CHAPTER XXI.

THE WAR IN THE CRIMEA.

On the 27th of March, 1854, the following message from the Crown was read to the Peers by the Lord Chancellor. It explains itself. Nor is it necessary for us to re-write here a single line of one of the brightest and freshest pages of the recent history of England. We had long been “drifting into war,” to use Lord Clarendon’smemorable phrase, and at last the die was irrevocably, though reluctantly, cast.

Victoria R.Her Majesty thinks it proper to acquaint the House that the negotiations in which Her Majesty, in concert with her allies, has for some time past been engaged with His Majesty the Emperor of All the Russias, have terminated, and that Her Majesty feels bound to afford active assistance to her ally the Sultan against unprovoked aggression.Her Majesty has given directions for laying before the House copies of such papers, in addition to those already communicated to Parliament, as will afford the fullest information with regard to the subject of these negotiations. It is a consolation to reflect that no endeavours have been wanting on her part to preserve to her subjects the blessings of peace.Her Majesty’s just expectations have been disappointed, and Her Majesty relies with confidence on the zeal and devotion of the House of Lords, and the exertions of her brave and loyal subjects to support her in her determination to employ the power and resources of the nation for protecting the dominions of the Sultan against the encroachments of Russia.

Victoria R.

Her Majesty thinks it proper to acquaint the House that the negotiations in which Her Majesty, in concert with her allies, has for some time past been engaged with His Majesty the Emperor of All the Russias, have terminated, and that Her Majesty feels bound to afford active assistance to her ally the Sultan against unprovoked aggression.

Her Majesty has given directions for laying before the House copies of such papers, in addition to those already communicated to Parliament, as will afford the fullest information with regard to the subject of these negotiations. It is a consolation to reflect that no endeavours have been wanting on her part to preserve to her subjects the blessings of peace.

Her Majesty’s just expectations have been disappointed, and Her Majesty relies with confidence on the zeal and devotion of the House of Lords, and the exertions of her brave and loyal subjects to support her in her determination to employ the power and resources of the nation for protecting the dominions of the Sultan against the encroachments of Russia.

Alma, Balaklava, and Inkerman had been fought and won, and the horrid winter in the trenches had not yet passed away. These days and nights of constant fighting had left us many fell remembrances of their grievous coming and going. The Eastern hospitals, at Scutari and within the lines of our camp, were choke-full of the wounded. Some few who could bear the pain of transit were brought home, and no one in England was more solicitous of their welfare and wise and kindly tending than England’s Queen. Her visits to the hospitals were as welcome as they were frequent.

On the 8th of March, 1855, the Queen, accompanied by Prince Albert, and by the Duke of Cambridge, the Prince of Wales, and Prince Alfred, visited the militaryhospitals at Fort Pitt and Brompton, Chatham. Fort Pitt was then the only general military hospital in England. As this hospital and that of Brompton contained together only 361 patients, it could not be considered that the royal visit was elicited by the peculiar calamities of the place. But the immense extent of the hospitals in the East, and the sufferings of the poor wounded soldiers lying within these vast lazar-houses, had raised in the breast of all England a feeling of pity and horror. In this feeling the Queen most deeply participated. While her visit to the only hospital in this country in which the sufferers by the war were received, was a gratification to her own kindly sympathies, and most cheering and solacing to the inmates, it could not fail to convey to the thousands of sufferers in the East, and to the kinsmen and kinswomen whose hearts bled for them at home, that no heart was fuller of pity than that of her under whose flag they had fought and fallen.

The whole of the wounded who were in a condition to leave their beds were drawn up in chairs on the lawn, each having written upon it a card containing the name and services of the occupant, the nature of his wounds, and where they were received. The Queen passed along the line, saying a few kind words to those sufferers who particularly attracted her notice, or to those whose services were specially commended. She visited every ward, except that containing fever cases. A few days after, the Queen reviewed some cavalry and artillery at Woolwich. After the review, she visited the hospital, and saw the wounded artillery-men who had returned from the Crimea. Nor were these isolated exhibitions of sentiment or emotion.Upon every occasion during the continuance of the war, the Queen showed the most heartfelt sympathy with her brave soldiers; visited their hospitals and transport ships; received the wounded at her palace, and suggested and liberally assisted in the establishment of permanent means of relief for them and their families. A beautiful letter of the Queen, which was accidentally made public about this time, showed that in the privacy of domestic life Her Majesty never forgot these sufferers. Indeed, she complained that she was not kept sufficiently informed of the needs of those who had returned wounded to their country.

DISTRIBUTION OF WAR MEDALS.

It was equally the Queen’s duty and pleasure to reward conspicuous merit, as it was to do all that lay within the limits of her human and regal power to soothe the pangs of woe. One scene in which she discharged this high queenly function will never be forgotten by those who were privileged to witness it. The Queen determined to present with her own hand, to the officers of the Crimean army, and to a portion of the non-commissioned officers and privates, who had returned to their country disabled by their wounds, the medals which they had so dearly won. This act of grace and kindness deeply touched a sentiment that rested deep in the bosom of the nation, that had, indeed, there rested ever since—nay, long before—Elizabeth thrilled the heroic hearts of her people at Tilbury by saying, “I myself will be your general and judge, and the rewarder of every one of your victories in the field.”

