CHAPTER VII.

Serious Illness of the Prince

Following his return from foreign travel and the fulfilment of a brief

round of public functions and duties came the now historic and really

eventful illness of the Prince of Wales. It was a critical period in his

career. Boyhood, youth and the first flush of manhood were gone; his

marriage had taken place and his family been born into a position of

present and future importance; his own training in public duties and

experience in foreign travel and observation had been completed up to a

very high point of efficiency. The one element which seemed to be a

little lacking was that of a full appreciation of his own responsibility

to the nation and the Empire. The brilliant light which blazed around

the Throne could find no fault in the actual performance of any duty;

but the critical eye and caustic pen had been prone for some years to

allege an overfondness for pleasure and amusement and the pursuits of

social life.

Whether true or false in its not very serious origin this impression had

been studiously cultivated in certain quarters at home which had an

interest in the theoretical flash-lights of republicanism; and

extensively propagated abroad by cabled falsehoods and magnified

incidents until actual harm had been done to the reputation and

character of the young Prince amongst those who did not know him and

could never actually expect to know him except through the journalistic

food upon which they were fed.

On the other hand, the English people had hardly learned to appreciate

the important place filled by the Prince of Wales in the community, in

the daily life of the nation, in the hopes of his future subjects, and

deep down in the hearts of the masses. Something was apparently needed

to develop those two lines of feeling--one personal and the other

national--and this came in the illness which struck down the Prince in

the closing months of 1871. During the Autumn he had paid a visit to

Lord Londesborough at Scarborough, and, although not feeling well,

nothing was supposed to be seriously wrong. From there the Prince had

gone to stay with Lord Carington at Gayhurst and thence returned to

Sandringham where he became decidedly ill. The _Times_ of November 22nd

was compelled to state that His Royal Highness was suffering from "a

chill resulting in a febrile attack" which had confined him to his room.

On the following day a bulletin signed by Doctors Jenner, Clayton, Gull

and Lowe stated that the Prince was suffering from typhoid.

ORIGIN OF THE ILLNESS

Amid the anxiety caused by this announcement every one wondered where

the disease had been contracted, and ere long it was known that all the

guests of Lord Londesborough at the time of the Royal visit had become

more or less indisposed; that the hostess herself was seriously ill;

that the Earl of Chesterfield, one of the recent guests, was down with

typhoid and, finally that Blegg, the Prince's groom, had caught the same

disease. Ultimately both peer and peasant died, and the seriousness of

their illness as it developed in the public eye added to the gradually

growing excitement over the condition of the Heir-Apparent.

The growth of popular feeling in the matter was evidently deep and

serious. Bulletins stating that the symptoms of the fever were severe

but regular continued for a time amid ever-increasing manifestations of

interest and, as the weeks passed slowly by and the Queen had gone to

the bedside of her son and something of the devotion of his wife to the

sick Prince became known, this feeling grew in volume. Meanwhile the

Princess Alice had also come to lend her brother the sympathetic touch

and knowledge of nursing for which she was so well known. For a brief

moment on December 1st, the patient roused from his delirium

sufficiently to remark that it was the birthday of the Princess, and for

a week thereafter the news of improvement in his condition was good.

Then came a crisis when the fever had spent itself while the patient had

also become worn out. It was impossible to say whether he could live

another day. The Royal family were summoned to Sandringham on December

9th, and on the following day (Sunday) prayers were offered up in all

the churches of the land and in many other countries, by request of the

Archbishop of Canterbury. In the morning, the Vicar at Sandringham

Church received a note from the Princess of Wales: "My husband being,

thank God, somewhat better, I am coming to church, I must leave, I fear,

before the service is concluded that I may watch by his bedside. Can you

say a few words in prayer in the early part of the service, that I may

join with you in prayer for my husband before I return to him?"

THE CRISIS AND THE RECOVERY

On December 11th the _Times_ stated that "the Prince still lives, and we

may, therefore, still hope." During the following days crowds in every

town surrounded the bulletins and waited in the streets for the latest

newspaper reports; and the Government found it necessary to forward

medical statements to every telegraph office in the United Kingdom as

they were issued. On the 14th of the month a favourable change seemed

apparent, and on the 16th the Prince had a quiet and refreshing sleep.

