After their return to Balmoral, the Prince wrote: "We should be happy here were it not for that horrible Eastern complication. A European war would be a terrible calamity. It will not do to give up all hope; still, what we have is small."
It daily grew smaller, as the war-clouds thickened and darkened in the political sky. During those troublous times, when some men's hearts were failing them for fear, and some men's were madly panting for the fray, asking nothing better than to see the Lion of England pitted against the Bear of Russia, the Prince was in some quarters most violently and viciously assailed, as a designing, dangerous "influence behind the throne"—treacherous to England, and so to England's Queen. So industriously was this monstrous slander spread abroad, that the story went, and by some simple souls was believed, that "the blameless Prince" had been arrested for high treason, and lodged in the Tower! Some had it that he had gone in through the old Traitors' Grate, and that they were furbishing up the old axe and block for his handsome head! Then the rumor ran that the Queen had also been arrested, and was to be consigned to the grim old fortress, or that she insisted on going with her husband and sharing his dungeon. Thousands of English. people actually assembled about the Tower to see them brought in,—and yet this was not on All- Fools' Day.
Poor Baron Stockmar was also suspected of dark political intrigues and practices detrimental to the peace and honor of England. He was, in fact, accused of being a spy and a conspirator—which was absurdity itself. He was, it seems to me, a high-minded, kindly old man, a political philosopher and moralist—rather opinionated always, and at times a little patronizing towards his royal pupils; but if they did not object to this, it was no concern of other people. He certainly had a shrewd, as well as a philosophic mind—was a sagacious "clerk of the weather" in European politics,—and I suppose a better friend man or woman never had than the Prince and the Queen found in this much distrusted old German Baron.
Though Prince Albert wrote at this time about having "a world of torment," he really took matters very patiently and philosophically. In the devotion of his wife, in the affection of his children, in his beloved organ, "the only instrument," he said, "for expressing one's feelings," he found consolation and peace. He wrote,—"Victoria has taken the whole affair greatly to heart, and is excessively indignant at the attacks." But a triumphant refutation, in both Houses of Parliament, of all these slanders, consoled her much; and on the anniversary of her marriage she was able to write—"This blessed day is full of joyful and tender emotions. Fourteen happy years have passed, and I confidently trust many more will pass, and find us in old age, as we are now, happily and devotedly united! Trials we must have; but what are they if we are together?"
In March, 1854, the Queen and Prince went to Osborne to visit the magnificent fleet of vessels which had been assembled at Spithead. Her Majesty wrote to Lord Aberdeen—"We are just starting to see the fleet, which is to sail at once for its important destination. It will be a solemn moment! Many a heart will be very heavy, and many a prayer, including our own, will be offered up for its safety and glory!"
Ah! when those beautiful ships went sailing away, with their white sails spread, and the royal colors flying, death sat "up aloft," instead of the "sweet little cherub" popularly supposed to be perched there, and winds from the long burial-trenches of the battle-field played among the shrouds.
King Frederick William of Prussia seemed to think that he could put an end to this little unpleasantness, and wrote a long letter to the Queen of England, paternally advising her to make some concessions to the Emperor of Russia, which concessions she thought would be weak and unworthy. Her reply reveals her characteristic high courage. One quotation, which she makes from Shakspeare, is admirable:
"Beware
Of entrance to a quarrel; but being in,
Bear't, that the opposed may beware,
of thee."
Still, as we look back, it does seem as though with the wit of the Queen, the wisdom of Prince Albert, the philosophy of Baron Stockmar,—the philanthropy of Exeter Hall, and the piety of the Bench of Bishops, some sort of peaceful arrangement might have been effected, and the Crimean war left out of history. But then we should not have had the touching picture of the lion and the unicorn charging on the enemy together, not for England or France, but all for poor Turkey; and Mr. Tennyson could not have written his "Charge of the Light Brigade," which would have been a great loss to elocutionists. There were in Parliament a few poor- spirited economists and soft-hearted humanitarians who would fain have prevented that mighty drain of treasure and of the best blood of England- holding, with John Bright, that this war was "neither just nor necessary"; but they were "whistling against the wind." There was one rich English quaker, with a heart like a tender woman's and a face like a cherub's, who actually went over to Russia to labor with "friend Nicholas" against this war. All in vain! the Czar was deeply moved, of course, but would not give in, or give up.
On the 3d of March the Queen went to Parliament to receive the address of both Houses in answer to her message which announced the opening of the war. On this important occasion the young Prince of Wales took a place for the first time with his mother and father on the throne. He looked taller and graver than usual. His heart glowed with martial fire. His voice, too, if he had been allowed to speak, would have been all for war. A few days before this, the Queen, after seeing off the first division of troops for the Baltic, had so felt the soldier-blood of her father tingling in her veins, that she wrote: "I am very enthusiastic about my dear army and navy, and I wish I had two sons in both now." But in later years the widowed Queen is said to have been not eager to have any of her sons, his sons, peril their lives in battle.