The presentation took place on the 18th of May, 1855. A royal dais was erected in the centre of the parade of the Horse Guards, and the public offices whichsurround it were filled up with galleries for the royal family and nobility. Within an area enclosed by barriers, were the intended recipients of the decorations. Without was a dense mass of spectators. When the Queen had reached the ground, the Guards, who had hitherto been in line, were formed four deep, and through the intervals thus opened the Crimean heroes passed, and in a few moments the Queen stood face to face with them. Each then passed singly, receiving his medal at the hands of Her Majesty, who presented them with a grace and kindness which brought tears to many an eye long unused to their effusion. The first to receive his medal was the Duke of Cambridge, who was enthusiastically received. Then followed other General officers, then the staff, and then in order, without distinction of regimental rank, came cavalry, artillery, engineers, and the line.

The sight was one of the most thrilling ever seen in our metropolis, or in our times. The gaunt and pallid forms, scarred features, and maimed and mutilated limbs, brought home to the heart of the least sympathetic the ravages of war, and the cost and guerdon of bravery. Many of those who hobbled upon crutches, or walked painfully with the assistance of a stick, wore upon their arms the emblems of mourning for some brother or near relative, now reposing by the waters of the Euxine or the Bosphorus. To each one of the wounded, whether officer or private, the Queen said some kind word or asked some kindly question of him. Many of the poor fellows were quite overcome by the tenderness of her compassion. Those officers whose wounds rendered them unable to walk, were wheeled past in Bath chairs. SirThomas Troubridge, who lost both feet at Inkerman, and who has since died, was the first of these. The Queen, leaning over his chair, handed him his medal with the most gracious gesture, and conferred upon him the post of aide-de-camp to herself. Captains Sayer and Currie, who were also wheeled past, received similar sympathy.

After the soldiers, came 450 sailors and marines, under Admiral Dundas, who was the first to be decorated. The ceremony over, the non-commissioned officers and men of all services dined in the riding-school, where they were visited by the Queen, her husband, and their children.

THE VOLUNTEER MOVEMENT.

Closely and intimately allied with the intense warlike feeling which prevailed throughout the period which we have been traversing, was the rise, or rather the revival from our grandfathers’ times, of the Volunteer movement, in the winter of 1858-9. This very notable phenomenon of modern days was entirely of spontaneous origin and popular outgrowth. At first the authorities looked but coldly upon it—wisely so, we think—until it evinced inherent elements of vitality and reality of purpose, and until it appeared that it was something more than a mere passing impulse. It was not until the 15th of May, 1859, that a circular from the Secretary for War gave to the movement official sanction, in the form of an authoritative permission by the Queen for the formation of volunteer corps. Ere a twelvemonth had elapsed, 70,000 men had enrolled themselves in England and Scotland; and before the end of the summer of 1860, that number had swollen into 170,000. In many other and more emphatic modes the Queen graciously accorded her own personal sanction and her warm and approving recognition to themovement. At a special levée, held in March, 1859, all volunteer officers had the opportunity of being presented. At the first meeting at Wimbledon of the National Rifle Association, in July, 1860, Her Majesty founded an annual prize, in value £250. At the same meeting she fired the first shot, discharging a rifle, which had been carefully adjusted to a target 400 yards distant. The cheers of the assembled thousands welcomed the impact of the bullet within a quarter of an inch of the bull’s eye, and one of many Swiss gentlemen, who were present as competitors, felicitously remarked that Queen Victoria was nowla première carabinière de l’Angleterre.

THE HYDE PARK REVIEW.

The 23rd of June in this year was a still greater day for the volunteer army, and for the country, for it proved how earnestly the riflemen had devoted themselves to training and to discipline. Her Majesty having expressed her desire to review the young force on that day, arrangements were made by the War Office, whereby every corps that had attained a certain excellence might be represented by its efficient members. The numbers and strength of the corps that presented themselves for inspection caused great surprise. Not only London and Westminster, and the densely populated metropolitan counties, sent ample contingents, but the energies of the railway companies were taxed to the utmost to bring up bodies of men from the west of England, the Midlands, Lancashire, Yorkshire, and East Anglia—even from distant Northumbria. The authorities ultimately found that they would have to make arrangements for placing 20,000 men in review order. The review became a national spectacle, a general holiday was arranged, and an immense assemblage, provincial as well asmetropolitan, was assembled in Hyde Park. The Queen’s stand was placed in the centre of a long line of galleries erected for the accommodation of about 17,000 privileged spectators, its situation being indicated by the Royal Standard planted before it. At different hours of the morning, the provincial corps, some of which must have travelled all night, were landed at the railway termini—the Durham Artillery, which had travelled farthest, being the first to reach King’s Cross. The river steam-boats landed their freights at convenient piers: the suburban bodies mustered at their appointed stations. The whole operation of marching the respective battalions and brigades, amalgamated as agreed on, was performed with unerring precision and perfect ease, thanks to the intelligent zeal of the men and the clear heads of their officers. By two o’clock, 21,000, formed in one long line, extended completely across the park. The space of time which intervened between the successive arrivals of the corps and the commencement of the review, offered one of the most picturesque spectacles witnessed in our days.

