CHAPTER IX
NIS! NIS! NIS! HURRAH!
Few men in England worked as hard as Prince Albert, the uncrowned King.If a corner stone of a school, a hospital, or a public building was tobe laid, a missionary society to be formed, some new docks to befounded, a museum to be opened, Prince Albert must be present. He mustattend naval reviews, councils to discuss reforms at Cambridge, dinnersof scientific men, and first meetings of societies to aid superannuatedservants. He must not only be seen, but he must be heard, for he wasexpected to make a speech on every occasion. In fact, whenever heopened the door of his own rooms, some delegation seemed to be waitingto ask him to attend a meeting and make a speech.
All these demands upon his time took him away from the Queen, and everyabsence made her lonely. She wrote to King Leopold: "You cannot thinkhow forlorn I am when he is away; all the numerous children are asnothing. It seems as if the whole light of the house and home weregone." Prince Albert never let a day pass during any of these absenceswithout writing to her. Once when he went to an important meeting ofscientific men, he sent back the same day a little note that said: "Ihave locked myself in to send you two lines as a token of my life andlove. You will be feeling somewhat lonely and forsaken among the twoand a half millions of human beings in London, and I too feel the wantof only one person to give a world of life to everything around me."The following day he sent her another letter, although it could reachher only two hours before his own arrival. However pressing hisbusiness might be, he always found time to write a word to her. One ofthese notes read:
"Your faithful husband, agreeably to your wishes, reports:
"1. That he is still alive;
"2. That he has discovered the North Pole from Lincoln Cathedral, butwithout finding either Captain Ross or Sir John Franklin;
"3. That he has arrived at Brocklesby, and received the address;
"4. That he subsequently rode out, and got home quite covered withsnow, and with icicles on his nose;
"5. That the messenger is waiting to carry off this letter, which youwill have in Windsor by the morning;
"6. Last, not least (in the dinner-speeches' phrase), that he loves hiswife, and remains her devoted husband."
In the midst of all these engagements, the home life and the educationof the children were not neglected. Lord Melbourne and Baron Stockmarhad been consulted in regard to tutors and nursery arrangements asearnestly as on important political actions. Bishop Davys lived sosimply that the Queen could not disturb him by a royal visit, butwhenever she passed through Peterborough, she had her train delay sothat he could come to her, and she could talk with him about thechildren and have his advice in regard to their training and theirfuture. Lessons were important matters in the royal family, and if thegoverness was ill, either the Queen or the Prince heard the childrenrecite, so that there should be no loss. There is a story that when aclergyman, who was hearing them say the catechism, remarked, "Yourgoverness has taught you very thoroughly," they cried, "Oh, mammaalways teaches us our catechism." She was interested in every detail oftheir lives, and when the man who made the clothes of the sailors onthe _Victoria and Albert_ made a tiny sailor suit for the little Princeof Wales, she seemed as pleased as if one suit a year was the limit ofthe royal purse.
Queen Victoria; Prince Albert; Victoria, PrincessRoyal; Albert Edward, Prince of Wales; Prince Alfred; Princess Alice;Princess Helena.(_From painting by F. Winterhalter, 1848._)]
Besides the calls of home and state, many other responsibilities fellupon the sovereign of England. In the latter part of 1851, trade wasvery dull in London, and the Queen decided to give a great fancy ballat Buckingham Palace so that sales might be increased. All the guestswere asked to come in the costume of the time of the Stuarts, and thiswas so gay and picturesque that the ballroom must have been a mostbrilliant sight. The Queen wore a _gray dress_, but it was hardly assimple as one would expect from those two words, for it was glitteringwith gold and silver lace, while clusters of diamonds flashed forthfrom bows of rose-colored ribbon. The front of the dress opened todisplay a cloth-of-gold stomacher and underskirt made gorgeous withlarge emeralds. Strings of pearls were braided in with her hair, andupon her head she wore a small crown of diamonds and emeralds. Hergloves and shoes were heavily embroidered with gold. The costume of thePrince was a veritable rainbow, for he was all aglow in an orange coat,with its sleeves turned up with crimson velvet, breeches of crimsonvelvet, and stockings of lavender silk. This was not all by any means,for there were pink epaulets, pink satin bows, gold lace, a silverbaldric, and a hat with long white ostrich feathers.
