In the magnificent procession which attended the Queen to and from
Westminster Abbey, no figure attracted more attention, or excited
greater admiration, than that of the Crown Prince of Germany, in his
white Cuirassier's uniform, and rivetting all eyes by his noble head and
majestic bearing. Little was it then dreamed that within a year he was
to succeed his father as Emperor of the Germans, when himself stricken
by the cruel malady under which he sank within a few months after his
accession. The tragic circumstances of his death awakened a very
profound feeling throughout this country, and men's thoughts turned to
the uncrowned Empress whom he left behind, and also to the Queen, who
thus saw the fair hopes blighted, with which she and the Prince Consort
had resigned their first and highly gifted child to the man of her
heart, by whose side they might expect in time to see her throned as
sovereign over a mighty kingdom.
The Emperor Frederic died on the 15th of June 1888. As soon as her
health permitted, the widowed Empress decided to come to England for a
time; and the Queen wrote to me suggesting that some special expression
of public sympathy should meet her daughter on her arrival. That this
sympathy would be generally and warmly expressed through the usual
channels could not be doubted. But I ventured to think, that the
expression of it might not unfitly be concentrated in the compacter form
of verse. With this view I wrote the following sonnet, which appeared in
the _Standard_ two days before the Empress reached England:--
TO THE EMPRESS FREDERIC.
_On her arriving in England, 17th November 1888._
When England sent thee forth, a joyous bride,
A prayer went through the land, that on thy head
Might all best blessings bounteously be shed,
And his, the lover-husband by thy side;
And England marked with ever-growing pride,
As onwards still the years full-freighted sped,
How wrought in both the grace of worth inbred,
To noblest acts and purposes allied.
With eyes of longing, not undimmed by tears,
England now greets thee, desolate and lone,
Heart-stricken, widowed of the twofold crown
Of love and empire; and the grief endears,
Remembering all the cherished hopes o'erthrown,
When at their height thy heart's lord was struck down.
I also wrote this other sonnet, which appeared in the _Morning Post_ on
the day of the Empress's arrival:--
TO THE EMPRESS FREDERIC.
_19th November 1888._
Oh lady, how our hearts were pang'd,[29] when he,
Whom late we saw, in England's festal hour,
Ride through our streets in manhood's stateliest power,
Hail'd by all eyes a star of chivalry,
Through long sad months of sorest agony,
Faced martyr-like the doom, that hour by hour
He saw still near and ever nearer lour,
To tear him from his country and from thee;
Thee of the childlike heart and manlike brain,
Fit in all ways to share a monarch's throne,
Who made his people's good his chiefest care!
Oh noble heart, all England shares thy pain,
And in thy grief thou wilt feel less alone,
'Midst all the love that waits to greet thee there!
The 9th line of this sonnet was prompted by an incident on the last
occasion that I met the Crown Prince and Princess together at Windsor
Castle. "Do you know," he said to me, "what her father said of her?"
"Oh, Fritz," the Princess broke in, anticipating what he was going to
tell me, "you should not speak of such a thing." "I will speak of it,"
he continued, looking at her with eyes of affectionate pride. "Why
should I not? It is only the truth. The Prince Consort said, 'She has
the heart of a child, the brain of a man!'" That her father so thought
of her I had seen many proofs in the private correspondence which was
placed in my hands while I was writing his life.
I sent these Sonnets to the Queen, and on November 13 she wrote: "The
Queen thanks Sir T. Martin for his two kind letters, and the two
exquisite little Sonnets. They should certainly be published, and a
special copy be prepared for her poor dear persecuted daughter." A few
days afterwards (November 20) the Queen again wrote: "The Queen encloses
a letter from her dear daughter the Empress, which she is sure he will
be pleased to receive." This was a letter thanking me in very gratifying
terms for my Sonnets. "She thanks him again," the Queen continued, "for
her two kind letters and the lovely poems.... The dear Empress is very
sad. The arrival upset her terribly, but she struggles bravely with the
dreadful misfortune, and takes an interest in other things. But it is a
misfortune which one cannot understand, and which is a great trial to
one's faith. One can but say, as one of her Indian attendants (who are
all Mohammedans), an excellent, very refined, and gentle young man,
said, 'God ordered it!'..."
