“Broad based upon her people’s will,
And compassed by the inviolate sea.”
TENNYSON, _To the Queen_.
FIFTY years a queen! and still seated upon her ancestral throne. This
is the remarkable record of England’s present sovereign. This fact
alone would make the reign of Queen Victoria illustrious. But more than
this, she has reigned during one half of this marvellous nineteenth
century—a period phenomenal among the centuries of history.
Although the Victorian Era has not produced a Shakespeare, a Homer, a
Dante, or a Milton, it will be remembered as an epoch of astounding
progress, not only in England and Europe, but throughout the civilized
world.
The unprecedented onrush of the mighty waves of enlightened
civilization, bearing to all lands the blessings of Christian liberty;
the flashing and dazzling lights of wonderful inventions and results
of scientific researches, which have belted the world with gleaming
bands of iron, chained the lightning at man’s bidding, caught and
imprisoned the waves of sound, unlocked the secrets of the earth, and
almost annihilated space and time,—these are some of the marvellous
achievements of the nineteenth century which make the history of
the past one hundred years read like the story of the most amazing
transformations ever invented by the imagination in Oriental fairy
tales or attributed to the weird magicians of the Arabian Nights.
Telegraphs, railroads, telephones, electric lights, phonographs,
photography, the discovery of petroleum, the improved use of steam,
the invention of Bessemer steel, and the practical use of gaslight for
the illumination of cities, are all numbered among the inventions and
discoveries of the nineteenth century.
But more wonderful still, perhaps, is the rise of the mighty Republic
of the United States, which, though beginning in the eighteenth century
as an independent power, has, in the short space of a little more than
one hundred years, taken the foremost place in the rank of nations, and
stands to-day _the miracle of the nineteenth century_.
To have reigned for fifty years, the sovereign of one of the greatest
powers of the world, during such a time of human progress and religious
liberty, will make the Victorian Age shine forth in the pages of
history as one of the most resplendent epochs in the annals of the
world.
Alexandrina Victoria, called by her German relations “the little
Mayflower,” was born on the 24th of May, 1819. She was the
granddaughter of George III. of England; her father being Edward, Duke
of Kent, fourth son of that monarch.
Her mother was Victoria, the sister of the Duke of Saxe-Coburg, and
widow of the Prince of Leiningen. The baby Princess Victoria was left
fatherless at the age of eight months, and an establishment was formed
for the future queen at Kensington Palace, under the superintendence
of her mother, the Duchess of Kent. The education of Victoria was
carefully watched, although she was not allowed to know that she was
heir to the throne, until she was twelve years old. At this time
it was thought best to make known to the little princess her future
prospects; and her tutor, Dr. Davys, gave her a lesson in tracing
out the genealogy of English royalty. At length the young princess
exclaimed, with some astonishment, “Mamma, I cannot see who is to come
after Uncle William, unless it is myself.”
Upon being told that this was the fact, she said in an unusually
thoughtful manner for one so young:—
“It is a very solemn thing. Many a child would boast, but they don’t
know the difficulty. There is splendor, but there is responsibility;”
then, with an expressive gesture, she earnestly continued, “_I will be
good._” And the verdict of fifty years of sovereignty has been, “Good
mother, queen, and wife.”
At five o’clock, on the morning of the 21st of June, 1837, the Princess
Victoria, then a young girl of eighteen, was awakened from her slumbers
and saluted as queen. Hastily throwing over her night-robes a loose
wrapper, and with slippers on her bare feet, and hair in unregarded
disorder, she was ushered into an apartment where stood the Archbishop
of Canterbury and Lord Conyngham, who had just arrived at Kensington,
and demanded to see the “Queen” immediately. State business will not
wait for ladies’ toilets, and the _déshabillé_ of the young princess
was rather impressive than unbecoming, as the grave elderly men bent
the knee before her and addressed her as “Your Majesty.” The king was
dead, and Victoria was queen. Even as the royal salutation fell upon
her youthful ears, the fair young girl seemed in a moment to don a new
garment of dignity and self-possession. She had been always retiring,
and obedient to others, to a marked degree, but as the words “Your
Majesty” were addressed to her for the first time, she instantly
put out her hand to receive the customary kiss of allegiance, and
even attired as she was, looked a very sovereign. From that moment
Victoria assumed all the dignity and prerogatives of a queen. She had
been the most docile of daughters; but as queen, the Duchess of Kent,
her mother, received only her filial affection, and was allowed no
privilege of dictating the affairs of state, or even advising her royal
daughter regarding her actions or duties as sovereign.