The Queen and the Prince retained their seats while the guests entered,each one making a low bow in passing. No one would have thought a royalball complete without "the Duke," and he appeared in the dress of aStuart general, his scarlet coat adorned with gold lace and point lace,and its sleeves slashed with white satin. Blue velvet trunks, crimsonsilk sash, white hat with blue plumes, and gold lace wherever there wasroom for it, completed his costume. So much he would concede to thestate ball, but he utterly refused to appear in the long curls of theStuart period, and in spite of all his gay trappings, he was still thestern old commander.
Another great ball given by the Lord Mayor of London followed this one,and it is no wonder that Queen and Prince were glad to leave London fora little rest. This time and many other times they went to Scotland.They loved Osborne, but the Prince was feeling the strain of hisintense work, and the physicians thought that the air of the mountainswould be better for him than that of the sea. Therefore they went toBalmoral, a charming little gray castle that they had bought. It stoodon the banks of the swiftly flowing River Dee, in the midst of hillsand forests. The life at Balmoral was far more simple than that of manynon-royal families. Of course a Cabinet Minister was always inattendance, and messengers with boxes of state dispatches werecontinually coming and going; but there was much greater freedom thanthe Queen could enjoy elsewhere. In the early years at Balmoral, theEnglish court consisted of the Queen, the Prince, their four children,the two teachers, and four other persons, secretaries and ladies inattendance.
At Balmoral they climbed mountains, searched for crystals andcairngorms, took long walks through the woods, made little picnics farup in the hills and built a cairn, or great pile of stones, each personplacing one in turn, to mark the new ownership of the place. At dinner,the Prince wore the Scotch dress, and the Queen often wore over hershoulder a scarf of Stuart plaid. While the Prince was out shooting inthe morning, she frequently ran about among the cottages, chattingeasily and comfortably with the cottagers, comparing the height andweight of the latest royal baby with the latest baby of theneighborhood, going to the little stores in the village to buy dressesfor poor people and toys for their children. On Sunday she went to thekirk like a true Scotchwoman, and one day she wrote in her journalenthusiastic praise of Dr. McLeod's sermons, because they were so"simple and eloquent," she said. She was never pleased to have aminister pay her any special attention in his sermons; she liked tohave him look upon her as only one more of his people; but she wrotethat when Dr. McLeod prayed for her and the Prince, and then said"Bless their children," it gave her "a lump in the throat."
In their everyday life the royal family were Scotch when they were inScotland. The English children of the palace wore kilts and tartans,they played in the brooks with the Scotch children of the cottages; andthe Princess Royal of England walked into a wasps' nest and met thesame fate that would have befallen any little Scotch girl who had donethe same thing. A Highland dancing master and a fiddler were engaged tocome to Balmoral and teach the Queen and her court how to danceScottish reels and strathspeys. One evening, after an early dinner, thecourt set off for a fourteen-mile drive to see a Scotch ball at aneighboring castle. It must have been a weird and beautiful sight. Thedancing floor was out of doors, and all around it stood Highlanders intheir gay plaids, holding blazing torches, while seven pipers providedthe music. One of the reels was danced by eight Hig
hlanders, eachbearing a torch. Another interesting sight was the sword dance. In thistwo swords crossed were laid upon the ground, and the performer mustdance around them without touching them.