A few days afterwards I had a long and most interesting interview with
the Empress at Windsor Castle, and was told of things which explained
what was meant by the Queen in speaking of her as her "poor dear
persecuted daughter." They have now happily sunk into oblivion.
Early in the 'Seventies the Queen intimated to me her great desire to
visit North Wales, if a house could be found there suitable for her
stay. On looking round the counties of Denbigh and Merioneth, where the
Queen wished especially to go, so as to be within reach of some of the
best Welsh scenery and also to be seen by the large bodies of workers in
coal and other mines and industries, to which the county chiefly owes
its prosperity, the mansion of my friend the late Henry Robertson, C.E.,
at Pale on the Dee, between Corwen and Bala, seemed the most eligible in
itself, besides having the advantage of being close to the Llanderfel
station on the railway from Ruabon to Dolgelly and Festiniog. It was at
once placed by Mr Robertson at Her Majesty's disposal; but the projected
visit fell through, owing to the pressure of various engagements which
compelled the Queen to abandon it for the time.
The project was again mentioned to me by Her Majesty in the following
letter, November 4, 1889;--
"The Queen thanks Sir Theodore for the newspaper, and his article on
Wales, which interests her _very_ much. This brings her to the subject
of the visit, once contemplated, to Wales. Would that be possible? by
the loan of a house like the one mentioned at that time by Sir Theodore?
She believes a short visit of four or five days there would do good. She
can no longer ride up hills, but she can drive, and go to some places
where her presence might be useful."
Mr Robertson was dead, but his son and successor in the Pale estate, Mr,
now Sir Henry Beyer Robertson, was delighted to have the opportunity of
fulfilling his father's intention. On being made aware of this, the
Queen decided to make the visit in the summer of the following year on
her way to Balmoral. When this decision became known, the people of the
principality, who are as a rule most loyal, looked forward with
enthusiasm to the prospect of seeing among them the Queen, who had
hitherto been to them only a revered name. Everything was done which
loyalty could devise to show how highly the royal presence among them
was valued. The only cloud on the general satisfaction was the knowledge
that the visit could only be for a very few days--from the 23rd to the
28th of August, one of which was a Sunday.
The Queen arrived at Pale on the 23rd at 7 A.M., and had not been many
hours there before she received a deputation of the farm tenants of the
adjoining district, who had prepared a walking-stick of their native
wood for Her Majesty's acceptance. They were surprised, and more than
delighted, by the royal acceptance of it being made in Welsh, the Queen
having immediately on her arrival taken pains to learn so much of that
far from easy language as served her for this and other similar
occasions. In no other way could Her Majesty have so thoroughly touched
the hearts of her Welsh subjects. The incident, of which the tidings
spread over Wales within a few hours, heightened the enthusiasm with
which she was everywhere received. Two days afterwards this was markedly
shown in her public visit to Wrexham, the centre of the mining and other
industries of Denbighshire, where a reception in Aston Park, the
property of Sir Robert Cunliffe, admirably arranged by the Mayor and
Corporation of Wrexham, awaited Her Majesty. All the leading people of
the adjoining counties were present, and many hundred thousands of the
working population assembled both there and on the five miles of road
along which the Queen drove from Ruabon, to which the royal train had
come from Pale. A choir of 600 singers gave the Queen her first idea of
the choral singing for which Wales is famous. The demeanour of the
working men, rough in exterior, and not always on ordinary occasions
gentle in manners, produced a most favourable impression on Her Majesty.
