ciple becomes a headlong passion, swelling into such enthusiasm as the Frenchman saw when he jotted down in his notebook, 'In England loyalty is a passion.'"
The Duke of Wellington shared with the Royal Family the honors of the day. He was accompanied, according to Lord Palmerston, by a running fire of applause from the men, and of waving of handkerchiefs and kissing of hands from the women. It used to be said that people went to the exhibition as much to see the Duke of Wellington,[1] who was a frequent visitor, as for any other purpose. The total number of visitors to the exhibition during the time it remained open was more than 6,000,000. An old Cornish woman, Mary Keslynack, not wishing to trust herself on a railway, walked to London to see the exhibition and the Queen. Her Majesty notes in her diary the fact that the old lady's wish was gratified. She "was at the door to see me,—a most hale old woman, who was near crying at my looking at her."
But this "Peace Festival" could not avert the war-cloud that was hanging over England. It is no part of the scheme of this little volume to discuss the policy of the Crimean War, but only to relate the Queen's part in it, and her intense interest in it. Even this can only be very briefly and inadequately sketched. Some idea of the labor devolving upon a conscientious Sovereign in times of national crisis
- ↑ The Duke of Wellington died in September, 1852, deeply mourned by the Queen and her husband. The Queen wrote to her uncle, "You will mourn with us over the loss we and the whole nation have experienced in the death of the dear and great Duke of Wellington. … He was the pride, and the good genius, as it were, of this country, the most loyal and devoted subject, and the stanchest supporter the Crown ever had. He was to us a true friend and most valuable adviser. … We shall soon stand sadly alone. Aberdeen is almost the only personal friend of that kind left to us. Melbourne, Peel, Liverpool, now the Duke, all gone!"