As in the case of Osborne, it was soon apparent that the pretty littlegray castle was not large enough for the Queen's housekeeping. "Everybed in the house was full," wrote Mr. Greville when he had beenspending a night at Balmoral. A new house was decided upon, and whenthe corner stone was laid, there was one of the little familycelebrations that were so delightful to both Queen and Prince. The sunshone brightly on the stone, as it hung over the place that it was tooccupy. The servants of the castle stood in a semicircle on one side,and the workmen behind them. The royal family and their guests came outof the house together and took their places on the opposite side. Aclergyman offered up a prayer for a blessing on the work and on the newhome. A parchment giving the date on which the stone was laid wassigned by every member of the royal family and put into a bottle,together with the current coins of the country. The bottle was sealedand placed in the cavity; the architect gave the Queen a trowel tospread the mortar; and the stone was lowered. The Queen then struck thestone with a mallet, and said: "I now declare that this corner stone islaid." She poured oil upon it in token of plenty, and wine in token ofgladness; the pipers played; the workmen had a feast and a dance; andthe new house was begun.
When the house was partly done, the builder came to Prince Albert andsaid:
"The price of materials has risen so greatly that keeping this contractwill ruin me."
"Tell me just what the prices are now and what they were when we madethe contract," said the Prince. The builder made a rapid list and gaveit to him.
A few days later, the Prince sent for the builder and said:
"I find that you are right, and so I have burned my copy of thecontract. I will be the builder myself, and if you will superintend thework of building, I will pay you the same amount that you expected tomake on the contract."
Only a few days after one of the simple, merry evenings at Balmoral, atelegram broke into the happiness of the household, saying that theDuke of Wellington was dead. "One cannot think of this country withoutthe Duke," wrote the Queen. "Not an eye will be dry. He was Britain'spride, her glory, her hero, the greatest man she had ever produced." Apublic funeral was given him by order of Parliament. His body lay instate in a great hall whose walls were heavily draped with black,relieved only by the banners that he had captured in battle. Guardsmenas motionless as statues stood at intervals along the passage, leaningupon their muskets, which rested, muzzles down, on the door. On thecoffin lay the Duke's sword and his cocked hat, and around the bierstood officers on guard, whose scarlet uniforms shone out of thedarkness in the light of the tall wax candles that outlined the bier.Finally the body of the Duke was borne to St. Paul's on an irongun-carriage, followed by the dead commander's horse with its emptysaddle and by a long line of soldiers representing every regiment.Thousands of people lined the street through which the funeral_cortege_ marched. They stood with bared heads and in such perfectsilence that not a sound was heard but the steady tramp of feet and theroll of the funeral drums. So it was that the great soldier was buriedamid the grief of the nation.
Never was he needed more, for the sound of war was coming near. TheEmperor Nicholas, whom the Queen had called so "easy to get alongwith," proved to be somewhat less easy than he had been when on avisit. He had declared that he should protect the Christians in Turkeyfrom the outrages of the Turks; but France and England believed thatwhat he was really aiming at was to get possession of Constantinople.If he succeeded in this, no ship could enter the Black Sea against hiswill, and it would not be impossible for him to gain control of theAsiatic lands then ruled by Great Britain. If this came to pass, Russiawould be far more powerful than any other state in Europe. This was thebelief of England and France, and they wished to oppose him.
The Queen was always against war, but when it was finally declared,early in 1854, she did everything in her power for the success ofEngland. When the first regiments that were ready to go to the Crimeamarched through the courtyard of Buckingham Palace, she and the Princestood on the balcony as enthusiastic as the troops. Then she hastenedto Osborne to say farewell to the warships that were starting for theBaltic. Prince Alfred had already made up his mind to be a sailor, andthe Duke's little namesake was destined to follow the Duke's exampleand be a soldier, but they were as yet only small children, and theQueen exclaimed, "How I wish I had two sons in the army now and two inthe navy!" Nothing that affected the war was too great or too small forher to notice, and she had a definite opinion on every subject.
"Your Majesty," said Lord Aberdeen, the Prime Minister, "it is proposedto have a day of humiliation and fasting for the success of our arms."
"I approve most heartily of a day of prayer," declared the Queen, "butnot of calling it a day of humiliation. We are not humiliated. It isnot our wickedness, but the selfish ambition and want of honesty of theEmperor which have brought on this war. We believe that our cause isjust, and that we are contending for what is right."
