CHAPTER XV
THE QUEEN AND THE CHILDREN
There had been only one drawback to the Queen's happiness during theJubilee rejoicings, and that was the poor health of her favoriteson-in-law, the Crown Prince of Germany. In the procession he hadlooked superbly well and strong, but his throat was giving him so muchtrouble that he remained in England the rest of the year, hoping that achange of climate would do him good.
Everyone loved "Our Fritz," as he was called in Germany, both his owncountrymen and the English. His father, the Emperor, was over ninetyand so feeble that he could not possibly live many months. Ever sincethat summer day on the hills of Balmoral when the Prince had given thesprig of white heather to the maiden of his choice, the Queen had hopedthat Germany would unite under one emperor and that Prince FrederickWilliam would become its ruler. The German states had united, and itwas clear that the German throne would soon fall to her daughter'shusband; but the physicians declared that his disease was incurable.
For several months the whole world watched for news of the belovedEmperor and his equally beloved son. Early in 1888 the Emperor died,and Queen Victoria's ambition of thirty years had come to pass; herdaughter was Empress of Germany. But it was a sad accession to athrone, and the Queen forgot all about her ambitious hopes in herdaughter's grief and her own. Hardly a day passed that she did not sendsome message of sympathy to the sorrowing wife. In three months the endcame. The Emperor "Fritz," whose sufferings had been none the lessbecause he sat on a throne, was dead. His son, the Frederick WilliamVictor Albert who had given his young uncles so much trouble at thewedding of the Prince of Wales, now wore the German crown; but theQueen, instead of rejoicing in her daughter's being Empress of Germany,could only try as best she might to help her bear her loneliness.
No one, whether Princess Royal or Highland cottager, ever appealed tothe Queen for sympathy in vain. She was always especially interested inthe sick. In her Jubilee year, the women of England made her a presentof $375,000, and she gave almost all of it to found an institute whichshould provide trained nurses for the poor in their own homes. Wheninjured soldiers returned to England, she was never weary of going tosee them, of walking down the long rows of beds, saying to one man, "Iam afraid you are in great pain," to another, "England owes much to herbrave soldiers." If she only asked "Where were you wounded?" or lookedat a sufferer with that peculiarly sweet smile of which everyone spokeand which the photographers could never catch, he was content. Some ofthe hospital patients almost believed that her coming would cure them.
"Oh, it does hurt so," sobbed one little girl in a ward for children,"but if the Queen would only come and see me, I know I'd be well."
"Perhaps she will," said the nurse.
"No," cried the little one. "She went right by the door."
Somehow word was carried to the Queen that a little girl who had beenterribly burned was crying to see her.
"Is there another ward that I have not visited?" she asked.
"Yes, Madam," answered the Doctor, "but it is at the extreme end of thehospital."
"Never mind," replied the Queen. "I will go and see the child."
After this visit the little girl who had been so honored was the envyof all the other children as she told over and over her story of theroyal visit. "She came down just to see me," said the little one, "theDoctor told me she did. She put her hand right on my forehead and shesaid, 'I have a little granddaughter about as old as you, and I hopeyou will soon be able to run about as she does.' And then she said'Good-by,' and she said, 'I shall come to see you again.' I wish shewould come to-morrow."
All her life Queen Victoria was fond of children. She liked even thelittle boy who declared stoutly, "No, I don't like you because you cutMary Queen of Scots' head off." When she first became Queen, she alwaysmanaged to have some little folks staying in the palace as visitors,and the ninth child of her own family was just as welcome as the first.In all the displays that were made at her various receptions, she wasnever more pleased than when throngs of children were gathered togetherto greet her. She knew how to please children, and when she went tovisit a school for boys, she won their hearts by requesting the masterto give them an extra week's holiday. She never could bear todisappoint a child. One day when she was driving very rapidly, shecaught sight of a little boy by the roadside looking much grievedbecause he had tried to throw a bunch of flowers into her carriage, andit had fallen into the road. "Drive back," she ordered, and thecarriage with its four horses and driver and attendants was turnedback. "Will you give me those pretty flowers?" she asked, and thelittle boy with tears on his cheeks suddenly became the happiest littlefellow in the Highlands, as he shyly handed her the rather dustybouquet. The children of the Balmoral tenants knew that she would neverforget her promises, and if she said a toy was coming to them atChristmas, it was as sure to come as the day itself. When the littledaughter of the minister in the village nearest to Balmoral was born,the Queen asked that she might be named Alexandrina Victoria forherself. Many gifts were sent to the little namesake, but perhaps theone that pleased her most was the tall sugar ornament from the Queen'sbirthday cake which the Queen herself brought over to the home of thetiny damsel and presented to her.
