During the greater part of the Session of 1851 the English people, to use a phrase of Mr. Disraeli’s, “were not up to politics.” It was the year of the marvellous World’s Fair, or Great International Exhibition, and the keen interest which it aroused diverted public attention from Ministerial blundering. But though the interest of the country in the Exhibition was strong, it was feeble compared with that which the Queen and Prince Albert took in it. In spring, when the Court returned to London, the Prince concentrated all his energies on the labour of organising the arrangements for the opening of the Crystal Palace. All through March and April he worked night and day, undaunted by the carping criticisms of those who predicted that the direst calamities would spring from the Exhibition. These foolish persons asserted that the Exhibition Commissioners were simply organising a foreign invasion of London. To attract to the capital dense crowds of foreigners, they declared, would lead to riot, to the spread of revolutionary doctrines, to the introduction of pestilence and of foreign forms of immorality, and to the ruin of British trade, the secrets of which would be revealed to our competitors in the markets of the world. Colonel Sibthorp, in the Debate on the Address, actually implored Heaven to destroy the Crystal Palace by hail or lightning, and others declared that the Queen would most surely be assassinated by some foreign conspirators, on the opening day of the great show.
The diplomatic body in London also behaved churlishly to the promoters of the scheme, arguing that foreigners, by coming in contact with the democratic institutions of England, would lose their taste for Absolutism. When Prince Albert proposed that the Ambassadors should have an opportunity of taking part in the proceedings by presenting an Address to the Queen, M. Van de Weyer, as senior member of the diplomatic body in London, privately asked the opinion of his colleagues on the subject. They all gave their assent with one exception, Baron Brunnow, who was “not at home” when M. Van de Weyer called on him. But at a meeting of the diplomatic body it was decided by a majority of them not to present any Address to her Majesty. This decision was arrived at mainly by the influence of Brunnow, who said he could not permit the Russian nation or people to be mentioned in an Address of this kind. He was also jealous of allowing M. Van de Weyer or any other Ambassador to speak for the Russian Government. The Queen was chagrined at this incivility, and instructed M. Van de Weyer to tell his colleagues that of course she could not compel them “to accept a courtesy which anywhere else would be looked on as a favour.” Brunnow, however, held out. In the end it was agreed that the Ambassadors should present no Address, but merely be formally presented to the Queen at the opening function, and, having bowed, that they should file away to the side of the platform, where they certainly did not cut an imposing figure during the ceremony of inauguration.
SIR JOSEPH PAXTON.
On the 29th of April the Queen made a private visit to the Exhibition, and returned from it saying that her eyes were positively dazzled with “the myriads of beautiful things” which met her view. Though some of the Royal Family, like the Duke of Cambridge, were afraid that there might be a riot on the opening day, the Queen was not affected in the least by their warnings, asserting that she had the completest faith in the good sense, good humour, and chivalrous loyalty of her people. Nor was this confidence misplaced. On the day of the opening, she was received with passionate demonstrations of loyal enthusiasm from the crowds, amounting in the aggregate to about 700,000 persons, who came forth to see her pass. As for those who entered the building, they seemed awestruck with astonishment at the brilliant scene, radiant with life and colour, which lay before their eyes. At half-past eleven on the 1st of May the Royal cortège left the Palace, and filed along in a stately procession through the enormous crowds who swarmed in the Green Park and in Hyde Park. “A little rain fell,” writes the Queen, “just as we started, but before we came near the Crystal Palace the sun shone and gleamed upon the gigantic edifice, upon which the flags of all the nations were floating. We drove up Rotten Row, and got out at the entrance on that side. The glimpse of the transept through the iron gates, the waving palms, flowers, statues, myriads of people filling the galleries and seats around, gave us a sensation which I can never forget, and I felt much moved. We went for a moment to a little side room, where we left our shawls, and where we found Maria and Mary [now Princess of Teck], and outside which were standing the other Princes. In a few seconds we proceeded, Albert leading me, having Vicky at his right hand and Bertie [Prince of Wales] holding mine.... The tremendous cheers, the joy expressed in every face, the immensity of the building, the mixture of palms, flowers, trees, statues, fountains, the organ (with 200 instruments and 600 voices, which sounded like nothing), and my beloved husband, the author of this ‘Peace-Festival,’ which united the industry of all nations of the earth—all this was moving indeed, and it was and is a day to live for ever.”[39] When the National Anthem had been sung, Prince Albert, at the head of the Commissioners, read their Report to the Queen. She in turn read a short reply. A brief prayer was offered by the Archbishop of Canterbury, and then the “Hallelujah Chorus” was sung. The grand State procession of all the dignitaries was then formed, and walked along the whole length of the crowded nave amidst deafening cheers. “Every one’s face,” writes the Queen in her Diary, “was bright and smiling, many with tears in their eyes. Many Frenchmen called out ‘Vive la Reine!’.... The old Duke and Lord Anglesey walked arm in arm, which was a touching sight.” When the procession returned to the point from which it started, Lord Breadalbane proclaimed the Exhibition open in the name of the Queen, whereupon there was a flourish of trumpets and more cheering. “Everybody,” writes the Queen,
OPENING OF THE GREAT EXHIBITION, HYDE PARK.
(After the Picture by Eugène Lamé.)