On the following day the Royal family went to church, where, by special

request, the Royal patient and his dying groom--Blegg--were prayed for

together. The latter died within a few hours, but not before the

Princess had found time to visit him and comfort his relations. Slowly,

but steadily, from that time on the Prince began to make headway towards

recovery, though it was not until Christmas Day that the danger was

thought to be past and his Royal mother could express her feeling to the

nation in a letter which was made public on December 26th: "The Queen is

very anxious to express her deep sense of the touching sympathy of the

whole nation on the occasion of the alarming illness of her dear son,

the Prince of Wales. The universal feeling shown by her people during

these painful, terrible days, and the sympathy evinced by them with

herself and her beloved daughter, the Princess of Wales, as well as the

general joy at the improvement of the Prince of Wales's state, have made

a deep and lasting impression on her heart which can never be effaced."

CELEBRATION OF HIS RECOVERY

The recovery of the Prince took the usual course of the disease and was

protracted in character; but on January 14th the last bulletin was

issued. The Princess of Wales and the Princess Alice had been his nurses

throughout this trying time, and they had never seemed to weary in their

devoted care. Nine days after the issue of the last bulletin Dr. William

Jenner was gazetted a K.C.B. and Dr. William W. Gull a baronet. There

were rumors at this time that the patient had been at one stage actually

_in extremis_, but had been saved by one of those sudden inspirations

which sometimes constitute so important a part of medical practice, and

which consisted in a vigorous and continuous application of old

champagne brandy over the body until returning animation had rewarded

the doctor's efforts. The 14th of December, the anniversary of the

Prince Consort's death and the day upon which the actual turning point

in the disease took place, was commemorated by a brass lectern in the

Parish Church of Sandringham, which bears the following inscription:

To the Glory of God.

A Thank-Offering for His Mercies.

14th December, 1871.

Alexandra.

"When I was in trouble I called upon the Lord, and He heard me."

The good news from Sandringham was received throughout the country with

expressions of the most unbounded popular satisfaction; and the

announcement that an opportunity would be afforded of returning public

thanks to the Almighty for his mercy was universally approved. The day

for the National Thanksgiving was finally settled for February 27th, and

St. Paul's Cathedral as the place; but before that time came Dr.

Stanley--who had now become Dean of Westminster--suggested a private

visit to the Abbey and a personal expression of his feelings by the

Prince. This was done in absolute privacy, with only the Princess and a

few members of the Royal family present. A sermon was preached by the

Dean in which, as he told an intimate friend, he was able for once to

say what he wished to say.

THE NATION UNITED IN A COMMON SYMPATHY

Many of the papers of the country commented upon the event with much the

same freedom as the Dean was able to use on this occasion, and it seemed

to be felt that the unbounded solicitude and affection so evidently and

profoundly shown for the Prince had given a certain right of counsel to

the nation. It was generally admitted that the illness had disclosed to

the people as a whole something like an adequate knowledge of their own

convictions in connection with the monarchy and concerning its

maintenance as a permanent and powerful institution of the realm.

Whatever might be the abstract ideas held by individuals in times when

Mr. Bradlaugh and Sir Charles Dilke were preaching republicanism and Mr.

Chamberlain was suspected of harbouring the same opinions, it had become

apparent that the subjects of the Queen in Great Britain were

practically a unit in their preference for a constitutional monarchy and

in their personal devotion to the Crown and the Royal family. In

addition to the event having awakened the nation to the strength of its

own sentiment in this regard, it was also believed that an important

influence would be found to have been exerted upon the Prince of

Wales--a steadying sense of responsibility resulting from holding such a

place as he did in the hearts of his countrymen.

THE PUBLIC THANKSGIVING OF THE NATION

The _Illustrated London News_ well embodied this thought in the

following comment: "Doubtless what has occurred during the last few

weeks has also a meaning for the Heir Apparent to the Throne. No man of

the slightest sensibility can witness the emotional effusion of a great

nation towards himself without being deeply impressed with the

responsibilities of his position. The Prince comes back to the British

people from the brink of the tomb, and they who most pathetically

lamented his danger hail his return to health with devout thanksgivings

and acclamations of joy. Can there be a more powerful incentive to that

course of future action which will commend him to their approbation and

their love? That he will recognize and respond to it, we cannot allow

ourselves to doubt." One of the interesting incidents of the illness was

the fact that when the announcement was made that His Royal Highness

might only survive a few hours his obituary was, of course, prepared and

put in type in all the leading newspaper offices in the land to an

extent varying from the pages of a metropolitan daily down to the half

dozen columns of the Provincial press. Proofs of the obituaries were, it

is understood, afterwards collected and sent to the Prince, who had

them pasted into an immense scrap-book at Marlborough House.