Exactly at four o’clock the Queen arrived on the ground in an open carriage. Accompanying her were the King of the Belgians, the Princess Alice, and Prince Arthur. The Prince Consort and the Prince of Wales were on horseback. The Queen was attended by a magnificent following of general officers, aides-de-camp, staff officers, foreign military men of distinction, and the Lords-Lieutenant of the counties which furnished contingents to the force on the ground. There were also in attendance on the Sovereign the Duke of Cambridge and Mr. Sidney Herbert, the official heads of the army.Remarkable amongst the group was Field-Marshal Lord Combermere, who had counted no fewer than seventy years of military duty. As the cortège swept on to the ground the volunteers stood to arms, their bands playing the National Anthem. The scene now presented was in truth a magnificent one. On one side, from north to south, stood the thick lines of the volunteers, their somewhat sombre ranks varied by masses of dark uniforms, with here and there a mass of scarlet, the whole thrown into relief by the background of the trees of Kensington Gardens. From west to east, dense lines of people extended, many being raised head over head by the most precarious and illusory elevations. From north to south, at the eastern end of the park, and facing the line of volunteers, a glittering line of military uniforms of officers and the gay dresses of ladies who accompanied them gave a varied and rich fringe to the human masses of theéliteof the land who occupied the galleries above them. The green space so enclosed was dotted and animated by the bright scarlet, glittering cuirasses, snowy plumes, and jet-black steeds of the Life Guardsmen, who kept the ground.

The Queen, followed by the whole of her brilliant Court, drove to the extreme left of the volunteer line, and thence slowly passed along the whole front to where the extreme right came close up to the lofty houses at Albert Gate. Then turning, she drew up on the open ground, the Royal Standard proudly waving above her. The bands of the Household Brigade being placed opposite her, the volunteers now began to defile past, between Her Majesty and the bands. The march was commenced by the mounted corps, few in number, but admirably equipped and with remarkably fine horses. The infantrywere headed by the Artillery Company, to whom, as the oldest volunteer body existing, not only in England but in Europe, the priority has always been accorded. For an hour and a half corps after corps marched past, until the long succession was closed by a regiment from Cheshire. When the whole had passed, and all had returned to their original positions, the whole line advanced in columns of battalions, and, by signal, cheered Her Majesty with vociferous earnestness. After expressing her high satisfaction with what she had seen, the Queen left the ground about six o’clock. Before eight o’clock all the volunteers had been marched out of the park, and there remained within its gates only meagre remnants of the enormous crowd of spectators.

THE REVIEW AT EDINBURGH.

The opinions of competent authorities on the creditable manner in which this experimental review passed off were of the highest character. The Commander-in-Chief issued a general order, by command of the Queen, in which His Royal Highness spoke in the highest terms of the efficiency displayed by the various corps, and of Her Majesty’s appreciation of the loyalty and devotion exhibited by the volunteer movement. Later in the season the Queen, when on her customary autumnal route to Balmoral, reviewed in the Queen’s Park, at Edinburgh, the volunteers of her northern kingdom, to the number of 12,000.

THE QUEEN IN HER HIGHLAND HOME.

The Queen as an Author—“The Early Years of the Prince Consort”—“Leaves from the Journal of our Life in the Highlands”—Love for Children of all Ranks—Mountain Ascents on Pony-back—In Fingal’s Cave—“The Queen’s Luck”—Salmon-spearing, and a Catastrophe attending it—Erection of a Memorial Cairn—Freedom of Intercourse with Humble Highlanders—Visits to Cottagers—“Mrs. Albert”—Travelling Incognito—Highland Dinners—“A Wedding-Party frae Aberdeen”—A Disguise Detected.

Early in January of the year 1868, Queen Victoria added her name to the distinguished roll of Royal authors. In the year preceding, there had been published a work entitled, “The Early Years of the Prince Consort,” in which the life of her revered and lamented husband is traced from its beginning, down to the first period of their common wedded life. On the title-page of this work appears the name, as author, of General the Honourable Charles Grey, a gentleman who accompanied the Prince in a tour to Italy before his marriage, and who has ever since remained attached, in high capacities, to the Royal Household. This book, to which we have been indebted for important materials reproduced by us at certain of the earlier stages of our narrative, was published with the sanction of Her Majesty, and its compiler received from his Royal Mistress most, if not all, ofthe materials which he very tastefully combined. But the Queen did not appear in it as authorin propriâ personâ, save in the instance of certain occasional notes and addenda to which her imprint is attached. The work published in 1868, on the other hand, “Leaves from the Journal of Our Life in the Highlands,” is entirely, save a brief editorial introduction, from the Queen’s pen. It is precisely, as its name imports, a series of extracts from a journal kept from day to day, and extended from Her Majesty’s earliest married days far into those of her widowhood. Special passages are, in addition, given from similar diaries, which recorded yacht trips to the beautiful estuary of the Tamar, to the Duchy of Cornwall, and to the Channel Islands. There is also furnished a very sparkling and vivacious record of the Queen’s first visit to Ireland, in 1849, which will be found duly recorded by us in a previous chapter.

