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Meanwhile the remains of the Duchess of Kent had been removed to the mausoleum at Frogmore, just completed, and the queen and prince made a visit there after parting with their children.
The prince's birthday was celebrated while he and the queen were making a journey through Ireland. "This," wrote the queen to King Leopold, "is the dearest of days, and one which fills my heart with love and gratitude. God bless and protect my beloved Albert, the purest and best of human beings." The customary gifts were ready, although the prince was far from home, and all were spread out on a table when he came down stairs in the morning. We quote from her majesty's diary: "Alas! there was wanting the usual gift from that beloved mother, which hasnever been wanting before. When all was ready I fetched Albert, and the four children received us, and gave him bouquets. But I missed the little ones,—above all baby,—and sadly I thought of poor dear Vicky. Albert was much pleased with the presents, and with the girls' (the Crown Princess and Princess Alice) pretty drawings."
On the last day of August the royal family were again at Balmoral, where Prince Louis of Hesse soon joined them. The circle was increased by the arrival of her majesty's half-sister from Germany, and Lady Augusta Bruce, who had been the Duchess of Kent's favorite lady-in-waiting for many years. The autumn of this year was all that could be desired, and the sojourn at Balmoral delightful in every respect. It was at this period that the Prince of Wales first met the lady whom he married later. The Princess Alexandra, of Denmark, was on a visit to Germany, and it had been arranged that the prince was to meet her there with a view to marriage, in case they liked each other. Every precaution was taken to keep this delicate matter secret; but it was soon discovered in Germany, and then published in the English papers. It met with hearty approval everywhere. "We hear nothing but excellent accounts of the Princess Alexandra," wrote the prince consort in his diary, "and there seems no doubt that the young people have taken a warm liking for each other."
Shortly after the court returned to Windsor Castle, the death of the young King of Portugal was announced. This was a sad blow to the prince consort, who loved the king very much. The queen wrote in her diary of this melancholy event: "Such a fearful loss! Such an irreparable loss for the country which adored him,—for his and our family, of which he was the brightest ornament,—for Europe,—in short, for every one. Highly gifted, and most pure, able, excellent, and hard-working to a degree—
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he was one in a thousand. My Albert was very fond of him, loved him like a son (as I did too), while he had unbounded confidence in Albert, and was worthy of him. It was like another awful dream! Dear Pedro! only twenty-five! gone from this world, in which he was certainly never happy! It is too, too dreadful!"
This loss had a serious effect on the prince consort, who had not felt well for several months, often complained of fatigue, and suffered much from sleeplessness. He continued to travel about and attend to his varied duties, but always complaining of pain and depression of spirits.
The last matter of public importance in which he took an interest was the "Trent" affair, connected with our Confederate war. On the eighth of November the English steamer "Trent" sailed from Havana for England, having on board Messrs. Mason and Slidell with their secretaries, Messrs. McFarland and Eustis. These men had run the blockade from Charleston, in the Confederate steamer "Nashville," and were going as representatives of the Southern Confederacy to the courts of England and France. The day after sailing from Havana, the "Trent" was fired into by the "San Jacinto," and ordered to stop. She obeyed, when Captain Wilkes, commander of the American vessel, boarded the English one, and captured Messrs. Mason and Slidell with their secretaries. This was a violation of international law, and England considered herself insulted. France sided with England, and for some time there was a prospect of our having another war on our hands, besides the dreadful civil war. The prince consort drew up the draft of a letter to our government, in the queen's name, demanding, in mild though firm terms, an assurance that Captain Wilkes had not acted under official instructions, and that the prisoners should be released. The demand was complied with, and the war-cloud blew away very soon.The speedy settlement of the "Trent" affair was due in great part to the careful, courteous though determined wording of the prince consort's letter. But he was ill,—confined to his room part of every day, and felt the extra anxiety very severely; for he was far from desiring any dispute with the United States.
On the night of the twenty-eighth of November the prince had slept rather better than usual, but complained of chilliness when he made his appearance in the morning. He stood by the queen for twenty minutes on the south terrace of the castle, to see the Eton College volunteers go through their manoeuvres, and pass in review before the queen. The volunteers then marched into the conservatory near by, where a luncheon was spread for them. "As soon as they were seated," writes the queen in her diary, "we went in and walked round the tables; it was a very pretty sight. Albert was well wrapped up but looked very unwell, and could only walk very slowly. The day was close and warm; but although the prince was wrapped in a coat lined with fur, he said on the ground that he felt as if cold water was being poured down his back. His absence would have given rise to apprehension and remark, therefore he went out, though conscious that he ought not to have gone."