The Thanksgiving Day celebration commenced on February 27th at 12

o'clock, when Her Majesty the Queen, accompanied by the Prince and

Princess of Wales and the Princess Beatrice and Prince Albert Victor of

Wales, drove through the gates of Buckingham Palace. There were nine

Royal carriages in the procession, containing a number of ladies and

gentlemen of the Court, and the Duke of Edinburgh, Prince Arthur, Prince

Leopold and Prince George of Wales. With the latter was the Marquess of

Aylesbury, Master of the Horse; Mr. Brand, Speaker of the House of

Commons; Lord Hatherley, the Lord Chancellor. H. R. H. the Duke of

Cambridge, Commander-in-Chief, headed the procession as it passed slowly

through Pall Mall, Charing Cross, the Strand, Fleet Street and Ludgate

Hill to St. Paul's Cathedral. The streets were lined with dense masses

of people, while every shop-window, doorstep, portico and available roof

were black with cheering throngs. Decorations there were of every sort

and range--squalid or simple or splendid--but all representing pleasure

and loyalty. Along Fleet Street and the Strand they took the form of an

actual canopy of banners, standards, streamers and strings of flowers.

Venetian masts, flying pennons, countless trophies and miniature

shields, with varied mottoes and many kinds of loyal wishes, were seen

all along the route. A band of school children numbering 30,000 sang the

National Anthem in Green Park, while soldiers lined the roadway from the

Palace to the Cathedral. Hearty and enthusiastic cheers greeted the

Royal party, and the Queen and Princess were described as looking bright

and happy, and the Prince as being pale, but not thin. The Queen wore a

black velvet dress trimmed with white ermine, the Princess of Wales was

in blue silk covered with black lace, and the Prince was in the uniform

of a British General and wearing the orders of the Garter and the Bath.

At Temple Bar the Queen was formally received by the Lord Mayor and

Sheriffs of London, and the city sword handed to Her Majesty and

returned in the usual way. At one o'clock the Royal party arrived at the

Cathedral and passed up a covered way of crimson cloth to the steps,

where they were received by the Bishop of London, the Dean and Chapter

of St. Paul's and the officers of Her Majesty's Household. The vast

interior of the building had been arranged to accommodate 13,000

persons, and was crowded to the doors. Space under the dome was reserved

for the Queen, the Royal family, the House of Lords, the House of

Commons, the Corps Diplomatique and the distinguished foreigners, the

Judges and the dignitaries of the law, the Lords Lieutenant and Sheriffs

of Counties, the representatives of universities and other learned

bodies. The choir was reserved for the Clergy, and the place assigned to

Her Majesty and their Royal Highnesses was slightly raised, made into a

kind of pew and covered with crimson cloth.

The Royal procession as it moved up the aisle included, besides the

members of the Royal family, such well known officials and members of

the Court as Major-General Lord Alfred Paget, Lieutenant-General Sir

John Cowell, Colonel H. F. Ponsonby, Major-General Sir T. M. Biddulph,

General Sir William Knollys, Rear-Admiral Lord Frederick Kerr, the

(late) Lord Methuen, General Lord Strathnairn, the Marquess of

Aylesbury, the Viscount Sydney, the Countess of Gainsborough, the Lady

Churchill, Lady Caroline Barrington, the Hon. Mrs. Grey, the Countess of

Morton and Lord Harris. Most of the great names and great personages of

England were present at this function. There were 200 Peers and

Peeresses; the Archbishops of Canterbury and York and fourteen Bishops;

nearly every member of the House of Commons. Mr. and Mrs. Gladstone

were there as were Mr. Disraeli and Viscountess Beaconsfield. Lord

Northbrook, Mr. W. E. Forster, Mr. Cardwell, Mr. Chichester Fortescue,

Mr. Goschen, and Lord Granville were visible. Throngs of ladies,

brilliant in blue and mauve and crimson satin and gems were present,

and, as the sun suddenly shone through what had been sullen clouds, the

spectacle within those parts of the Cathedral touched by the stream of

light was beautiful indeed. It shone upon the bright blue of many

dresses--the Royal colour of the day--mixed up in a confusion of

effective shadings with the dark blue and burnished gold of the

uniforms, the scarlet and white plumes of the officers, the gorgeous

robes of the Peers, the white lawn of the Bishops.