The young queen took as her residence Buckingham Palace, making Windsor
Castle her country home. Mr. Charles Greville says of her at this time:
“The queen’s manner and bearing are perfect. It is the remarkable
union of _naïveté_, kindness, nature,—good nature, with propriety and
dignity, which make her so admirable and so endearing to those about
her, as she certainly is. I have been repeatedly told that they are all
warmly attached to her, but albeit all feel the impossibility of for a
moment losing sight of the respect which they owe her. She never ceases
to be a queen, and is always the most charming, cheerful and obliging,
unaffected queen in the world.”
On the 28th of June, 1838, occurred the coronation of Queen Victoria.
The famous musical composer, Felix Mendelssohn, who was then in London,
thus writes concerning the imposing pageant: “At a quarter-past twelve
the procession began to arrive at Westminster Abbey, and by an hour
later the whole had been absorbed in the cathedral. Nothing more
brilliant could be seen than all the beautiful horses, with their rich
harness, the carriages and grooms covered with gold embroideries, and
the splendidly dressed people inside. All this, too, was encircled by
the venerable gray buildings, and the crowds of common people under
the dull sky, which was only now and then pierced by sunbeams; at
first, indeed, it rained. But when the golden, fairy-like carriage,
supported by Tritons with their tridents and surmounted by the great
crown of England, drove up, and the graceful girl was seen bowing
right and left—when at that instant the mass of people was completely
hidden by their waving handkerchiefs and raised hats, while one roar
of cheering almost drowned the pealing of the bells, the blare of the
trumpets, and thundering of the guns, one had to pinch one’s self to
make sure it was not all a dream out of the Arabian Nights. Then fell
a sudden silence, the silence of a church, after the queen had entered
the cathedral. I mixed among the crowd, walked up to the door of the
abbey, and peered into the solemn obscurity; but my involuntary emotion
was dispelled by a sense of the ludicrous as I looked closely at their
dressed-up, modern _cinque-centi halberdiers_ (the beef-eaters), whose
cheeks suggest beef, and whose noses tell tales of whiskey and claret.”
Victoria wore a royal robe of crimson velvet, furred with ermine and
bordered with gold. A small circlet of gold banded her head, and the
collar of the Order of the Garter adorned her neck. Three swords were
borne before her, emblems of justice, defence, and mercy. Her train
was carried by eight young maidens of high rank, dressed in cloth of
silver, with roses in their hair. After the queen entered the cathedral
and advanced to the foot of the throne, she knelt there for a moment in
devotion. As she rose, the Archbishop of Canterbury turned her round to
each of the four corners of the abbey, saying to the assembled people:
“Sirs, I here present unto you the undoubted queen of this realm. Will
ye all swear to do her homage?” Each time he asked the question the air
rang with shouts of “Long live Queen Victoria!”