Nothing charms more in these pages than the love displayed for all young people—for the writer’s own sons and daughters, who are described by their home pet names; “Vicky,” and “Bertie,” standing, for example, for Victoria and Albert—for the infant child of a ducal entertainer, depicted as “a dear, white, fat, fair little fellow,” and “such a merry, independent little child”—or for the children of humble cottagers at Balmoral, for “Mary Symons and Lizzie Stuart dancing so nicely; the latter with her hair all hanging down.” When the Queen and Prince and the children land at Dundee, what charms the fond young mother most is, that “Vicky” behaves like a grown-up person, and is “not put out, nor frightened, nor nervous.” And when a little grandchild of Lord Camperdown presented the youthful Princess Royal with anosegay, the reflection that rose to the mother’s mind was, that she could hardly believe that she was travelling as a wife and a mother; for it seemed but as yesterday that she, as a child, in the tours taken withhermother through England, used to receive similar childish tokens. She was at once put in mind of the time whenshehad been “the little Princess.”

HAPPY DAYS IN THE HIGHLANDS.

Accounts of rides on shaggy Highland ponies to the tops of mountains, and more lengthenedincognitoexcursions in whatever vehicles could be procured at third-rate country inns, are thickly scattered over the pages of the “Journal.”

The Western Islands, as well as the Highlands, were at least on one occasion visited. Anchoring close by wondrous Staffa, the Queen disembarked, and was rowed in a barge into Fingal’s Cave. This was the first time that the British standard, with a Queen of Great Britain and her husband and children, had ever entered the portals of this wondrous freak of nature, and the Gaelic oarsmen gave three cheers, the echoes of which from the inmost recesses of the cave were most impressive.

On another mountain ramble, the Queen seated herself calmly, the youthful Prince of Wales lying among the heather by her side, while Prince Albert went to stalk a deer. He brought down a “royal,” that is, a stag which has over a certain number of “tines” to his horns; on which the somewhat superstitious Highland keeper at once said that “it was Her Majesty’s coming out that had brought the good luck.” The Highlanders all believed that the Queen had “a lucky foot.”

SALMON-SPEARING IN SCOTLAND.

Amongst other Highland sports which curiosity and great love of adventure led her to witness, was salmonspearing, or “leistering.” While the keepers were beating the waters, the Highland gentlemen wading in the stream, and Prince Albert watching, spear in hand, on a boulder, the Queen watched from the brink this, the most exciting of all river sports, save, perhaps, otter hunting. Suddenly she was alarmed, and with most abundant cause. Two of the men imprudently went into a very deep pool. One of them could not swim, and he sank to the bottom. There was a cry for help, and a general rush by the Prince and others to the spot. The Queen was much frightened, and grasped the arm of the minister in attendance, Lord Carlisle, in great agony. But Dr. Robertson, the Queen’s “factor,” or agent over the Balmoral estate, swam in and got the too venturesome Gael out safely. The Queen, after this “horrid moment,” had the satisfaction of seeing eight salmon speared or netted; and was further amused by a curious piece of Highland courtesy—her own “men” carrying all the “men” of Colonel Forbes, a neighbour, dry shod on their backs through the water. They had come to see the sport, and the Queen’s gillies at once insisted on their conveying them to the most favourable side of the stream.

A great day was that on which a cairn was erected on one of the heights overlooking Balmoral to celebrate the building of the new castle, which the Queen raised in lieu of the mansion which had stood on the estate when she was its tenant, and ere by its purchase she entered into proprietary possession. The morning was a fine one, and at eleven o’clock the Royal party started for the ascent of Craig Cowan, where already nearly all the dependants were assembled. The Royal children, and all the ladies and gentlemen, accompanied the Queen and Prince. Allthe children of the Queen’s neighbouring tenants, and of her servants, were already on the top. The Queen laid the first stone, and the Prince the second, and then their children according to their ages. Then all the ladies and gentlemen of the Court placed a stone each. The pipers played the while, and whisky was served out to every one. It took an hour to build the cairn, and dancing and merry revels went on without intermission until its completion; the very oldest of the women danced, and the youngsters were wild with glee. An old favourite dog sat reflectively contemplating a scene to which his veteran gravity prevented his indulging in any responsive and sympathetic gambols. At last when the cairn, having attained to the respectable height of some eight feet, was pronounced all but complete, the Prince climbed to its summit and placed the last stone, and three hearty cheers announced to the dwellers below the completion of the enterprise and edifice. The Queen concludes her chronicle of its erection in these words:—“It was a gay, pretty, and touching sight, and I felt almost inclined to cry. The view was so beautiful over the dear hills, the day so fine, the whole sogemüthlich. May God bless this place, and allow us yet to see it and enjoy it many a long year!”

The Queen and her family have always made it a practice to enter into the freest and most unrestrained conversation with the dignified, independent, courteous, and truly well-bred Highlanders. As she rode along a hill-side one day, “Alice and Bertie” accompanying her on foot, Prince Albert was conversing very gaily with one of the gillies, upon which the one who led the Queen’s pony observed, “It’s very pleasant to walk witha person who is always content.” And when the Queen, following up her attendant’s remark, said that he was never cross after bad sport, the gillie rejoined, “Every one on the estate says there never was so kind a master; our only wish is to give satisfaction.” The Queen replied that that wish they certainly succeeded in fulfilling. And at a future date the Queen thus annotated that passage in her journal from which we have been borrowing:—“We were always in the habit of conversing with the Highlanders, with whom we came so much in contact in the Highlands. The Prince highly appreciated the good breeding, simplicity, and intelligence which makes it so pleasant, and even instructive, to talk to them.”