"They all behaved like gentlemen," she said to me when, two days
afterwards, accompanied by the Prince and Princess Henry of Battenberg
and the Princess Alix of Hesse (now the Czarina), she honoured Lady
Martin and myself by a visit to our villa near Llangollen. It had not
occurred to us why the Queen had chosen that day, the 26th of August,
for the visit. But the reason flashed upon us, when, turning to Lady
Martin as she inscribed her name with the date on a sheet of paper
prepared for the purpose, she looked up and said, "The dear Prince's
birthday!" Then we saw that as the Prince's _Life_ had been written in
my study there, Her Majesty had chosen that day for her visit--surely a
very delicately imagined tribute to the author.
Several Welsh airs were sung for the Queen on this visit by a selected
number of the Llangollen choir, chiefly young ladies. When they had
finished, Her Majesty asked me to what class the singers belonged, as
she had observed greater refinement in their execution than in any of
the other choirs she had heard in Wales. She was also struck by the
admirable way they had sustained the pitch from beginning to end of all
the choral pieces sung without the drop of half a tone. Only an ear
finely trained to a subtle appreciation of musical execution could have
noticed these points.
It had been greatly desired that the Queen should visit Festiniog, both
for the beauty of the scenery and to satisfy the loyal feelings of the
large and intelligent slate-making population of that district. This was
found to be impracticable, but a hope was held out that the omission
might be remedied by another visit to North Wales. A few days after her
arrival at Balmoral the Queen wrote: "The Queen and her children have
brought with them the pleasantest recollections of Wales, its beauty,
and the kindness and loyalty of its people. The Queen was greatly
pleased to have been able to see Sir Theodore and Lady Martin's charming
home."
Again in the following year (September 3, 1891) Her Majesty wrote:--
"The Queen thanks Sir T. Martin for his letter of the 26th, on which
dear day last year we made that charming expedition to Llangollen and
visited Sir Theodore and Lady Martin at their delightful little Welsh
home at Bryntysilio. The recollection of the Queen's visit to Wales is a
most pleasing one, to which she often looks back, and hopes to repeat
some day. She would wish to go again to Pale, to which most pleasant and
comfortable house Sir H. Robertson has again and again invited her to
return. The Queen could visit Harlech Castle and Llanberis, &c., from
Pale, returning at night, could she not? The Queen uses the Welsh stick,
so kindly given her by the farmers and people at Pale, very often, and
always when she travels and wants a good strong one."
Greatly to the disappointment of the good people of Wales, Her Majesty
never found it possible to fulfil this contemplated second visit.
In the correspondence which continued at intervals during the ensuing
years there is nothing that is available for the object of this
monograph. But in November 1896 Her Majesty gave me an opportunity of
expressing briefly my views of what an authentic Life of herself should
be, of which I was not sorry to avail myself. On the 10th of that month
she wrote to me:--
"The Queen is glad that Sir Theodore approves the idea of a short Life
of her husband being set in hand and published.
"She so much wishes that something should be done about her own Life, as
so many people have published and are publishing her Life, with the best
intentions, full of extraordinary fabrications and untruths."
Some further communications on the subject took place, and on the 22nd
of that month I wrote as follows:--
"Sir Theodore Martin, with his humble duty, has the honour to
acknowledge the receipt of Her Majesty's gracious letter of the 20th.
"Sir Theodore is much impressed by what the Queen says as to the
desirableness of a Life of Her Majesty, which might put a stop to the
gossiping fabrications which have of late become so current. The subject
has long been present to his mind. While the Queen lives, he fears the
inventors of these fictions must have their way. But that the story of
Her Majesty's Life should be truthfully and sympathetically told for
posterity is a matter of the highest importance. In a great measure the
work must be historical, and will demand the skill of some one capable
of dealing with the events of Her Majesty's reign, and of the political
history of the civilized world, from the date of the Prince Consort's
death onwards. It would be most desirable to lay the foundation of such
a work with Her Majesty's direct assistance, could a biographer with the
necessary qualifications be found. There will be the difficulty; but,
until he can be found, would it be possible for Her Majesty to suggest
the lines on which the Life should be written, and to furnish to some
trusted person the facts and incidents of which Her Majesty would wish a
record to be made?