The anointing followed, whereupon the archbishop gave her his
benediction. The primate then placed her on the throne, or rather
in St. Edward’s chair, used by the sovereigns in this ceremony
since Edward the Confessor. The young queen then received the ring,
betrothing her to her people, and the orb of empire—a small globe
surmounted by a cross—was placed in her hand, and the sceptre of
rule was given to her. The crown of England was then laid upon her
head by the archbishop, and at the same moment peers and peeresses
donned their coronets; bishops, their mitres; heralds, their caps; the
trumpets sounded, the drums beat, the cannon boomed, and the Tower guns
answered, and the shouts of the people broke forth in loud and joyous
acclamations. The archbishop then presented the Bible to her Majesty,
and bent in homage. He was followed by bishops and lords, according to
their rank, who each in turn, lifting their coronets, touched the crown
on the queen’s head, and repeated the oath of allegiance.
The Communion Service followed; and the queen, in homage to the _King_
of kings, removed her crown while she received the sacrament. Then,
resuming her royal diadem, with the sceptre in one hand, and the orb
of empire in the other, the crowned queen of England left the abbey,
followed by her imposing retinue.
Mr. Charles Greville gives us this little bit of human nature enacted
between these pompous scenes of solemn ceremony:—
“Lord John Thynne, who officiated for the Dean of Westminster, told
me that nobody knew what was to be done, except the archbishop and
himself (who had rehearsed), Lord Willoughby (who is experienced in
these matters), and the Duke of Wellington; and consequently there
was a continual difficulty and embarrassment, and the queen never knew
what she was to do next. They made her leave her chair and enter into
St. Edward’s chapel before the prayers were concluded, much to the
discomfiture of the archbishop. She said to John Thynne, ‘Pray tell me
what I am to do, for they don’t know.’ And at the end, when the orb was
put in her hand, she said, ‘What am I to do with it?’ ‘Your Majesty
is to carry it, if you please, in your hand.’ ‘Am I?’ she said; ‘it
is very heavy.’ The ruby ring was made for her little finger instead
of the fourth, on which the Rubric prescribes that it should be put.
When the archbishop was to put it on, she extended the former, but he
said it must be put on the latter. She said it was too small, and she
could not get it on. He said it was right to put it there, and as he
insisted, she yielded, but had first to take off her other rings, and
then this was forced on; but it hurt her very much, and as soon as the
ceremony was over she was obliged to bathe her finger in iced water in
order to get it off.”
Most royal marriages have little to do with love and sentiment, but
that of Queen Victoria was a delightful exception.
It is a pretty scene, and one full of fascinating charm, which presents
the young queen making her offer of marriage to the handsome young
Prince Albert, son of the Duke of Saxe-Coburg-Saalfeld.
As she was a sovereign, the prince could not with propriety make the
offer to her, and so the blushing girl, now the _woman_ rather than the
_queen_, in the presence of the youth who had already gained her love,
forgot the sovereign, as she timidly took this momentous step.
Their married life was beautiful and happy, and within the sacred
circle of such a love-life none have right to enter, even though royal
lives are considered public property. No shadow seems to have come
between their perfect confidence; and the sweetest tribute to the
character of Queen Victoria fell from the lips of her dying husband,
when twenty years after, she bent over his death-bed, and he lifted his
trembling hand and stroked her cheek, murmuring, “_Liebes Frauchen_”
(dear little wife), “_Gutes Weibchen_” (good little wife), and resting
his aching head upon her shoulder, saying, “It is very comfortable so,
dear child,” and having kissed her, fell asleep in her arms, to waken
no more on this side the river of death.
We can only enumerate the most important political events of Queen
Victoria’s reign, without detailed description. The Victorian Era will
only rightly take its place in the annals of history when the entire
epoch shall have become the past. While the present is weaving the
history for the future upon the loom of time, it is impossible clearly
to discern the intricacies of the pattern, or rightly to estimate the
importance of the various-colored threads which are being employed
to work out the finished design. Only when the epoch has become past
history, can we truly measure its importance in the annals of the world.
Although during the past fifty years there has been no change in the
sovereign of England, there have been vast and momentous changes in the
parties which control the government of that nation. Prominent men in
the ministry have arisen and declined, and the position of the _English
people_ to-day, as regards their influence in political affairs, is
much changed from the comparatively insignificant part they played in
past epochs. No longer does a despotic Elizabeth hold the lives of
her people subject to the caprices of her individual will; and more
and more clearly is the voice of that people, not only _heard_, but
_heeded_, even in the House of Lords.