This feeling of chilliness continued, and other symptoms of disorder followed. The prince exerted himself to talk and to be cheerful, but he ate little and slept less. On Monday morning, December 2, at seven o'clock, Dr. Jenner was summoned, as a low fever had set in. "I was so anxious," says her majesty's diary, "so distressed; Albert did not dress, but lay upon the sofa and I read to him.... Sir James Clarke arrived, and found him in much the same state,—very restless and uncomfortable, sometimes lying on the sofa in his dressing-room, and then sitting up in an arm-chair in his sitting-room."The physicians assured the queen that there was no cause for alarm, and no necessity for further medical advice, as had been suggested. On the fourth there was no improvement. Her majesty found him "looking very wretched and woe-begone. He could take only half a cup of tea. He afterwards came to his sitting-room, where I left him so wretched that I was dreadfully overcome and alarmed. Alice was reading to him."
Sir James Clarke still felt hopeful, and the queen went for a short walk. On her return, she found, the invalid "very restless and haggard and suffering, though at times he seemed better. While Alice was reading the 'Talisman,' in the bedroom, where he was lying on the bed, he seemed in a very uncomfortable, panting state, which frightened us. We sent for Dr. Jenner, and then Mr. Brown, of Windsor, came up, and was most kind and reassuring, and not at all alarmed. But Dr. Jenner said that the princemusteat; that the illness would be tedious, and that completely starving himself, as he had done, would not do."
Two days passed with little change, and the doctors pronounced the disease gastric fever. The queen was informed of it, but not the patient, who had a perfect horror of fevers. "What an awful trial this is," writes her majesty, "to be deprived for so long of my guide, my support, my all! My heart was ready to burst; but I cheered up, remembering how many people have fever.... Good Alice was very courageous, and tried to comfort me."
On the eighth the prince had requested to be removed to the "blue-room," because it was so large, bright, and cheerful, and then he asked for some music, saying: "I should like to hear a fine chorale, played at a distance." A piano was drawn to the next room and the Princess Alice played "Ein feste Burg ist unser Gott" and anotherhymn, while the prince listened with tears in his eyes. Later in the day the queen read "Peveril of the Peak" to him, and he followed the story with much interest. When her majesty returned to him after dinner, she writes: "He was so pleased to see me,—stroked my face, and smiled, and called me 'liebeschauchen,'—precious love!"
Dr. Watson and Sir Henry Holland were now associated with the other two physicians, and for a few days the invalid seemed to improve, though his mind wandered at times in a most distressing manner. On the eleventh a bulletin was issued, informing the public that the prince was seriously ill, though his case was not yet considered dangerous. He could not bear to have the queen absent from his bedside for an instant, and constantly spoke kind and tender words to her. In the evening the symptoms were not so favorable, and great anxiety was felt.
Lord Palmerston was laid up with an attack of gout; but he was kept informed of the prince's condition, as were the rest of the ministers, inquiries being made regularly by them all.
Between frequent changes from better to worse and worse to better, two more days passed, and on the fourteenth, Dr. Brown, who had been in attendance on the royal family for more than twenty years, informed her majesty that the crisis was over, and there was ground for hope. This was good news indeed!
"I went over at seven, as I usually did," writes her majesty. "It was a bright morning, the sun just rising, and shining brightly. The room had the sad look of nightwatching, and the candles burnt down to their sockets, the doctors looking anxious. I went in, and never can I forget how beautiful my darling looked, lying there with his face lit up by the rising sun, his eyes unusually bright, gazing, as it were, on unseen objects, and not taking notice of me."It was true that the prince consort had rallied; but he was not really better, and the Prince of Wales, who, in answer to a telegram, had arrived during the night, had been informed by Sir Henry Holland of his father's state. During the day there was little change; the prince spoke from time to time to the queen, called her "Gutes Frauchen" and recognized each of the children as they came in and kissed his hand.
The next evening the queen was summoned from the adjoining room, where she had gone only a few moments before to give vent to her grief. She knew only too well what it meant. She entered, took the prince's hand, and knelt down. On the other side of the bed was the Princess Alice, and at the foot knelt the Prince of Wales and Princess Helena. Physicians and others stood near in different parts of the room. Not a sound was to be heard within that mournful chamber; the gentle spirit was passing calmly, peacefully away. The castle clock chimed the third quarter after ten. Two or three long but gentle breaths were drawn, the beloved features settled into a sweet repose, and all was over.
After what has appeared in these pages concerning the prince's character, and his qualities as a husband, a father, a friend, it is unnecessary to comment upon the loss those nearest and dearest to him had sustained. But his death took the nation by surprise; for they had not realized the seriousness of his illness, and there was not a home in the kingdom that was not saddened by it. The queen was and is dearly beloved, and her sorrow was shared by her people.