"The materials must be abundant in Her Majesty's diaries and
correspondence, and they would form the basis of a work of infinite
value and instruction to future times. So much that is false and
misleading is sure to be written in these days of reckless and
unscrupulous writing, that every loyal subject of Her Majesty must wish
that it should in Her Majesty's case be crushed at the outset. Nothing
would do this so effectually as the knowledge that the true story would
be told, based upon authentic information as to the private as well as
public life of the Queen.
"Sir Theodore makes the above suggestion with all deference to Her
Majesty's better judgment. His excuse must be his ardent desire that the
story of a life, which he most deeply honours and reveres, should be
fitly told for the days to come."
The Queen, I believe, in so far concurred with my suggestion, that she
endeavoured to persuade at least one writer of distinction as a
historian to agree to become her biographer. He came to the conclusion
that the task of dealing with a subject so vast, and also with a
character so complex as that of Her Majesty, was one with which he could
not grapple consistently with the duties of a high position which he had
already undertaken. Whether any further attempt was made in the same
direction I am not aware.
And so the years went on, bringing us from time to time assurances of
the Queen's continued interest in Lady Martin and myself. In 1896, when
the new Victorian Order was established, I was among the first on whom
the Commandership of the Order was conferred. The Insignia of the Order
reached me with the following letter:--
"BALMORAL CASTLE, _Sept. 14, 1896_.
"The Queen has heard that Sir Theodore Martin will celebrate his
80th birthday on the 16th, which seems to her hardly possible from
his appearance. She wishes him to accept her warmest and most
heartfelt good wishes for his happiness and welfare for many a year.
The Queen wishes on this occasion to mark her sense of Sir
Theodore's valuable services, and sends him the decoration of Knight
Commander of her new personal 'Victoria Order.'
"She hopes Lady Martin has recovered from her last indisposition,
and that no anxiety on her account may mar the happiness of this
day."
On every Christmas morning the Queen sent greetings and good wishes to
my wife with an inscribed Christmas card, and to myself, with some
framed work of art, or valuable book. In 1897, when all the world was
alive with congratulations on the memorable celebration of Her Majesty's
Diamond Jubilee, the words which appeared in two of her perfect
Addresses to her people inspired me to express, as before, what I
conceived was in her heart in writing these Addresses. I give them here,
because they were stamped with Her Majesty's approval. "The Queen," she
wrote, "thanks Sir Theodore Martin very much for his most kind letter,
and the Sonnets enclosed, which it has touched her much that he should
write. Of course they may be published in the _Times_;" and they were
published there accordingly.
THE QUEEN AT ST PAUL'S.
_June 22, 1897._
["From my heart I thank my beloved people. May God bless them!"]
Not unto me, O Lord, not unto me
The praise be given, that my beloved land
This day in all men's eyes from strand to strand
Shines first in honour and in majesty;
That borne from every clime, o'er every sea,
Around me clustering close on every hand,
Liegemen from far I see, a noble band,
Type of a nobler Empire yet to be!
Oh, my beloved people, yours the praise,
Yours, who have kept the faith, that made your sires
Free, fearless, faithful, through the nights and days,
True to the zeal for right, that never tires;
May God's best blessing rest on you always,
And keep you blameless in your heart's desires!
THE QUEEN AT KENSINGTON.
_June 28, 1897._
["I gladly renew my association with a place which, as the scene of
my birth and my summons to the Throne, has had, and ever will have
with me, tender and solemn recollections."]
Again the dear old home, the towering trees,
The lawns, the garden-plots, the lake, that were
My childhood's fairyland,--the dear ones there,
Who tended me so lovingly,--the ease
Of heart when, sporting at my mother's knees,
I dreamed not of a crown, nor knew a care,
The call at early morn that crown to wear!
Ah me, the host of tender memories,
Tender and solemn, that around me throng,
Of all that then I was, and since have been,
The many loved and lost, the One so long
Missed from my side, and I, a lonely Queen!
Yet in the love my people bear me, strong
To front an Empire's cares with brow serene.