"But it has long been the custom to call such days times of fasting andprayer," the Prime Minister suggested.
"We will thank God for the blessings we have enjoyed," said the Queen,"and ask His help and protection, but it is my particular wish that wecall the day one of prayer and supplication."
The war was begun, and during the two years following, no one in theland suffered more intensely than the Queen. A powerful nation isalways inclined to expect that its enemies may be crushed at a blow,but Russia was not so easily crushed.
The Queen was prepared for battles lost and battles won, but not forblunders and poor management; and to a woman as prompt and as carefulof details as she, such faults were unpardonable. Before many monthscame the report of the Charge of the Light Brigade, which Tennyson hasmade famous in his poem. This useless charge by which six hundred menwere sent to attack an army was caused by a mistake. "Someone hadblundered." Thousands of copies of the poem were printed and sent tothe soldiers who were besieging Sebastopol.
The Queen was in constant anxiety. Telegrams were false and misleading,and if one brought good news in the morning, she dared not rejoice lestit should be contradicted before night. It was then that the work ofthe "special correspondent" began, for a physician who was at the sceneof the war sent letters to the _London Times_, and for the first time,the people at home knew the daily life of their soldiers.
The story told in the columns of the _Times_ was a narration ofterrible suffering, which was all the worse because so much of itwas unnecessary. It does not seem possible that such stupid blunderscould have been made. Food was sent that was not fit to eat. A wholeshipload of much-needed shoes braved the storms of the Atlantic andMediterranean--and proved to be all for the left foot! Clothes,blankets, and medicines in generous quantities lay in the holds ofEnglish vessels off Balaklava Bay, while men were dying for the lackof them. Shiploads of cattle arrived at Balaklava, and instead ofbeing driven to the front, where there was sore need of beef, theywere killed at once, and then came a long delay in arranging fortransportation. The trouble was that it was no one's business totransport the stores, and no one had the right to interfere. Thehospitals were so inefficient that nine-tenths of the men who died,perished of disease and mismanagement, and not from the bullets of theRussians.
When such news as this reached England, the whole country was aroused,but it was helpless. There was no time to change the organization ofthe conflicting "departments," and the Minister of War finally decidedto do exactly what the Romans used to do in times of great difficulty:he appointed a dictator, with full power to go to the Crimea and doprecisely as she thought best in making arrangements for the sick andwounded soldiers. This dictator was a woman named Florence Nightingale.She had a large fortune and a beautiful home, but she cared more forhelping the sick than for living in luxury. For more than ten years shehad been studying nursing, not only in Englan
d, but in France andGermany. Late in 1854 she went to the Crimea, taking forty-two nurseswith her. It was no small task that she had undertaken, for in a shorttime ten thousand sick men were in her charge. The sanitaryarrangements of the camp and the hospital were all in her hands. Shewas a gentle, modest woman, by nature shy and retiring, but where thecomfort of her soldiers was concerned, she would never yield a point toanyone. "She had a voice of velvet and a will of steel," they said ofher; and as she walked down the long aisles of the hospitals--in one ofthem the rows of beds stretched along for nearly two and a halfmiles--the poor sufferers kissed her very shadow. It was of her thatLongfellow wrote:
"And slow, as in a dream of bliss, The speechless sufferer turns to kiss Her shadow, as it falls Upon the darkening walls."
Meanwhile, the Queen was doing all in her power for the soldiers andtheir families. A Patriotic Fund was begun, and it soon reached$5,000,000. The "Soldier's Daughter" and her older girls sewed and knitfor the army, the Prince of Wales, who was now thirteen years of age,painted a picture to be sold for the fund--no small contribution, forit brought nearly three hundred dollars--and the two older Princessestalked, as they sat knitting, about Miss Nightingale, and wished theycould go to the Crimea and work by her side. At the opening ofParliament, the Queen began her speech bravely, but when she spoke ofthe war, her self-control failed her, and she struggled through thesentences as best she could with her eyes full of tears.