As the many grandchildren began to circle around Queen Victoria, shehad a warm corner in her heart for everyone. She always wore a braceletwith a place for a miniature, and here the picture of the "new baby"was put, to remain until there was a newer baby whose little portraitshould take its place. The numerous grandchildren and great-grandchildrenwere taught to greet her with the utmost respect, and little boys whocould hardly walk would make a bow to her or kiss her hand as gravelyas any grown-up courtiers. There the ceremony ended, and the good timesbegan.
Of all the groups of children there were some to whom she wasespecially devoted. The daughters of the Princess Alice, as she wasalways called in England, she cared for almost as if they were her own.They made her long and frequent visits, and, little as the Queen caredfor handsome clothes, she saw to it that when these orphangranddaughters were to be married, they should have all sorts of fineapparel and many beautiful jewels.
The children of whom she saw most during the last years of her lifewere those of Princess Beatrice. Two of them were born at Balmoral,first, a little Victoria Eugenie, the first child of the royal familyborn in Scotland for three hundred years. The tenants felt that thischild was really their own, and they put their shillings together andbought her a very handsome cradle. They were all invited to come to thecastle and see the baby, and a carriage was sent for any who were toofeeble to walk. When the second child, a boy, was born, Craig Gowanagain blazed with a bonfire. The pipers played, and all the people onthe estate lighted their torches and marched up to the top of the hillfor a dance.
It is to be hoped that the Princess Beatrice did not have as muchdifficulty in managing her own children as she did when she was sixyears old in commanding the obedience of Prince Frederick William ofGermany and his sister. She is said to have gone to Dr. McLeod,declaring indignantly, "Just think, my nephew William and my nieceElizabeth will not do as I bid them and shut the door, and I am theiraunt! Aren't they naughty?"
One little grandchild who was especially dear to the Queen was the sonof her son Leopold, who died so suddenly. The Duke of Albany commandedthe "Seaforth Highlanders," and after his death the little Duke waslooked upon as their commander. The story is told that when he was sixyears old, he was allowed to "review" his troops. Very seriously he setabout it, wearing a uniform made just like that of the tallHighlanders. He had been carefully taught how to give some of theorders, and he piped them out as gravely as if the fate of a battledepended upon his words. He was delighted to see how promptly the menobeyed him, and he felt quite like a grown man; but he too had to obeyas implicitly as his soldiers, and when he made a boat of a scrubbingbrush belonging to a tenant, and it floated off down the river, thesmall boy was taken straightway to a village store to buy another andpay for it with his own pocket
money.
With so many children in whom she was interested the Queen might wellhave been forgiven if she had forgotten a few of them at Christmas, butsuch a thing never occurred; and even when the birthdays came around,they were never overlooked. She always had a little pity for her ownlonely childhood, and she was very fond of giving her children andgrandchildren feasts and entertainments that they could enjoy together.Dancing bears were brought to Windsor to perform for the children;Punch and Judy often gave them a merry hour; and once at least a monkeywas "commanded" to appear before the Queen with his owner and thehand-organ. Where other people "invited," the Queen "commanded."Performers were very ready to obey, for besides the price paid them bythe palace commissioner, the Queen almost always made them a personalgift of money or jewelry. Moreover, it was an excellent advertisementfor them to perform before the royal family. Among other performersBuffalo Bill and his troupe were commanded to Windsor to show herMajesty and the little people what wild life on the plains of Americaused to be.
Once at Balmoral the Queen commanded a circus to perform before her. Itwas only a little circus, and the proprietor must have been almostoverwhelmed with amazement and delight, but he made ready and set outfor a field near the castle. The "Battenberg children" and the littlefolk from the other two castles which the Queen had built near Balmoralwere summoned to come to the show. The little Alexandrina Victoria wasinvited, and word was sent to all the tenant children. The circusbegan. The children were happy, and even the performing donkey did sofinely that the Queen wished to buy him. Unfortunately he was only aborrowed donkey and could not be sold; but after this fortunate day, itis very likely that whenever he entered the sawdust ring, he wasannounced as "Donkey in Special to Her Majesty the Queen of GreatBritain and Ireland and Empress of India."