Yet once again I had the honour of being permitted to express Her
Majesty's sentiments in verse. It had long been my earnest hope that
peace should reign in Her Majesty's realms while she lived. But this was
not to be; and the South African war, with all the loss of life and
waste of treasure which it involved, threw many a dark shadow over the
last year of the Queen's life. But the shadows were not without breaks
of brilliant sunshine. She was proud of the way in which her subjects
rose to the difficulties of the time; she was proud of the response of
the army and navy, which she loved, to the call upon their valour and
endurance. She was proud, too, of the common feeling that bound the
colonies to the mother-country, as but for this war they might not for
years have been bound, and that they had sent their sons to share its
perils and glories--a first step to the consolidation of her Empire.
This was a suggestive theme, to glance at which I thought might please
the Queen. I had for years been in the habit of writing a letter of
congratulation to Her Majesty upon her birthday. Little weening that it
was to be her last, I sent the following sonnet with my letter. It so
pleased the Queen, that she gave her sanction to its being published in
the _Times_, where accordingly it appeared.
A BIRTHDAY MEDITATION.
_Balmoral, 24th May 1900._
Am I not blest? I cry, as I retrace,
Through gathering mists of not unwelcome tears,
All I have seen and known through the long years
Vouchsafed to me by Heaven's abounding grace;
How evermore I have found strength to face
Their cares, their griefs, their overshadowing fears,
Nerved by the loving loyalty that cheers
My heart in all its lonely pride of place.
Oh, my dear land, whose sons, where'er they came,
Of freedom and of right have sown the seed,
Behold, _their_ sons in serried thousands claim
A place beside thee, in thine hour of need,
Thy peril theirs, thy fortune theirs, thy fame!
Thinking of this, am I not blest indeed?
As it happens, I write the concluding pages of this humble tribute to
the memory of my beloved Queen in my study at Bryntysilio, on the
anniversary of the day when the noble woman passed from earth, who was
for more than fifty years the crown and comfort of my life. It is a day
intimately associated with my thoughts of Her Majesty, for late in the
evening of this day, after the constant inquiries of many weeks, a
telegram asking for information came from the Queen only a few hours
before my wife fell asleep. Its words were the last she read. She tried
to reply to the Queen with her own hand, but had to give up the attempt.
To the Queen the first news of my loss was sent, and it was answered by
a message right from the heart in a few of those incisive words, for
which the Queen had a special gift, that speak directly home to the
heart. Nor did her sympathy end here. She so arranged that on the
morning of the funeral in London a letter in her own hand from Balmoral
should reach me with words of encouragement such as those from which she
had herself so often had to seek courage in her own hours of desolation
and bereavement.[30] Nor was this all. Next morning, between eight and
nine, I received a telegram from Her Majesty, inquiring how I had borne
the ordeal of the previous day. Can more be said to show the tender,
thoughtful, womanly nature, which won the gratitude and reverence of
those who knew her best, and which also operated to create a feeling of
affectionate regard in all her subjects, and indeed throughout the
world?
One more instance of Her Majesty's never-failing kindness to myself! The
Christmas morning of 1900 brought me its wonted offering from her in the
shape of a beautifully framed copy of Angeli's last portrait. As I
looked at it my heart was full of sadness, for I read in the familiar
face, as there depicted, the manifest indications of physical weakness,
and of the probably early fulfilment of an apprehension, which had for
some time possessed me, that the end of this "great woman" was near.
What pathos to me in the thought, that in a time of so much weakness and
preoccupation the Queen had taken care that I should not be without the
accustomed Christmas memorial from her. There are memories that "lie too
deep for tears." This is one of them.
Yet a few words more! I have lived too long not to have learned
forbearance in my judgments of character in man or woman, even when its
qualities seem to lie very much upon the surface. I have also learned to
revere the memories of all who have earned honourable distinction by
act or word. Experience has taught me how little we can know of the true
nature even of those with whom life has made us familiar, how infinitely
less of those whom we have never known, or who have followed pursuits in
which we have never shared, or lived in a sphere remote from our own.