THE QUEEN AND SCOTTISH COTTAGERS.

The Queen takes especial pleasure in visiting the old women’s cottages, by some of whom, we have been told, she is not unfrequently addressed—or at least was so, when she was yet new to the north and the northerners new to her—as “Mrs. Albert.” One old dame of eighty-six, erect and dignified as she sat at her spinning-wheel, received personally from Her Majesty the gift of a warm flannel petticoat. This was her pious and eloquent form of thanks: “May the Lord ever attend you and yours, here and hereafter, and may the Lord be a guide to ye, and keep ye from all harm!” Another aged pensioner, who was quite friendly, and shook hands with all her party of visitors, chose this form of benediction: “May the Lord attend you with mirth and with joy; may He ever be with you in this world, and when ye leave it!”

THE QUEEN IN DISGUISE.

The Queen’s mode of travelling as anincognitahas never gone beyond a journey of three or four days’ duration to some Highland district, in which the very amplitude of her retinue, even when abridged of itsusual proportions, prevented her passing otherwise than as a person of distinction, but in which it was possible to keep herqueenlyrank undiscovered. Sometimes the mask was successfully worn to the end of the trip, to the great enjoyment of the Queen, her “gentle” attendants, and her servants. On one or two occasions, recognitions, unfortunate for the success of the very innocent plot, were made by persons to whom the Queen’s face was familiar. On one of these trips, two shabby vehicles contained the whole party, which consisted of the Royal pair, Sir George Grey, Lady Churchill, and a small complement of servants. It had been arranged that the tourists should pass as Lord and Lady Churchill (the Queen and Prince assuming theserôles), Lady Churchill becoming Miss Spencer, and Sir George Grey becoming “Dr.” Grey. Once or twice the servants, who were of necessity in the plot, forgot their instructions, and blurted out “your Majesty,” and “your Royal Highness;” but, luckily, no one heard thefaux pas. After a very long and fatiguing drive through a district remarkably denuded of habitations, they arrived, at nightfall, at an inn of very small pretensions. They alighted, Sir George Grey and Lady Churchill, faithful to the necessities of the situation, giving no indication, by any deference of manner, of the quality of their fellow-travellers. Being ushered into small but tidy sleeping and dressing apartments, they had their travel-stains removed, and sat down to such a dinner as the resources of the establishment afforded. The two gillies in attendance were to have waited at table, but their bashfulness prevented their undertaking duties so entirely out of their line; so a damsel in ringlets, attached to the inn,performed the necessary duties. The repast consisted of a very delicate and delicious Scottish soup, known as “hodge-podge”—which, to be tasted to perfection, however, must be partaken of in early summer, when vegetables (of many kinds of which it is composed) are young and tender—mutton broth, fowls, “good” roast lamb, and “very good” potatoes. A bottle of wine the travellers had taken care to bring with them. They were less fortunate on the occasion of another similar trip, when all that could be procured was a couple of remarkably small and lean fowls, the remnants of which were sent down to the servants, with appetites rendered voracious by the keen mountain air. On this latter trip, a commercial traveller was much annoyed at his exclusion from the “commercial room,” which was reserved for the servants. In answer to his remonstrance, the landlady pacified him by stating that the guests, who occupied her whole house, were “a wedding-party frae Aberdeen.”

When the cavalcade of the two “shabby vehicles” drove away, on the next morning, it was evident that “the murder was out,” and that the inmates of the inn had discovered the quality of their guests, and communicated it to the scanty population of the village; for “all the people were in the street, and the landlady waved a pocket-handkerchief, and the ringletted maid a flag, from the window.”

THE WIDOWED QUEEN.

Unbroken Happiness of the Queen’s Life up to 1861—Death of the Duchess of Kent—The Prince Consort slightly Ailing—Catches Cold at Cambridge and Eton—The Malady becomes Serious—Public Alarm—Rapid Sinking, and Death—Sorrow of the People—The Queen’s Fortitude—Avoidance of Court Display—Good Deeds—Sympathy with all Benevolent Actions—Letter of Condolence to the Widow of President Lincoln—The Albert Medal—Conclusion.

Until 1861 the Queen had never known bereavement in the circle of her own immediate family. Nine children had been born to her, and, although it is understood that certain of her younger offspring do not possess that robustness of health which their elder brothers and sisters enjoy, yet not one had been snatched from their loving parents by the hand of the Great Destroyer. Early in 1861 came the first pang of bereavement. The Duchess of Kent, ripe in years, one of the best of mothers and one of the best of grandmothers, a lady to whose memory all Britons now and hereafter owe an incalculable debt of gratitude, passed peacefully away with her descendants gathered around her bedside.

LAST DAYS OF PRINCE ALBERT.

