CHAPTER XVII.
THE “ALABAMA” CLAIMS.
Thanksgiving Day—The Procession—Behaviour of the Crowd—Scene in St. Paul’s—Decorations and Illuminations—Letter from Her Majesty—Attack on the Queen—John Brown—The Queen’s Speech—The Alabama Claims—The “Consequential Damages”—Living in a Blaze of Apology—Story of the “Indirect Claims”—The Arbitrators’ Award—Sir Alexander Cockburn’s Judgment—Passing of the Ballot Act—The Scottish Education Act—The Licensing Bill—Public Health Bill—Coal Mines Regulation Bill—The Army Bill—Admiralty Reforms—Ministerial Defeat on Local Taxation—Starting of the Home Government Association in Dublin—Assassination of Lord Mayo—Stanley’s Discovery of Livingstone—Dr. Livingstone’s Interview with the Queen—Her Majesty’s Gift to Mr. Stanley—Death of Dr. Norman Macleod—The Japanese Embassy—The Burmese Mission—Her Majesty at Holyrood Palace—Death of Her Half-Sister.
During the first weeks of 1872 the convalescence of the Heir Apparent seemed to obscure all other topics of political interest. The anti-monarchical agitation, which Sir Charles Dilke had fomented, not only by his votes in Parliament, but by his speeches in the country, suddenly subsided, showing that the sentiment of affectionate regard which had linked the Crown and the nation together in the past, was not to be destroyed by political factions who were trading on the temporary and local estrangement of the Queen from her subjects in the capital. Faction, indeed, was for the time silenced throughout the land, and the Queen soon saw that it was the universal desire of the nation that the recovery of the Prince, which had saved the country from much anxiety as to its future under a Regency, should be celebrated by a solemn public function. It was therefore announced in the middle of January that the Queen would proceed in State to St. Paul’s Cathedral on as early a day as could be fixed after the 20th of February, to return thanks for the recovery of her son. Ultimately Tuesday, the 27th of February, was fixed for the ceremony.
The day was clear and bright, though cold, and a wintry sun shone on the splendid pageant, for which elaborate preparations had been made many days before. The demand for tickets to view the spectacle was unprecedented. Carriages were hired at fabulous prices, and writing on the morning of the ceremony to his daughter-in-law, Lord Shaftesbury tells her that when he had ordered a brougham on the previous day at his job-master’s he was told “that every vehicle had been pre-engaged for weeks. Thoroughfares like St. James’s Street were impassable, because for two days before the event they were blocked by crowds who had come to see the preparations.”[34] In fact, as Bishop Wilberforce says in a passage in his Diary, London was “quite wild on Thanksgiving Day.”[35] By general desire the day was celebrated as a national holiday. As for the crowds in the streets along the line of route, they were said to number from a million to a million and a quarter of spectators, and the decorations far surpassed any similar display ever seen in London. The procession started from Buckingham Palace at five minutes past twelve o’clock, led by the carriages of the Speaker, the Lord Chancellor, and the Duke of Cambridge, and was composed of nine royal carriages, in the last of which the Queen was seen accompanied by the Prince and Princess of Wales. Her Majesty seemed to be in good health, and she looked supremely happy. The Prince was pale and rather haggard, but his bright and happy nature shone through a countenance radiant with gratitude, and he kept bowing all along the way to the multitudes who cheered him. The hearty reciprocal feeling between the Queen, the Prince, and the populace, which the shouts of such a vast crowd expressed, rendered the scene a magnificent demonstration of national loyalty to a popular Sovereign. At Temple Bar the Queen was met by the Lord Mayor and municipal dignitaries of the City of London, arrayed in their robes, and mounted on white horses. Having alighted, the Lord Mayor delivered to and received back from the Queen the City sword, according to the usual custom. But, contrary to precedent and to general expectation, the gates of Temple Bar were not closed against the Queen, so that it was unnecessary to present her with the
THANKSGIVING DAY: ST. PAUL’S ILLUMINATED.
keys. The Lord Mayor and his colleagues having re-mounted their steeds, preceded the Royal procession to St. Paul’s. Precisely at one o’clock the Queen entered the Cathedral through the pavilion erected upon the steps. Its approach was covered with crimson cloth, and it was ornamented with the royal arms and with the escutcheon of the Prince of Wales. On it there was the inscription “I was glad when they said unto me, We will go into the house of the Lord.” Within the Cathedral the scene was imposing and impressive, for all that was exalted in station, high in official position, or eminent by reason of genius, talent, and public services was represented in the congregation of 13,000 persons. Representatives of the Court, the Princes of India, the Colonies, the Houses of Parliament, the Episcopate, the Judges, the Lords-Lieutenant, and the municipal authorities of the provincial towns, were especially prominent. The Queen was received at the Cathedral by the Bishop of