Much, therefore, as I saw of the Queen as a woman, much as I had
occasion to know of the remarkable powers of mind which she brought to
bear upon the performance of her functions as a sovereign, I should not
venture to form, much less to publish, an appreciation of these powers,
without those full materials for a judgment which are not at present
before the world, but which may in due season be expected to see the
light. Enough, however, came under my observation to show me how great
the Queen could be, when occasion called for the exercise of her higher
powers. I know how richly endowed she was with the "instincts of the
heart, that teach the head,"--intuitions which prompted her to say the
right word and do the right thing without fail, whenever a grave or
great purpose was to be served. Perched as she was, to use her own words
now lying before me, "on a dreary, sad pinnacle of solitary grandeur," I
know with what constancy and courage she bore the isolation. I know how
simple, how humbly-minded she was, how truthful, how full of
loving-kindness, how generous, how constant in her friendships. I know
how she leant for consolation and support upon the love of her people,
how earnestly she sought to gain it by sympathy with their interests and
their sorrows, by constant watchfulness for the wellbeing of all
throughout the world who owned her sway. I know, too, how resolute she
was to uphold justice, and honour, and right, wherever her voice could
be heard.
Others may find pleasure, when they write of Queen Victoria, in speaking
slightingly of the qualities of mind and heart which went to form a
truly noble character, of which personally they can know nothing. To
such I answer, Who in the history of monarchies has lived a life so
exemplary, so pure, so absolutely devoted to the service of the
State,--who of all we read of so won the affection of their people, the
admiration of the world, as she has done? I think of the mighty task she
was called upon to fulfil, and how admirably she fulfilled it, under
trials and drawbacks of which the outside world can form no estimate. I
think of her, borne to her tomb along the London streets, through
threefold ranks of her people, all pale, silent, and with heads
reverently bowed, as though in mourning for one they loved. I see her
bier borne to the altar in St George's Chapel, followed by men who
represented all the Rulers of all the Nations--a gorgeous throng that
crowded the central aisle of the great chapel from the western door up
to the altar steps. Was ever such tribute paid in the world throughout
all the ages past? Is such tribute ever likely to be paid again?
It is of this marvellous tribute, and how it was won, that we should
think,--not of this or that foible or shortcoming, for who is without
them? Above all, we should think of the heavy, unceasing burden that
lay upon brain and heart through a long life, and with how brave and
constant yet how meek a spirit it was borne. Then, remembering all this,
let us, while we live, cherish in our hearts the name of our departed
Queen, and pass it on to those who shall succeed us, as
Victoria the Great and Good.
PRINTED BY WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] He died in May 1874. "Dear M. V. de Weyer's death," Her Majesty
wrote to me on the 30th of that month, "is a terrible loss to the Queen,
and she has been deeply grieved by it."
[2] A translation of Oehlenschlaeger's drama of that name.
[3] General Grey's book.
[4] A ruby and diamond bracelet.
[5] I must have expressed in some letter at this time regret that none
of Her Majesty's Ministers had taken the opportunity of explaining the
circumstances which had hurt Her Majesty's health, and compelled her to
avoid the fatigues of the public appearances which were called for, and
which were undoubtedly desirable, if the Queen's health had admitted of
their being made.
[6] They came with the following note:--
"OSBORNE, _May 3, 1869_.
"The Queen sends Mr Martin to-day a volume of the beloved Prince's and
her own etchings, which she has had purposely bound for him, and which
she hopes he will place in his library, as a trifling recollection of
his kindness in carrying out so many of her wishes."
[7] _Quarterly Review_ for April 1901: article "Queen Victoria," p. 305.
[8] It is of such that Sir Henry Taylor writes in his _Philip van
Artevelde_, Act I. Sc. v.:--
"He was one
Of that small tally, of the singular few,
Who, gifted with predominating powers,
Bear yet a temperate will, and keep the peace.
The world knows nothing of its greatest men."
[9] _Denkwuerdigkeiten aus den Papieren des Freiherr's Christian
Friedrich v. Stockmar._ Braunschweig, 1872.