When the Royal Family returned from Balmoral in October, it was observed that the Prince Consort was not in his usual health and vigour, but he had no pronounced ailment, and nothing approaching to serious alarm was for many weeks apprehended. In the course ofthe succeeding month he went to Cambridge, to visit the Prince of Wales, who was a student at that University, as he had previously been for a short time at Oxford. He went out shooting while there, got wet, and, as the Duke of Kent had done, was so imprudent as to sit down without removing his wet clothes. Nevertheless, on his return to Windsor, he pursued his usual daily avocations. About the beginning of December he appeared in public with the Queen, and reviewed the volunteer corps raised among the Eton boys. The rain fell fast, and the Prince was seized on the review ground with acute pains in the back. Feverish symptoms supervened, and the doctors ordered confinement to his room. Still no alarm was entertained, and it was believed that he suffered only from a passing malady. The general public knew nothing of the ailment until some solicitude was caused by a bulletin, which appeared in theCourt Circularof the 8th December:—

His Royal Highness the Prince Consort has been confined to his apartments for the past week, suffering from a feverish cold, with pains in his limbs. Within the last few days the feverish symptoms have rather increased, and are likely to continue for some time longer, but there are no unfavourable symptoms. The party which had been invited by Her Majesty’s command to assemble at Windsor Castle on Monday has been countermanded.

Not until the 13th was any bulletin issued which caused real anxiety and alarm. On the day following, the morning papers contained the ominous announcement that he had “passed a restless night, and the symptoms had assumed an unfavourable character during the day.” TheTimes, in a leading article, while hoping for the best, startled all by its statement that “the fever which has attacked himis a weakening and wearying malady.” On the morning of Saturday there was a favourable turn, but which was soon followed by a most serious relapse. About four p.m. the fever assumed a malignant typhoid type, and he began to sink with such rapidity that all stimulants failed to check the quick access of weakness. At nine o’clock a telegram was received in the City that the Prince was dying fast, and at a few minutes before eleven all was over. “On Saturday night last,” said one of the daily journals of the succeeding Monday, “at an hour when the shops in the metropolis had hardly closed, when the theatres were delighting thousands of pleasure-seekers, when the markets were thronged with humble buyers seeking to provide for their Sunday requirements, when the foot-passengers yet lingered in the half-emptied streets, allured by the soft air of a calm, clear evening, a family in which the whole interest of this great nation is centred were assembled, less than five-and-twenty miles away, in the Royal residence at Windsor, in the deepest affliction around the death-bed of a beloved husband and father. In the prime of life, without—so to speak—a longer warning than that of forty-eight hours, Prince Albert, the Consort of our Queen, the parent of our future Monarchs, has been stricken down by a short but malignant disorder.” Shortly after midnight, the great bell of St. Paul’s, which is never tolled except upon the death of a member of the Royal Family, boomed the fatal tidings over a district extending, in the quietude of the early Sabbath morn, for miles around the metropolis.

DEATH OF PRINCE ALBERT.

The Queen, the Princess Alice, and the Prince of Wales, who had been hastily summoned from Cambridge, sat with the dying good man until the last. After theclosing scene the Queen supported herself nobly, and after a short burst of uncontrollable grief, she is said to have gathered her children around her, and addressed them in the most solemn and affectionate terms. “She declared to her family that, though she felt crushed by the loss of one who had been her companion through life, she knew how much was expected of her, and she accordingly called on her children to give her their assistance, in order that she might do her duty to them and the country.” The Duke of Cambridge and many gentlemen connected with the Court, with six of the Royal children, were present at the Prince’s death. In answer to some one of those present who tenderly offered condolence, the Queen is reported to have said: “I suppose I must not fret too much, for many poor women have to go through the same trial.”

The sad news became generally known in the metropolis and in the great cities of the empire early on Sunday. Unusually large congregations filled the churches and chapels at morning service. “There was a solemn eloquence in the subdued but distinctly perceptible sensation which crept over the congregations in the principal churches when, in the prayer for the Royal family, the Prince Consort’s name was omitted. It was well remarked, if ever the phrase was permissible, it might then be truly said that the name of the departed Prince was truly conspicuous by its absence, for never was the gap that this event has made in our national life, as well as in the domestic happiness of the Palace, more vividly realised than when the name that has mingled so familiarly in our prayers for the last twenty years was, for the first time, left out of our public devotions.” Manythousands of mute pious petitions were specially addressed to Heaven for the bereaved widow and orphans when the prayer of the Litany for “all who are desolate and oppressed” was uttered, and in the chapels of Nonconformists the extemporaneous prayers of the ministers gave articulate expression to the heartfelt orisons of the silent worshippers. Every one thought of and felt for the Queen, and during the week intervening between the death and the funeral, the question on every one’s lips in all places of resort, and where men and women congregated, was, “How will the Queen bear it?”

Prince Albert sleeps the long sleep at Frogmore, to which his mortal remains were borne reverently, and without ostentation, as he himself would have wished. The inscription on his coffin ran thus:—

depositumIllustrissimi et Celsissimi Alberti,principis consortis,ducis saxoniæ,de saxe-coburg et gotha principis,nobilissimi ordinis periscelidis equitis,augustissimæ et potentissimæ victoriæ reginæ,conjugis percarissimi,obiit die decimo quarto decembris, mdccclxi.anno ætatis suæ xliii.

[Here lies the most illustrious and exalted Albert, Prince Consort, Duke of Saxony, Prince of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha, Knight of the Most Noble Order of the Garter, the most beloved husband of the most august and potent Queen Victoria. He died on the fourteenth day of December, 1861, in the forty-third year of his age.]

Thus died and was buried a great and a good man, one of the most useful men of his age, one to whom England owes much.

“For that he loved our Queen,And, for her sake, the people of her love,Few and far distant names shall rank aboveHis own, where England’s cherish’d names are seen.”

THE QUEEN IN HER WIDOWHOOD.