At the time of Victoria’s coronation, a Whig ministry was in power, led
by Viscount Melbourne.
Queen Victoria was much attached to her first premier, Lord Melbourne.
But soon changes took place in the ministry. The Conservatives, led
by Sir Robert Peel, came into power. Sir Robert Peel, remembering the
pernicious influence of _women-intriguers_ in the time of Queen Anne,
insisted that the ladies of Victoria’s household should be changed with
the change of the ministry. But Victoria was a very different woman and
sovereign from the weak-minded Anne. With indignation, she wrote:—
“They wanted to deprive me of my ladies, and I suppose they would
deprive me next of my dressers and my housemaids; but I will show
them that I am queen of England.” And show them she did, and the
Conservatives were obliged to yield and retire, and Lord Melbourne was
recalled to office.
But in 1841, the Whigs were again succeeded by the Conservatives; and
Sir Robert Peel became prime minister. He was succeeded in 1846 by Lord
John Russell, who was placed in power by the combined efforts of the
Protectionists and Whigs.
The Revolution in France, which resulted in the overthrow of Louis
Philippe and the ascension to the French throne of Prince Louis
Napoleon, as Napoleon III., occasioned outbursts of the people in
various parts of Europe. There were wild threats of an insurrection in
London, but the scare passed over, and the preservation of order was
secured without bloodshed.
The renowned Duke of Wellington was the chief military authority in
England, and the leader in the House of Lords up to the time of his
death, in 1852, in his eighty-fourth year. The queen greatly mourned
his loss. She had given him the distinguished honor of standing
godfather to one of her own children, Prince Arthur, and when she heard
the news of his death she wrote:—
“What a loss! One cannot think of this country without the duke, our
immortal hero. In him centred almost every earthly honor a subject
could possess. Above party, looked up to by all, revered by the whole
nation, the friend of the sovereign.”
In this same year the Conservatives again came into power, with the
Earl of Derby as premier. We cannot give the various changes in the
English ministry during Victoria’s reign. Suffice it to say, the
Derby ministry retired in 1858, and were succeeded by the Palmerston
ministry. Again, Lord Palmerston was obliged by circumstances to
resign, and Lord Derby again came into office. But he was soon deposed,
and Lord Palmerston returned to office as prime minister. On the death
of Viscount Palmerston in 1865, Lord John Russell again became premier,
but was soon defeated by the Conservatives, who came into power with
the Earl of Derby, and Mr. Benjamin Disraeli. Lord Derby afterwards
resigned, and Disraeli became prime minister, and subsequently received
the title of Lord Beaconsfield. In 1880 Lord Beaconsfield’s party was
defeated, and a Liberal ministry came in with Mr. Gladstone. Later
changes it is not necessary to note here.
The English wars during the last fifty years have been wars in
Afghanistan, the quelling of various revolts in India, England’s
alliance with France in the Crimean War, the Abyssinian War in 1867,
and the recent war with Egypt, which resulted in the loss of several
Englishmen of note, especially the renowned and brave Chinese Gordon,
whose imprisonment and inhuman murder by the savage followers of Mahdi,
at Khartoum, called forth loud denunciations against the military
measures of the English government.
The Franco-German War in 1870, resulting in the downfall of Napoleon
III., although not entered into by England, was watched with intense
anxiety by Queen Victoria. Two of her daughters, the Princesses
Victoria and Alice, were obliged to see their husbands depart for
the seat of war, and the beloved Princess Alice devoted herself with
untiring energy to the care of the sick and wounded soldiers. For the
second time Queen Victoria welcomed the fallen French monarchs to her
realm. She had received the family of Louis Philippe with kindness; and
the Empress Eugénie, together with the dethroned emperor and the young
Prince Imperial, were equally the recipients of her pity and sympathy.