News of victories came, but nothing could be decisive except thecapture of Sebastopol. "If we could only take Sebastopol!" she wasalways saying to herself, and one of her children said to a general whowas starting for the Crimea, "Do hurry and take Sebastopol, or it willkill mamma." In September, 1855, the royal family and the Duchess ofKent were at Balmoral, when late one evening on the third day aftertheir arrival, two telegrams were brought in, one for the Queen, andone for the Cabinet Minister.
"Good news," exclaimed the Queen. "This tells the details of thedestruction of the Russian ships."
"But I have still better news," said the Minister. "Mine reads,'Sebastopol is in the hands of the allies.'"
"Come and light the bonfire," cried Prince Albert, and he started upCraig Gowan, the hill opposite the house, where material for a bonfirehad been piled up nearly a year before in the hope that Sebastopolwould fall before the Queen had to return to London.
The gentlemen of the court hastened after the Prince, in full eveningdress as they were. The little Princes were awakened and hurriedlydressed, and they followed after their father. The servants followed,the keepers, the workmen, the whole population of the village. Thefires blazed out and shone on all the peaks round about. The people inthe valleys knew what it meant, and they too hurried to the top of thehill. There was cheering, dancing, shouting, playing of bagpipes, andfiring of guns. "It was a veritable witches' dance," declared thePrince when he came down. He was soon followed by the rest of thepeople, and when they were under the Queen's window, they sang to themusic of the bagpipes, they fired guns, and then they cheered theQueen, the Prince, the Emperor of France, and last they gave adeafening "Nis! nis! nis! hurrah, for the fall of Sebastopol!"
It would seem as if this was excitement enough for one month, but fourdays later, the young Prince Frederick William of Prussia came toBalmoral to make a visit; and before the visit had lasted two weeks,there was a pretty little scene on the mountain side when he gavePrincess "Vicky" a piece of white heather, the emblem of good fortune,and contrived to make it clear to her that the best fortune which couldhappen to him would be the gift of her hand. A few days before this,the father and mother and their guest had agreed that nothing should besaid to the Princess for six months, but the secret had found its wayout.
The Princess Victoria had always been Baron Stockmar's specialfavorite, and she as well as her father wrote their good friend atonce, and sent him the news that the kindly old match-maker had beenwaiting for since the Princess was a little child, for such a marriagewould make a strong alliance between England and Prussia, the two greatProtestant powers of Europe. Prince Albert wrote, "The Prince is reallyin love, and the little lady does her best to please him. Come to ussoon. We have so much to talk over." A little later, he wrote again ofhis hope that he should soon hear the children say, "Do you know, papa,that the Baron is in his room below?" He closed, "We positively musthave some talk face to face."
The Princess was to be confirmed in the spring, and until that eventwas past, nothing was to be said in public of the engagement. Themarriage was not to take place until at least a year after theconfirmation, but Prince Albert felt that the time was far too shortfor the preparation that her future position would make desirable; and,busy man as he was, he set apart an hour every evening to talk with heron historical topics, and listen to the papers which she prepared onsubjects that he had given her. In the spring came her confirmation,which was preceded by an examination in the catechism held in thepresence of her father and mother, the Duchess of Kent, and theArchbishop of Canterbury.
This betrothal of the eldest daughter brought to the Queen mingledfeelings of pleasure and pain; pleasure, because the alliance withPrussia, so desirable an arrangement for both countries, was to bebrought about by a marriage that promised the happiness of herdaughter; pain, because that marriage was the first break in the familycircle. Nevertheless, in joy or in sorrow, the public life of thesovereign must go on. Many of the soldiers who had been severelywounded were sent home. The Queen had often visited them in thehospitals, and one day she said to her Minister:
"Those brave men ought to have medals that they can hand down to theirchildren, and I have ordered a number to be made."