[10] _Quarterly Review_ for April 1872, p. 386 _et seq._
[11] "Thy dear image I bear within me, and what miniature can come up to
that? No need to place one on my table to _remind_ me of _you_."
[12] Life of Archbishop Benson, vol. ii. pp. 2 and 561.
[13] The allusion is to the lines in the fine passage in the seventh
section of that poem, beginning, "Blame not thyself too much":--
"Let woman make herself her own
To give or keep, to live and learn, and be
All that not harms distinctive womanhood.
For woman is not undevelopt man,
But diverse; could we make her as the man,
Sweet love were slain; his dearest bond is this,
Not like to like, but like in difference."
[14] I had occasion to record in the Prince's _Life_ (vol. iii. p. 248)
a somewhat similar impression on Napoleon III. and his Empress with
regard to the Tuileries, in the following extract from the Queen's
Diary: "Speaking of the want of liberty attaching to our position, he
(the Emperor) said the Empress felt this greatly, and called the
Tuileries _une belle prison_."
[15] Published, London, 1868, by Smith, Elder, & Co.
[16] General Grey's duties were immediately taken up by Colonel,
afterwards General, Sir Henry Ponsonby, who discharged them with
conspicuous zeal and ability till he was struck down by fatal illness in
January 1895.
[17] These letters were from Royal personages on the subject of the
Emperor's death.
[18] See p. 51, _ante_.
[19] Feodore Victoire, Duchess of Saxe-Meiningen, who died on the 12th
of February 1872. Her mother, the Queen's half-sister, Feodora, Princess
of Hohenlohe-Langenburg, survived her only a few months, dying on the
23rd of September 1872.
[20] He died on the 23rd of May 1874. The Queen came from Windsor to
visit him at his house in London, when he was near his end. A few days
before his death I took my leave of him. He was in great pain, but his
bright sparkling spirit remained. He touched my heart by saying how
sorry he was he had only known me within the last few years. On my
expressing a hope that we might meet again in the Hereafter, "Ah! let us
hope so!" he replied, adding, like the bibliophile of bibliophiles that
he was, "and that you will find me in an _editio nova et emendatior_."
[21] In my library in London there happened to be a niche, as if made to
receive this beautiful replica of the Mausoleum monument, where it has
ever since remained.
[22] I had given to the Queen a fine proof before letters of her
portrait, as a girl, by Fowler, and she wrote to say that "the bust by
Behnes, from which Fowler took his picture, was done in 1827, when the
Queen was eight years and a half."
[23] The Sovereign _nominally_ is the dispenser of these pensions, but
the Queen delegated this function to the First Lord of the Treasury.
This was why the concurrence of Lord Beaconsfield was necessary. With
him the Queen's wish in such matters was paramount.
[24] A volume published in Germany in imperial folio, with a series of
very spirited illustrations, and remarkable for the beauty and
originality of the binding.
[25] A magnificent volume, including, among other illustrations,
photographs of all Baron Triqueti's designs in inlaid marble.
[26] The pet name substituted for Friedrich.
[27] This refers to an obituary notice of the Prince by myself.
[28] As to this visit, see _ante_, p. 114.
[29] It seems a pity that this word should have fallen into disuse.
Shakespeare employs it with great effect in the fine scene (_Cymbeline_,
Act III. sc. iv.) where Imogen says--
"I grieve myself to think,
When thou shalt be disedged by her
That now thou tirest on, how thy memory
Wilt then be _panged_ by me."
[30] A representative of Her Majesty attended Lady Martin's funeral and
placed on her bier a beautiful wreath, inscribed by the Queen, and also
a rich floral cross, inscribed by the Princess Beatrice.
TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES:
Text in italics is surrounded with underscores: _italics_.
Obvious typographical errors have been corrected as follows:
Footnote 9: Braunscheig changed to Braunschweig
The original text appears to be missing words on page 54. The
original is printed "... it was impossible to be than were the able
and accomplished officials...".