Strange vicissitudes of fortune! During the Crimean War, the emperor
and empress of the French had visited Queen Victoria, their royal ally.
“How strange,” says the queen’s journal, “that I, the granddaughter of
George III., should dance with Emperor Napoleon, nephew of England’s
greatest enemy, now my most intimate and nearest ally, only six years
ago, living in this country an exile, poor and unthought of!”
This visit was afterwards returned by Queen Victoria and the Prince
Consort, when they were received by Napoleon III. with great
magnificence in Paris, and attended there the _Grande Exposition;_ as
the French were the first to follow the example of the English in the
great World’s Exhibition, which had been originally conceived of by
Prince Albert, when he devised the famous Crystal Palace.
This great International Exhibition, inaugurated and carried out by
Prince Albert, this first Crystal Palace of the world, of which the
Paris Exposition, and others of the kind, have been copies, some on
a larger scale, but none of equal beauty, is best described in Queen
Victoria’s own words:—
“The glimpse of the transept through the iron gates, the waving
palms, flowers, statues, myriads of people filling the galleries and
seats around, with the flourish of trumpets as we entered, gave us
a sensation I can never forget, and I felt much moved. We went for
a moment to a little side-room, where we left our shawls, and where
we found mamma and Mary, and outside which were standing the other
princes. In a few seconds we proceeded, Albert leading me, having
Vicky at his hand and Bertie holding mine. The sight, as we came to
the middle, where the steps and chair (which I did _not_ sit on) were
placed, with the beautiful crystal fountain just in front of it, was
magical—so vast, so glorious, so touching. One felt, as so many did
whom I have since spoken to, filled with devotion, more so than by any
service I have ever heard,—the tremendous cheers; the joy expressed
in every face; the immensity of the building; the mixture of palms,
flowers, trees, statues, fountains; the organ (with two hundred
instruments, and six hundred voices, which sounded like nothing); and
my beloved husband, the author of this Peace Festival, which united
the industry of all nations of the earth. All this was moving indeed,
and it was and is a day to live forever. God bless my dearest Albert!
God bless my dearest country, which has shown itself so great to-day!
One felt grateful to the great God, who seemed to pervade all and to
bless all! The only event it in the slightest degree reminded me of was
the Coronation, but this day’s festival was a thousand times superior.
In fact, it is unique, and can bear no comparison, from its peculiar
beauty and combination of such striking and different objects. I mean
the slight resemblance only as to its solemnity; the enthusiasm and
cheering, too, were much more touching, for in a church naturally all
is silent.... That we felt happy, thankful, I need not say; proud
of all that had passed, of my darling husband’s success, and of the
behavior of my good people.”
Thus did the queen gracefully acknowledge her indebtedness to the
devoted husband, who, refusing all titles but that of Prince Consort,
spent his life in ministering to her greatness, and consecrated his
superior talents of mind in unostentatiously smoothing the difficulties
in her royal path. Prince Albert would, without doubt, have made one
of the best and most beneficent rulers that England ever had, if he
had been the sovereign; it was to his wise head and clear judgment
that Victoria was indebted for many of the popular measures of her
government during his life; and his loss was indeed irreparable. And
her constant devotion to his memory is a more noble tribute to him than
the magnificent memorial erected by her in his honor, even though the
inscription reads:—
To The Beloved Memory
OF
ALBERT, THE GREAT AND GOOD PRINCE CONSORT.
Raised by his Broken-Hearted Widow
VICTORIA R.