The Queen was never bored by these little entertainments, for with allher dignity, she had, as her husband said of his eldest daughter, "thebrain of a statesman and the heart of a child." When the circus came toBalmoral, she watched it for two long hours, and was apparently as muchamused as her small grandchildren; and when the organ-grinder and hismonkey were at Windsor, the Queen laughed as heartily as any of thechildren as the little creature tried his best to find a way into thecastle.
When the Queen was amused, she was very much amused, and sometimes shefound it as hard to keep from laughing outright as any young girl. Onewho was present describes the reception of an embassy from one of theOriental countries when it was all the Queen could do to "keep astraight face." On the English side everything was very ceremonious,for it was desirable to pay special courtesy to the strangers. Theembassy, too, wished to show extreme respect, but no one guessed howthey would do it. They entered, and after making all sorts of strangegestures, they "suddenly bowed themselves, apparently as men strugglingwith acute internal pain, and squeezed their hands together betweentheir knees." The Queen was as motionless as a statue, her facebecoming more and more grave as the formalities proceeded. The momentthe envoys had left the room, however, she broke down and laughed tillher eyes were full of tears. "But I went through it," she cried to herladies. "I did go right through it."
The Queen was no less kind to her servants than to children; but justas her children were taught to obey her, so her servants were requiredto give her prompt and excellent service. "I can't afford to be keptwaiting," she would say, whether the delinquent was a servant or acourt lady. "If I am to get through my work, I mustn't have my momentsfrittered away." After the housekeeping was once fully in her ownhands, there was little more of the irregular, negligent managementthat had formerly prevailed. Everyone employed had his work and wasresponsible for its being well done. It is said that she even made useof the ancient expedient of housekeepers whose dusting has not beenproperly done, and that with her own royal forefinger she once wroteher name on a dusty cabinet. The next day the dust was still there, andthen she wrote under her own name that of the servant who was in fault.When the poor girl discovered that she had been reproved by the Queenof Great Britain and Empress of India, she was so overwhelmed withalarm that she ran away. It is a pleasant ending to the story to knowthat the royal mistress sent for her to come back. The Queen's rule wasvery strict, but if trouble came to any of her attendants, she was assympathetic as if she had been one of their own family. She wanted themto have plenty of amusement, and when in 1886 a great exhibition wasgoing on in London, she gave to her Balmoral servants an invitation tospend ten days at Windsor Castle to see the exhibition and the othersights of the city. The Queen demanded the best of service, but when itwas given, she never felt that money alone would pay for it, and shewas honestly grateful to those who served her well. She had to meet somany strangers that it was a pleasure to her to have familiar faces inher household. When new attendants were to be employed, she was alwaysglad to have members of the families that already served her; and atthe death of John Brown, she gave his place to one of his cousins, whowas already in her employ. When her servants were ill or unable towork, she always cared for them, and saw to it that they had acomfortable home for their old age.
The life of the Queen was gradually becoming very regular in somerespects, and especially in the way that she divided her year. For along time she had made two visits to Balmoral each year, one in thespring and one in the autumn. She made also three visits to Osborne andspent a week or more in London. The rest of her time was given toWindsor and to her "vacation," which she spent somewhere on theContinent. It is hardly fair to say that she had a vacation, forwherever she went, one of her Ministers accompanied her and theever-present dispatch boxes followed her. At Balmoral the "Queen'sMessenger" arrived about six o'clock every morning with his box ofpapers. These were arranged by the secretary in such a way as to saveher all unnecessary trouble. About ten, she entered upon the governmentbusiness of the day, reading, thinking, signing papers, and writing. Athalf-past two the messenger set out for London.
But this was not all her work with the pen, for the royal familycarried on a vast amount of correspondence with the Queen. As nearly aspossible, she wished to hear from each one of them every day, not thekind of letter that says, "I am well and hope you are the same," butletters that told what the writers were doing, and what they thought ofthe events in which they took part. The Queen could not answer allthese communications, of course, but if there was need of her advice orsympathy, she never failed to write; and those of her letters that havebeen made public are charmingly frank and sincere and full of mosttender affection.