The Queen has ever since her great bereavement most constantly and piously revered the Prince’s memory. Her reverence has taken the practical form of the deepest sympathy with the woes and sorrows of the poorest and humblest of her subjects. She has eschewed the pomp and ceremony of State, and deliberately set herself to discover and soothe sorrow, and to recognise all good deeds of the same character performed by others. When the noble Peabody bestowed his princely act of munificence on the poor of London, no recognition was made of his generosity more signal than that made by the Queen. She has been among the first to help by loving words and by practical aid the sufferers by any great national calamity—a Lancashire famine, a shipwreck or railway accident, a colliery explosion, a catastrophe caused by mad and futile sedition. Ready and sympathetic condolence has especially flowed from her to those bereaved like herself, and when President Lincoln perished at his post, the Queen sent to his widow a long letter which her son described as “the outgushing of a woman’s heartfelt sympathy,” and which, with rare and commendable good taste, has never been exposed to the public eye. Most fitly has she specially commemorated her husband’s memory by the institution of a fit companion and complement to the Victoria Cross, the “Albert Medal,” which is bestowed on brave men who save lives from the “Peril of the Sea or Shipwreck.”

Many consolations have been vouchsafed by Heavento the widowed Queen. Since she lost her great stay and support her realm has for the most part been prosperous and contented. Though environed by many troubles, and though the clang of battle has shaken the world, the dove of peace has benignantly hovered o’er Britain. Much advance has been made in those fields of social, moral, political, and educational improvement which were so dear to Albert’s heart, as they have always been to her own. And shortly before the period when these pages are first given to the public, the political progress of the nation has received a great stimulus, such as is given in a people’s history only at rare and long intervals. Her children grow up from youth to maturity, and from maturity to maternity and paternity, without a slur upon their fair names, and are, with those to whom the elder of them have united themselves in wedlock, all that a proud mother’s heart could wish. God has stricken her; but He has proved also an Infinite Healer and Solacer. Ours be it to add to the ordinary motives of patriotism, those more tender and touching influences which arise from the recollection that our Queen is now, as said that Queen of England whose subjects were Shakespeare and Bacon, Spenser and Sidney—“Married to her People.”

THE END.

CASSELL, PETTER, AND GALPIN, BELLE SAUVAGE WORKS, LONDON, E.C.

CASSELL’SREPRESENTATIVE BIOGRAPHIES.Vol. I.Life of John Bright50 cents.Vol. II.Life of W. E. Gladstone50 cents.Vol. III.Life of B. Disraeli50 cents.Vol. IV.Life of Queen Victoria75 cents.⁂OTHER VOLUMES IN PREPARATION.FELT & DILLINGHAM,455, BROOME STREET,NEW YORK.LIST OF JUVENILE BOOKSKEPT ON SALE BYFELT & DILLINGHAM,455, Broome Street, New York.Little Songs for Me to Sing.Illustrated by J. E. Millais, R. A.; with Music composed expressly for the Work by Henry Leslie. Square 16mo $2 75The Child’s Garland of Little Poems; Rhymes for Little People. With Exquisite Illustrative Borders by Giacomelli. Square 8vo, cloth gilt $3 00Bright Thoughts for the Little Ones.Twenty-seven Original Drawings by Procter. With Prose and Verse byGrandmamma. Square 8vo, cloth gilt $3 00Cassell’s Picture Book for the Nursery.Royal 4to size, full of Illustrations, with appropriate Text for Young Children. Bound in embellished boards $2 00Bound in cloth, with coloured centre-piece $2 50The same with coloured pictures $4 00Dame Dingle’s Fairy Tales for Good Children.Handsomely bound in cloth, with gilt edges $2 00Æsop’s Fables, in Words of One Syllable.With Illustrations printed in colours. Handsomely bound in cloth, gilt $1 75Sandford and Merton, in Words of One Syllable.With Illustrations printed in colours. Handsomely bound in cloth, gilt $1 75Peggy, and other Tales, including theHistory of a Threepenny Bit, and the Story of a Sovereign. With Eight Illustrations. Handsomely bound in cloth, gilt $1 50Old Burchell’s Pocket: A New Book for the Young Folks.ByElihu Burritt. Illustrated with Twelve Engravings. Bound in cloth, gilt $1 50Cloudland, Shadowland, and Windland; or,Adventures of Uncle Whitecloud and Little Goldenhaze. With Eight Illustrations. Bound in cloth, gilt $1 50Lily and Nannie at School.With Eight Illustrations. Bound in cloth, gilt $1 50The Queen of the Tournament.With Eight Illustrations. Bound in cloth, gilt $1 50Mince-Pie Island.With Eight Illustrations. Bound in cloth, gilt $1 50New Stories and Old Legends.By Mrs.T. K. Hervey. With Illustrations printed in colours. Cloth, gilt edges $1 00Owen Carstone: A Story of School Life.With Illustrations in colours. Cloth, gilt edges $1 00The Story of the Hamiltons.With Illustrations printed in colours. Cloth, gilt edges $1 00The Holidays at Llandudno.With Illustrations printed in colours. Cloth, gilt 75c.The Hop Garden: A Story of Town and Country Life.With Illustrations printed in colours. Cloth, gilt 75c.Algy’s Lesson.With Illustrations printed in colours. Cloth, gilt 75c.Ashfield Farm: A Holiday Story.With Illustrations printed in colours. Cloth, gilt 75c.Beatrice Langton; or, The Spirit of Obedience. Cloth, gilt edges $1 00The Story of Arthur Hunter and his First Shilling.Cloth, gilt edges $1 00Philip and his Garden.ByCharlotte Elizabeth. Cloth, gilt edges $1 00FIFTY CENT TOY-BOOKS.(In Demy 4to, stiff covers.)With Full-Page Illustrations printed in colours byKronheim.HOW COCK SPARROW SPENT HIS CHRISTMAS.THE ADVENTURES OF ROBINSON CRUSOE.QUEER CREATURES,DRAWN BYONEOFTHEMSELVES.ÆSOP’S FABLES. (21 Plates.)Old Friends and New Faces,COMPRISINGROBINSON CRUSOE.COCK SPARROW.QUEER CREATURES.ÆSOP’S FABLES.With 24 Full-Page Illustrations, beautifully printed in colours byKronheim.In Demy 4to, on cloth, elegantly gilt $2 50⁂Any Book on this List sent postage or express paid, on receipt of price.