Charlotte M. Yonge, in her recent “Jubilee Book,” “The Victorian
Half-Century,” gives the following incident:—
“We have a charming picture of domestic life in the letters of the
great musical composer Mendelssohn, who was in England in the summer
of 1842. ‘Prince Albert had asked me to go to him on Saturday, at two
o’clock, that I might try his organ before I left England. I found him
alone, and as we were talking away, the queen came in, also alone, in a
simple morning dress. She said she was obliged to leave for Claremont
in an hour, and then suddenly interrupting herself, exclaimed, “But,
goodness! what a confusion!” For the wind had littered the whole room,
and even the pedals of the organ (which, by the way, made a very pretty
feature of the room), with leaves of music from a large portfolio that
lay open. As she spoke she knelt down and began picking up the music;
Prince Albert helped, and I, too, was not idle. Then Prince Albert
proceeded to explain the stops to me, and she said that she would
meanwhile put things straight. I begged that the prince would first
play me something, that I might boast about it in Germany, and he
played a chorale, by heart, with the pedals, so charmingly and clearly
and correctly that it would have done credit to any professional; and
the queen, having finished her work, came and sat by him and listened,
and looked pleased. Then it was my turn, and I began my chorus from
“St. Paul,” “How lovely are the messengers.” Before I got to the end
of the first verse they had both joined in the chorus, and all the
time Prince Albert managed the stops so cleverly for me,... and all
by heart, that I was really quite enchanted. Then the young Prince of
Gotha came in, and there was more chatting, and the queen asked if I
had written any new songs, and said she was very fond of singing my
published ones. “You should sing one to him,” said Prince Albert, and
after a little begging, she said she would try the “_Frühlingslied_”
in B flat, “if it is still here,” she added, “for all my music is
packed for Claremont.” Prince Albert went to look for it, but came
back, saying it was already packed. “But one might, perhaps, unpack
it,” said I. “We must send for Lady ——,” she said (I did not catch the
name). So the bell was rung, and the servants were sent after it; but
without success, and at last the queen went herself, and whilst she was
gone, Prince Albert said to me, “She begs you will accept this present
as a remembrance,” and gave me a case with a beautiful ring, on which
is engraved “V. R., 1842.” Then the queen came back, and said, “Lady
—— is gone, and has taken all my things with her. It is really most
annoying.”’
“However, Mendelssohn begged that he might not be the sufferer, and
after some consultation, Prince Albert said, ‘She will sing you
something of Gluck’s.’ Then they proceeded to the queen’s sitting-room,
where there stood by the piano a mighty rocking-horse and two great
bird-cages. The walls were decorated with pictures; beautifully bound
books lay on the tables, and music on the piano. Mendelssohn found
among the music a set of songs of his own, and, first sending away
the parrot, ‘for he will scream louder than I can sing,’ the queen
sang ‘_Schöner und Schöner schmückt sie_’ quite charmingly, in strict
time and tune, but with one slight error. Mendelssohn confessed that
the song was not his, but his sister Fanny’s, and she then, with
some doubt, undertook to try to sing his ‘_Pilger Spruch, Lass dich
nur_,’ which she did quite faultlessly, and with charming feeling and
expression.
“Mendelssohn says: ‘I thought to myself, one must not pay too many
compliments on such an occasion, so I merely thanked her a great many
times; on which she said, “Oh! if only I had not been so frightened;
generally I have such a long breath.” Then I praised her heartily
and with the best conscience in the world, for just that part, with
the long C at the close, she had done so well, and taking the three
notes next to it all in the same breath, as one seldom hears it done,
and therefore it amused me doubly that she herself should have begun
about it.’ Afterwards the prince sang ‘_Es ist ein Schnitter_,’ and
Mendelssohn improvised till it was time for her Majesty to start for
Claremont.”
Madame de Bunsen, the English wife of the Prussian ambassador, thus
described Queen Victoria:—
“She is the only piece of female royalty I ever saw who was also a
creature such as God Almighty has created. Her smile is a real smile,
her grace is natural; although it has received a high polish from
cultivation, there is nothing artificial about her.”
