Though old Mr. Dilke had sympathized with the wonderful manoeuvres of the child's armies of leaden soldiers, and had added to them large reinforcements, he became troubled by his grandson's keen and excited following of all the reports from the Crimea. He had a terror of the boy's becoming a soldier, and 'used to do his best to point out the foolish side of war.' But this, as the passage already quoted shows, did not deter his pupil from beginning, while still a growing youth, detailed study of military matters.
Under normal conditions, an undergraduate going up to an English University without public school friendships is at a disadvantage: and this was Charles Dilke's case. But he went to his father's college, Trinity Hall; and his father was a very well known and powerfully connected man. Offer of a baronetcy had been made to Wentworth Dilke in very unusual and gratifying terms. General Grey, the Queen's secretary, wrote:
"ST. JAMES'S PALACE, "January 1st, 1862.
"MY DEAR DILKE,
"The Queen cannot forget for how many years you have been associated with her beloved husband in the promotion of objects which were dear to his heart; and she would fain mark her sense of the valuable assistance you have ever given him in his labours in some manner that would be gratifying to your feelings.
"I am therefore commanded by Her Majesty to express the hope that the offer of a Baronetcy which she has informed Lord Palmerston of her desire to confer upon you, coming direct from Her Majesty herself, and as her own personal act, may be one which it will be agreeable to you to accept."
Proof of the Queen's strong feeling for the man who had been so closely associated with the Prince Consort in his work of popularizing the arts and crafts had already been given by the fact that Wentworth Dilke was, except for those whom she was obliged to meet on business, the first person from the outside world whom she saw after the Prince Consort's death. And indeed, but for his sense of a personal graciousness in the offer, Wentworth Dilke would scarcely have departed from his lifelong habit of deference to his father's wish and judgment. Old Mr. Dilke, though gratified by the compliment, wrote to a friend:
"My son's fortune is not strong enough to enable his children to carry such a burthen with ease; and as to the waifs and strays which it may help them to, I would rather see them fight their good fight unshackled."
There came a time when the baronetcy was something of an encumbrance to one of these children:
'When I was accused of attacking the Queen, which I never did, somebody—I forget who—went further, and said I had "bitten the hand which fed me," and I really believe that this metaphor expressed publicly a private belief of some people that my father had made money by his labours. All I can say is that he never made a farthing by them in any form at any time, and that in '51 and in '62 he spent far more than his income on entertainments…. He wished for no reward, and he knew the conditions under which his life was given to public rather than to private service: but he killed himself at it; he left me much less rich than I should otherwise have been, and it is somewhat hard to find myself told that if I call attention to notorious illegalities I am "biting the hand that fed me." The Queen herself has, as I happen to know, always spoken in a very different sense.'