CASSELL’SREPRESENTATIVE BIOGRAPHIES.

Vol. I.

Life of John Bright50 cents.

Vol. II.

Life of W. E. Gladstone50 cents.

Vol. III.

Life of B. Disraeli50 cents.

Vol. IV.

Life of Queen Victoria75 cents.

⁂OTHER VOLUMES IN PREPARATION.

FELT & DILLINGHAM,

455, BROOME STREET,NEW YORK.

LIST OF JUVENILE BOOKS

KEPT ON SALE BY

FELT & DILLINGHAM,

455, Broome Street, New York.

Little Songs for Me to Sing.Illustrated by J. E. Millais, R. A.; with Music composed expressly for the Work by Henry Leslie. Square 16mo $2 75

The Child’s Garland of Little Poems; Rhymes for Little People. With Exquisite Illustrative Borders by Giacomelli. Square 8vo, cloth gilt $3 00

Bright Thoughts for the Little Ones.Twenty-seven Original Drawings by Procter. With Prose and Verse byGrandmamma. Square 8vo, cloth gilt $3 00

Cassell’s Picture Book for the Nursery.Royal 4to size, full of Illustrations, with appropriate Text for Young Children. Bound in embellished boards $2 00

Bound in cloth, with coloured centre-piece $2 50

The same with coloured pictures $4 00

Dame Dingle’s Fairy Tales for Good Children.Handsomely bound in cloth, with gilt edges $2 00

Æsop’s Fables, in Words of One Syllable.With Illustrations printed in colours. Handsomely bound in cloth, gilt $1 75

Sandford and Merton, in Words of One Syllable.With Illustrations printed in colours. Handsomely bound in cloth, gilt $1 75

Peggy, and other Tales, including theHistory of a Threepenny Bit, and the Story of a Sovereign. With Eight Illustrations. Handsomely bound in cloth, gilt $1 50

Old Burchell’s Pocket: A New Book for the Young Folks.ByElihu Burritt. Illustrated with Twelve Engravings. Bound in cloth, gilt $1 50

Cloudland, Shadowland, and Windland; or,Adventures of Uncle Whitecloud and Little Goldenhaze. With Eight Illustrations. Bound in cloth, gilt $1 50

Lily and Nannie at School.With Eight Illustrations. Bound in cloth, gilt $1 50

The Queen of the Tournament.With Eight Illustrations. Bound in cloth, gilt $1 50

Mince-Pie Island.With Eight Illustrations. Bound in cloth, gilt $1 50

New Stories and Old Legends.By Mrs.T. K. Hervey. With Illustrations printed in colours. Cloth, gilt edges $1 00

Owen Carstone: A Story of School Life.With Illustrations in colours. Cloth, gilt edges $1 00

The Story of the Hamiltons.With Illustrations printed in colours. Cloth, gilt edges $1 00

The Holidays at Llandudno.With Illustrations printed in colours. Cloth, gilt 75c.

The Hop Garden: A Story of Town and Country Life.With Illustrations printed in colours. Cloth, gilt 75c.

Algy’s Lesson.With Illustrations printed in colours. Cloth, gilt 75c.

Ashfield Farm: A Holiday Story.With Illustrations printed in colours. Cloth, gilt 75c.

Beatrice Langton; or, The Spirit of Obedience. Cloth, gilt edges $1 00

The Story of Arthur Hunter and his First Shilling.Cloth, gilt edges $1 00

Philip and his Garden.ByCharlotte Elizabeth. Cloth, gilt edges $1 00

FIFTY CENT TOY-BOOKS.

(In Demy 4to, stiff covers.)

With Full-Page Illustrations printed in colours byKronheim.

HOW COCK SPARROW SPENT HIS CHRISTMAS.

THE ADVENTURES OF ROBINSON CRUSOE.

QUEER CREATURES,DRAWN BYONEOFTHEMSELVES.

ÆSOP’S FABLES. (21 Plates.)

Old Friends and New Faces,

COMPRISING

With 24 Full-Page Illustrations, beautifully printed in colours byKronheim.

In Demy 4to, on cloth, elegantly gilt $2 50

⁂Any Book on this List sent postage or express paid, on receipt of price.

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