As the day appointed for the distribution of the medals drew near, theMinister asked if she would have them sent to the men.
"No," replied the Queen with decision, "I want to put those medals intotheir hands myself. I feel as if those men were my own children."
It was a pitiable company of sufferers that she met. There were menwith deep red scars, men with empty sleeves, men tottering up to her oncrutches to touch the hand of their Queen. Many of them would not giveup their medals to be marked with their names, lest they should notreceive again the very ones that the Queen had given them. One man waswheeled up in a chair. He had lost one leg and the foot from the other,but he had refused to give up the command of his battery till the fightwas over, and had given his orders as calmly as if he had not beentouched.
"Such bravery as that," cried the Queen, with tears in her eyes, "callsfor more than a medal, and you shall be one of my aides-de-camp."
"That pays me amply for everything," he replied. The Queen wrote theaccount of this incident to King Leopold. "One must revere and lovesuch soldiers as those," she added.
She was never weary of visiting the hospitals and camps. As theregiments returned from the Crimea in the spring and summer of 1856,there were reviews without end. On one occasion she reviewed eighteenthousand troops. She was dressed in the uniform of a field marshal,with a dark blue skirt; and as she rode down the front and returned bythe rear, the thousands of men presented arms, and the bands of twentyregiments gave her a joyful greeting. Then she rode to a little moundfrom which she watched her troops as they filed past her.
There was no limit to the enthusiasm and loyalty which were aroused bythe presence of the Queen. One review was held in a pelting rain. Theevolutions were spoiled, and the men had every reason to feel gloomyand disappointed but the Queen saved the day, for she rose in hercarriage and made them a warm-hearted little speech of welcome that waslike a flash of sunshine. When she closed with, "I thank God that yourdangers are over, while the glory of your deeds remains," there was awild outburst of cheers. The men waved their hats, their sabers,anything and everything that would wave, and shouted till the hillsechoed.
The sailors were no less loyal. During this same summer, there was asuperb naval review off Spitshead which the Queen witnessed from theroyal yacht. Two hundred and forty ships of war wer
e assembled, butthat was not all, for the Queen's suite alone consisted of thirtysteamships, and there were many hundred private steamboats and sailingvessels. Every foot of the shore that would give a view of the warshipswas crowded with spectators, and they had a sight well worth theseeing. Ships and steamers were beautifully decorated with flags andcrowded with guests. The men-of-war were drawn up in a double line, andthe royal yacht steamed slowly along between them. Every vessel mannedits yards and fired a royal salute as the Queen passed. The mostenthusiastic cheering echoed and reechoed. Then came a mimic navalattack on Southsea Castle, and the brilliant day was at an end.
One thing more the Queen planned to do for her soldiers, and that wasto give a badge of special honor to those who had been especiallydistinguished by some deed of rare bravery. This badge was the VictoriaCross, which was then bestowed for the first time. With it went apension of fifty dollars a year. More than one hundred thousand peopleassembled in Hyde Park to see the sixty-two chosen heroes receive theirCrosses. The Queen was now in the scarlet jacket of the army. PrinceAlbert rode on one side of her and Prince Frederick William on theother side. She remained on horseback during the whole ceremony,leaning forward as one brave fighter after another was led up to her,and pinning the Cross on his breast.
The woman whose battles had been, not with Russians, but withmismanagement and inefficiency, lingered in the Crimea until she hadseen every soldier leave for home, then she herself returned as quietlyas if she had been on a pleasure trip. She seemed to have entirelyforgotten that thousands of men in England would have been lying inCrimean graves had it not been for her; but the men remembered, andEngland gave her such a welcome as even the Duke of Wellington hadhardly received. She was an honored guest at Balmoral. Everyone waslonging to do something for her, but what should it be? "Make her agift," said the people, "and let her do with it as she will." Twohundred and fifty thousand dollars was raised by popular subscriptionand presented to her. She did with it as she would; she endowed schoolsfor the training of nurses to carry on the work that she loved.