empire.
But the time for this had not come in 1858 and 1859, when affairs nearer home became again of engrossing interest.
The years which immediately succeeded the Crimean War are full of evidence of the growing distrust of Louis Napoleon felt by the Queen and her husband. He had succeeded at the beginning of their intercourse in producing the impression on them of perfect frankness; but by 1859 they had discovered that he was “born and bred a conspirator,” and that through all the changes and vicissitudes of life he would ever be scheming and suspicious. Their eyes must have been opened to his real character by the quality of the people by whom he was served and surrounded. Throughout France, with very few exceptions, honest men and women held aloof from him. Greville speaks of the crowd which formed his Court as being more “encanaillées” than ever. The Prince Consort saw and lamented this, and endeavored to convince him that no Sovereign could be great without the aid of great Ministers. But great Ministers were not to be had for the asking. Louis Napoleon had so little confidence in his accredited representatives that in matters of first-class importance they were set on one side, and the business was conducted by the Emperor in person. This was not astonishing, as honest men mostly declined to serve him; he had to do as best he could with inferior material, and naturally could not rely on it in moments of emergency.
Little by little the true character of Louis Napoleon was revealed to the Queen, and under these circumstances it is easy to understand that though the social intercourse between the two Sovereigns was not abruptly cut short, yet it became very constrained and uneasy. The Queen and Prince paid two visits to Cherbourg: the first was in 1857, and was entirely private and informal; the Royal couple were accompanied by six of their children, and the main object of the visit was holiday-making: but their diaries and letters contain significant observations upon the great strength of the Cherbourg fortifications, and the Queen, with her habitual openness, said it made her “very unhappy” to see the enormous strength and size of the forts; while the Prince, in more diplomatic language, says the gigantic strength of the place had given him “grave cause for reflection.” They went home very strongly impressed by the necessity of increasing our strength both by sea and land, so that it might not compare so very disadvantageously with that of our valued ally. Their second visit to Cherbourg was in the following year, 1858, and was a grand ceremonial; they were received by the Emperor and Empress in state, nine line-of-battle ships were drawn up along the breakwater, and all the ugly forts which dominate the harbor belched forth volleys of gunpowder in their honor, and also perhaps to demonstrate afresh the extent and strength of the fortifications. It does not seem to have been a gay visit; the Emperor was embarrassed, “boutonné and silent and not ready to talk” the Queen wrote, while the Prince observed, “Empress looks ill: he is out of humor.” When the inevitable time for speech-making came, and the Prince Consort had to return thanks for the toast of the Queen’s and his own health, Her Majesty writes that it was a dreadful moment, which she hoped never to have to go through again. “He did it very well, though he hesitated once. I sat shaking, with my eyes cloués sur la table.” The Emperor and Empress were both very nervous, and the Queen shook so she could not drink her coffee. The reception given to the Queen was magnificent and uncomfortable in the highest possible degree. One flight of rockets, a mere incident in a grand display of fireworks, was said to have cost 25,000 francs. From first to last, the fête was organized with regard to the highest possible degree of expense. The Queen and Prince were more than ever impressed that the strength of Cherbourg was a menace to England, and called the attention of their own Ministers, who were in attendance, to the obvious necessity for England to look more sharply to her coast and naval defences. How thankful Her Majesty must have been when the end of each day’s festivity was reached! Even in the diary the mere words form a little oasis, “At twenty minutes to ten we went below, and read and nearly finished that most interesting book, ‘Jane Eyre.’”
The alarm felt by the Queen and Prince as to the hostile intentions of Louis Napoleon towards England were fully shared by the nation. After the attempt by Orsini, early in 1858, to assassinate the Emperor by the explosion of bombs under his carriage as it was approaching the Opera House, England was accused of having harbored the conspirators, and with having thereby encouraged their crime. It was true that Orsini had come direct from England, and though this did not make England responsible for him, yet some irritation on the part of France was quite excusable. This expression of irritation, however, passed all reasonable bounds. The Emperor received a large number of addresses from Colonels in the French army congratulating him on his escape; and these addresses, which were published at full in the official organ of the French Government, were, in many instances, full of clamorous demands for war with England. One of these effusions spoke of England as “the land of impurity, which contains the haunts of monsters which are sheltered by its laws;” another requested the Emperor to give the word, and the “infamous haunt in which machinations so infernal are planned”—that is, London—“should be destroyed forever.”
England’s answer was the Volunteer movement, and the dismissal from office of Lord Palmerston’s Government, because it was believed to have been too subservient to the demands of France.