Her present appearance is thus given: “Queen Victoria possesses a
short, stout figure; a face with the long upper lip, and cold, blue
eyes of the Georges; straight bandeaus of gray hair; a rather flushed
complexion; a most graceful walk; and a sort of sweet, venerable,
natural dignity and power about her.”
On the first of January, 1876, Queen Victoria was proclaimed Empress of
India.
The first wedding among her children was the marriage of her eldest
daughter, the Princess Victoria, to Frederick William, now the Crown
Prince of Germany. The queen herself thus writes in her diary: “Went
to look at the rooms prepared for Vicky’s honeymoon. Very pretty! It
quite agitated me to look at them.” And again, regarding the ceremony,
she writes: “My last fear of being overcome vanished on seeing Vicky’s
quiet, calm, and composed manner. It was beautiful to see her kneeling
with Fritz, their hands joined, and the train borne by the eight young
ladies, who looked like a cloud of maidens hovering round her.”
So royal mothers are akin to other mothers when they witness the
wedding ceremonies of their children. The Princess Alice was the next
to marry; but as her marriage occurred soon after her father’s death,
the wedding was very quiet. This lovely princess was the favorite of
the family. She seemed to inherit a large portion of her lamented
father’s tastes and traits; and as the wife of Prince Louis of Hesse,
won all hearts. Her sad death, from malignant diphtheria, which dread
disease had just snatched away a darling little daughter, is remembered
by all. Since her death, the queen has lost another child, her youngest
son, Leopold, Duke of Albany.
The heir to the throne, the Prince of Wales, married the beautiful and
charming Princess Alexandra of Denmark. Many have seen her fascinating
face, and English people love to greet her and receive her gracious
smiles. Of the sweet Princess of Wales, all speak in lavish terms of
praise. The other children of Queen Victoria are: the Princess Helena,
married to Prince Christian of Schleswig-Holstein; Princess Louise, now
Marquise of Lorne; Princess Beatrice, lately married to Prince Henry of
Battenberg; Prince Alfred, Duke of Edinburgh, married to the daughter
of the Czar Alexander II. of Russia, she being sister to the present
czar; and Prince Arthur, Duke of Connaught, who married the Princess
Marguerite of Prussia, daughter of Prince Frederick Charles of Prussia,
called the Red Prince.
[Illustration: ALEXANDRA, QUEEN OF ENGLAND.]
The 21st of June, 1887, was the fiftieth anniversary of Queen
Victoria’s ascension to the throne of England. The occasion was
celebrated by an imposing Jubilee. But this gorgeous celebration was
surpassed ten years later by her Diamond Jubilee, when the whole nation
seemed given up to rejoicing and pageantry.
Only one event was more impressive than that great occasion; it was
the funeral of the good Queen, on February 3, 1901. She passed away
on January 22, after a reign of sixty-three years, the longest of any
English sovereign. At her own request, the funeral was a military one.
The royal catafalque was placed on board the _Alberta_, which passed
between long lines of warships whose flags were half-masted, and whose
crews lined the decks with their arms at “attention.” Upon land, the
coffin was placed on a khaki-colored gun carriage, and was followed
through the streets of London by a solemn procession headed by the
Queen’s son, the new monarch, Edward VII, and her grandson, Emperor
William of Germany. Minute guns and the tolling of bells announced the
progress of the funeral train.
Within the grounds of Frogmore House, adjoining Windsor Castle, the
Queen had erected a mausoleum for the Prince Consort; and there by his
side she was laid to rest. The epitaph written by the Queen herself
reads:—
“Victoria—Albert.
Here at last I shall
Rest with thee:
With thee in Christ
Shall rise again.”
* * * * *
Transcriber’s Notes:
Obvious punctuation errors repaired. Some letters did not print in the
original and have been added such as “wh ch” that became “which” and
“pr tend” that became “pretend.”
“Champs Elysées” made consistantly “Champs Élysées” where it was
spelled half with the first accent and half without. All instances of
“chateau” were changed to “château” for consistency.