After walking up the aisle on the arm of the Prince of Wales, with the

Princess on the other side, Her Majesty took her place in the special

pew with the chief members of the Royal family on either side. After a

brief special service of thanksgiving the Archbishop of Canterbury

preached the sermon for the occasion in words of tact and eloquence from

which one quotation may be made: "Just as in one of our own homes when

death threatens, the whole history of the loved object we fear to lose

comes back in the hours of waiting, so England was stirred by a hundred

touching memories when danger threatened the Royal house. And God

doubtless thus touched our hearts to deepen our loyalty and make us

better prize the thousand good things secured in a well-ordered State by

love to the head of the State." At the conclusion of the sermon a

Thanksgiving Hymn was sung and the benediction given. The following was

the concluding verse:

"Bless, Father, him thou gavest

Back to the loyal land,

O Saviour, him Thou savest,

Still cover with Thine Hand:

O Spirit, the Defender,

Be his to guard and guide,

Now in life's midday splendor

On to the eventide."

The Royal party then proceeded in due state to their carriages and the

procession returned through the streets of the city to Buckingham Palace

over the Holborn Viaduct, along Holborn and Oxford street to the Marble

Arch, _via_ Hyde Park to Piccadilly, and thence down Constitution Hill.

Enthusiastic cheering was heard all along the route and decorations were

seen everywhere in the greatest abundance. In the evening London was

brilliant with light. The dome of St. Paul's Cathedral, the Mansion

House, and the two large triumphal arches were particularly bright and

beautiful in their varied colours and illuminations. The Lord Mayor and

Lady Mayoress entertained the Lord Mayor of Dublin and the Provincial

Mayors to a banquet at the Mansion House and, all over the United

Kingdom, celebrations of a popular or religious character, holiday

gatherings, crowded meetings and illuminations, marked the day and the

pleasure of the people. Addresses poured in by hundreds and rejoicings

were not confined to the Island portion of the Empire. An incident of

this celebration was the collection of a Thanksgiving Fund for the

completion of St. Paul's Cathedral. To it the Queen gave L1000 and the

Prince of Wales L500. Another feature of the event was the splendid

behaviour of the millions of people who lined the seven-mile route of

the procession and paid loyal tribute to their Queen and to the son who

was heir to all the traditions of his race and the greatness of the

Royal name. On February 29th Her Majesty wrote to Mr. Gladstone a

message intended for the nation:

"The Queen is anxious, as on a previous occasion, to express

publicly her own personal very deep sense of the reception she and

her dear children met with on Tuesday, February the 27th, from

millions of her subjects on her way to and from St. Paul's. Words

are too weak for the Queen to say how very deeply touched and

gratified she has been by the immense enthusiasm and affection

exhibited towards her dear son and herself, from the highest down

to the lowest, on the long progress through the Capital, and she

would earnestly wish to convey her warmest and most heartfelt

thanks to the whole nation for this great demonstration of loyalty.

The Queen, as well as her son and dear daughter-in-law, felt that

the whole nation joined with them in thanking God for sparing the

beloved Prince of Wales's life."

Perhaps the most beautiful and effective presentations of popular

feeling and hopes in connection with this now historic sickness of the

Heir Apparent were the sermons preached by Dean Stanley. No one has ever

been closer in friendship and in personal knowledge to the Prince of

Wales than had this eloquent and saintly ecclesiastic. No one has been

more admired and respected in the Church of England in modern days than

he; nor has any of its clergy possessed a wider view or more generous

heart. Speaking in Westminster Abbey on December 10th, 1871, when the

nation was awaiting in deep anxiety the issue of a struggle which seemed

to be almost fatally and surely decided, he embodied the popular feeling

in beautiful and appropriate words: "On a day like this when there is

one topic in every household, one question on every lip, it is

impossible to stand in this place and not endeavour to give some

expression to that of which every heart is full. We all press, as it

were, round one darkened chamber, we all feel that with the mourning

family, mother, wife, brothers, sisters, who are there assembled, we are

indeed one. The thrill of their fears or hopes passes through and

through the differences of rank and station; we feel that, while they

represent the whole people they also represent and are that which each

family and each member of each family, is separately. In the fierce

battle between life and death, for the issues of which we are all

looking with such eager expectation, we see the likeness of what will

befall every individual soul amongst us; and the reflection which this

struggle, with all its manifold uncertainties suggests, concerns us all

alike."