On the morning of Monday, December 23, the remains of the prince consort were removed in grand state from Windsor Castle, and temporarily deposited in the entrance to the royal vault in St. George's Chapel, where they were to remain until the completion of a mausoleum to be erected afterwards.On the eighteenth of December, her majesty, accompanied by the Princess Alice, drove to the gardens of Frogmore, where the Prince of Wales, Prince Louis of Hesse, Sir Charles Phipps, and Sir James Clarke awaited her. A spot was selected for the mausoleum, which was to contain the remains of the prince consort; and the following year, the work having been completed, they were removed to their final resting-place.
A.D. 1862.At the time of his death the prince consort was making arrangements for another International Exhibition, which opened May 1 of the ensuing year. But the public did not enter into the spirit of the enterprise, as they had done eleven years before; the novelty and charm had worn off, and neither the building nor the site on which it was erected were to be compared with the former one for taste or beauty. Besides, the United States were still in the midst of civil war, and the continent of Europe had not yet recovered from the effects of several conflicts.
The queen retired as much as possible from public life; for she was plunged in the deepest grief, from which she could not rouse herself. She did not open parliament again until 1866; then Lord John Russell was prime minister, having replaced Lord Palmerston, who had died during the previous year. It is unnecessary to record the events" of the political world, because they would fail to interest young readers, for whom this work is intended. Besides, it has been our object to avoid details as much as possible, and some events that have been of the utmost importance in their bearing have had only slight mention. Everybody, young and old, is interested in literature and science, however. We will, therefore, devote a little space to the consideration of their progress during this reign.
In the early part of the century, travel by land and
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water was greatly facilitated by the utilization of steam; and voyages across the Atlantic, which had hitherto taken months, now began to be accomplished in a fortnight, and have since been reduced to ten days or a week. Great railroads have been built, embracing thousands and thousands of miles, and intersecting every acre of the civilized world. Telegraph wires have been stretched from end to end of the earth, and even beneath the ocean, facilitating the interchange of messages, and many minor improvements akin to these have been made. The nineteenth century is remarkable for other inventions besides, of which we daily feel the benefit. Of the rapid strides that science has made, we cannot be more entirely conscious than by contemplating the labors of such men as Faraday, Sir Charles Lyell, Sir John Herschel, Richard Owen, Hugh Miller, Darwin, Huxley, Tyndall, and others. To this list the name of Mary Somerville must be added, for she is the one woman who takes her place in the foremost rank of scientific scholars.
This is an age of great reforms, too. In Queen Victoria's reign constitutional and parliamentary government has been firmly established, and the system of social science inaugurated, and the penal laws have been modified in England.
In literature, a bright galaxy of names comes to our mind. Among the philosophers are John Stuart Mill, Herbert Spencer, George Henry Lewis, Buckle, and Lecky; while Carlyle, Macaulay, Grote, Froude, Ruskin, and Miss Martineau represent some of the historians and essayists.
Scott, Byron, Coleridge, and Keats were dead when Queen Victoria ascended the throne; but there still lived such poets as Wordsworth, Southey, Moore, and Landor, and later there came into prominence Robert Browning and his wife, Tennyson, the Poet Laureate, Philip James Bailey, Alexander Smith, Swinburne, Morris, Jean Inge-low, Dante Rossetti, and Christina Rossetti.Punch, the world-renowned paper, was founded in this reign, and drew together some clever young writers, while among its illustrators were such famous artists as Doyle, Leech, and Tenniel.
Then we come to the novelists. Who has not heard of Dickens and Thackeray, and enjoyed their works time and time again? Perhaps these two are the most familiar, to young people, of the English novelists of the present century; but we must mention besides Charles Reade, Anthony Trollope, Charlotte Bronte, Bulwer, Charles Kingsley, Black, Charles Lever, Miss Mulock, and Hardy.
This very incomplete list of names, that suggest the various branches of literature, will serve to show that no century has produced so many men and women whose names deserve to be handed down to posterity as the present one.
Thus far, and no further, are we permitted to inquire into her majesty's private life. Whatever we have written has been furnished from the royal diary, extracts of which have been made from Mr. Theodore Martin's "Life of the Prince Consort." Whatever else we might add would not be based upon authentic documents, and would degenerate into gossip. It is left for others, who, after her majesty's death, may have access to her private papers, to chronicle such events of importance and interest as may have centred around her. Let us only express a sincere hope that it may be many years before opportunity offers.