Her own marriage had been so happy that in the marriage of herdescendants she paid little attention to whether a proposed alliancewould be of advantage to the kingdom; the chief question in her mindwas whether the young people would be happy together. Two years afterthe Jubilee, the eldest daughter of the Prince of Wales married theDuke of Fife. According to English custom, the daughter of a Prince isnot a peer, but a commoner, and although a title is usually given her,it is only by courtesy and not by right. The Princess Louise, then, wasa commoner, but by marrying a Duke she became a duchess, and would havethe right to precede her sisters if they did not also marry dukes ormen of higher rank. One other privilege that she acquired was that, ifshe was accused of any crime, she could demand to be tried by a jurycomposed of peers.
In 1891 came the fiftieth anniversary of Queen Victoria's marriage, her"Golden Wedding," as her children tenderly called the day. They gaveher a prayer book in which was written a stanza given them by Tennyson:
"Remembering him who waits thee far away, And with thee, Mother, taught us first to pray, Accept on this, your golden bridal day, The Book of Prayer."
Through the sorrowful memories that thoughts of her own weddingaroused, the Queen was looking forward with much pleasure to a marriagethat she hoped would take place. Next to the sovereign herself and thePrince of Wales, the interest of the English centered upon "PrinceEddie," the Duke of Clarence and Avondale, for after his father, hewould wear the English crown, and the whole country was waiting
to seewhom he would choose for his wife. Princess Mary of Cambridge, who hadalways been a warm friend of Princess Alexandra, had married the Dukeof Teck. Their daughter Mary was the choice of the Duke of Clarence,and late in 1891 the engagement was announced. Only a month passedbefore the Duke was taken ill, and in a few days he died. There was adeep and general mourning, for "Prince Eddie" was greatly loved; but tothe Queen there was the loss not only of the first child of herfirst-born son, but of the heir to her crown. She wrote to Tennyson,"Was there ever a more terrible contrast, a wedding with bright hopesturned into a funeral?"
The English people grieved for the loss of "Prince Eddie," whomTennyson called "so princely, tender, truthful, reverent, pure," andthey were sad for the young Princess, "Princess May," as she was alwayscalled, for her merry disposition and good heart had made her a generalfavorite. She said of herself that when she was a child, she was "verynaughty, very happy, and very uninteresting," but the people who knewher did not agree that she was either naughty or uninteresting. She andthe children of the Prince of Wales were old playfellows and the bestof friends. Time passed on, and it began to be whispered that amarriage would take place between Princess May and Prince George, thesecond son of the Prince of Wales. He was now the heir to the throne,and the people were glad that Princess May would some day become theirQueen.
Prince George, or the Duke of York, had spent some years of his life atsea, for before he was twelve years old he entered the navy. The othermidshipmen were on the watch to see whether he would put on airsbecause he was the Prince of Wales's son, but he soon showed himselfready to take part in whatever came up, and no more favor was shown himthan to any other young sailor. Like his uncle, the Duke of Edinburgh,he was called the Sailor Prince. After his marriage to Princess May hadtaken place, and the young pair were on their way to Sandringham, theyfound arches built over the road, and on one was "God bless our SailorPrince."
A loss which in her daily life touched the Queen even more nearly thanthat of the Duke of Clarence, was that of Prince Henry of Battenberg.In 1895 the Africans of Ashanti revolted against British rule, andforces were sent to suppress them. Prince Henry wished to serve. "Ihave been brought up as a soldier," he said, "and now is my time toshow what I can do." The Queen was not willing to have him go, but hedid not give up. "England is my adopted country," he urged. "I belongto her regular army, and I ought to help protect her interests; and forthe sake of my children I ought to establish my position." Even thePrincess Beatrice could not deny that this was true, and at last theQueen yielded. The service of the Prince was short, for not many weeksafter reaching Africa, he was sent home ill of fever, and died on thevoyage. The Queen suffered with her daughter, for the bright, merryways of the Prince had been a real delight to her. "I have lost thesunbeam of my household," she said sadly. One by one she was losingthose who were dear to her, but in every trouble the love of hersubjects was her great comfort, and this love was soon to be manifestedeven more clearly than at the Jubilee of 1887.
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