The sermon which followed was a skillful presentation of thoughts

suggested by the text, "To live is Christ and to die is gain." It

concluded with an earnest hope that the Royal life which might so

greatly influence the national destinies might still be preserved--"a

life which, if duly appreciated and fitly used, contains within it

special opportunities for good such as no other existence in this great

community possesses; a life which may, if worthily employed, stimulate

all that is noble and beneficent and discourage all that is low and base

and frivolous." In these and other words he concluded a sermon which

could not but have had its influence in after days upon the life and

character of the Prince who so greatly respected and regarded the

preacher. A week later the cloud had lifted from Sandringham and the

life which had been so much prayed for in so many lands was slowly

passing into the region of safety and strength. It gave the opportunity

to Dean Stanley to speak again at the historic Abbey in a strain of

instruction and to draw a national moral from the events of the past few

months. He referred to the spontaneous outburst of every class and every

party which had, to his mind, proved the permanent supremacy of the

British Crown in a Christian State. "There are nations and there have

been times in which the devotion to the reigning family has been a thing

separate and apart from the love of country. There have been times and

places when the love of country has existed with no loyal feeling to the

reigning family. Let us thank God that in England it is not so. Loyalty

with us is the personal, romantic side of patriotism. Patriotism with us

is the Christian, philosophic side of loyalty. Long may the two flourish

together, each supporting and sustaining the other."

On the Sunday following the Thanksgiving Service at St. Paul's--March

3rd--the Dean preached for the last time upon this subject in

Westminster Abbey. After stirring references to the wonderful scene of

national enthusiasm lately witnessed and to the gathering in St. Paul's

Cathedral of representatives of every creed and religious division in

Great Britain (except those of one exclusive body) to offer

thanksgivings in "the venerable forms of the National Church" he

expressed his belief that the demonstration as a whole was "the response

in every English heart to the sense of union--too subtle for analysis

yet true and simple as the primitive instincts of our race--which binds

the people of England to their Monarchy and the Monarchy to the people."

He dealt with the functions and character of that institution in most

striking words. "No other existing throne in Europe reaches back to the

same antiquity, none other combines with such an undivided charm the

associations of the past with the interests of the present. It is the

one name and place which, being beyond the reach of personal ambition,

beyond the need of private gain, has the inestimable chance of guiding,

moulding, elevating the tastes, the customs, the morals of the whole

community. It is the one name and place which, being raised high above

all party struggles, all local jealousies, over all classes,

ecclesiastical as well as civil, is the supreme controlling spring which

binds together in their widest meaning all the forces of the State and

all the forces of the Church. It is the one institution which by very

nature of its existence unites the abstract idea of country and of duty

with the personal endearments of family life, of domestic love, of

individual character."

It was the greatness of this national possession--one which had steadied

national progress and promoted peace in the midst of tumults and freedom

in the midst of disorder--which had, Dean Stanley thought, helped to

make the people pray that its destined heir should be worthy of his

noble inheritance. And then the speaker pointedly and clearly pictured

the increased and increasing responsibilities of the Prince of Wales

upon whom, henceforth, "as by a new consecration and confirmation,

devolves the glorious task of devoting to his country's service that

life which is in a special sense no longer his but ours, for which his

country's prayers, his country's thanksgivings, have been so earnestly

offered." The sermon concluded with a description of these great

responsibilities; an appeal to the Prince to begin life afresh and to

take the lead in all that was true and holy, just and good; a warning

that "of him to whom much has been given, much shall be required;" a

picture of a Christian England fighting evil in every form and in every

place and growing greater in all the elements of higher national and

individual life.

The Life of King Edward VII with a sketch of the career of King George V · 第 7 / 28 章