CHAPTER XVI
THE CLOSING YEARS
One autumn day in 1896 vast numbers of telegrams were sent to QueenVictoria, not only from the English colonies, but from almost all thecountries of the world. They were full of congratulations on the lengthof her reign; for now she had been on the throne longer than any otherEnglish ruler, and longer than any one who had ever ruled on theContinent except Louis XIV. No European monarch who had been on thethrone at her accession or even ten years after her accession was stillreigning. She had seen change of government, assassination, revolution,in other kingdoms, but the monarchy in England had stood firm and wasmuch stronger than when she became Queen.
Her Majesty, Queen Victoria.(_From a photograph by A. Bassano._)]
England would not permit such an event as this to pass without acelebration. Preparations for the "Diamond Jubilee" to mark Victoria'ssixty years of sovereignty were commenced many months before the timeappointed. More than a million strangers were expected to be in Londonduring the two weeks of the festivities, and the hotel-keepers began toplan how to feed them. Non-perishable foods were brought thousands ofmiles, and fields of vegetables were bought before they were planted.Next to something to eat, the visitors would wish for a place to see,and owners of houses standing on the route to be taken by theprocession expected to get more for a single window than the usual rentof a house for a year. The tenants of these houses were given notice toquit, and as the time drew near, those who refused to leave were putout by force. These removals were called "Jubilee Evictions."
Not everybody was busy with plans for money-making. There was anenormous amount of decorating going on. "V. R." was everywhere and inall sorts of materials, from cut glass and gold to red calico. Therewere roses, lions, crowns, unicorns, wreaths, banners, and pictures ofthe Queen at every turn. The route which the procession was to followwound past the homes of the poor as well as those of the rich, and eventhe poorest found means to brighten the dingiest abode with a bit ofcolor.
As June 22, 1897, drew near, troops from every British colony began tobe seen in the streets of London. Uniforms of red, white, yellow,brown, green, blue, and all kinds of minglings and mixtures decoratedthe city. There were so many Chinese, Africans, and Hindus, brownpeople, yellow people, and white people, from every part of the world,that one might almost wonder whether there would be room in the streetsfor the Londoners, if they should attempt to leave their homes. Itlooked as if it might be a little difficult to leave some of thehouses, for scaffoldings had been built in front of them, and sometimeseven far above the roofs, so that as many seats as possible might berented. The procession was to follow a route six miles long, and somany high scaffolds had been raised that the march would be like ajourney through a canyon whose sides were all aglow with every kind ofdecoration that could be imagined; for the people seemed to feel thatthe brighter their hangings were, the more loyal they were showingthemselves to be, and the result was gorgeous if not always beautiful.
In the colonies the day was being celebrated, and telegrams of loyaltyand congratulation were coming to the Queen by the score. As she passedthrough the doors of Buckingham Palace at eleven o'clock, she sent toevery colony the message: "From my heart I thank you, my belovedpeople. May God bless you." Then she entered her carriage and passedon, escorted by kings, princes, long lines of seamen, masses of Britishtroops and masses of colonial troops. The long cavalcade went on slowlyto Temple Bar, the old entrance to the city. There the Queen paused,and the thousands in line paused. The Mayor, most imposing in his longvelvet cloak, presented her with the sword of London in token of thecity's homage. She touched the sword in acceptance, and the processionmoved on.
The second stop was at St. Paul's. The eight cream-colored horses werereined up before a superb mass of color and glitter, for on the stepsof the church were ambassadors, bishops, archbishops, judges, andmusicians, flashing with diamonds, gleaming in cloth of gold, gorgeousin the red, blue, and pink hoods of the universities, and all framingin a great square of white-robed little choir-boys. Prayer was offered,the Te Deum was chanted, "God Save the Queen" was sung, and thousandsof people wiped their eyes as they joined in "Praise God from whom allblessings flow." The benediction was pronounced and the processionturned slowly away. And as the tread of the horses sounded again on thepavement, the Archbishop forgot his magnificent canonicals, he forgoteverything except that he was an Englishman and that Victoria was hisQueen, and he led the whole ten thousand people in three tremendouscheers for their sovereign.
That night everything was illuminated that could be illuminated; and,as in 1887, beacon fires flashed from hill to hill and from headland toheadland. The Prince of Wales suggested that the best memorial of theday would be a general subscription to pay the debts of the principalhospitals, and in a great sweep of generosity $3,750,000 was promptlysubscribed. The Princess of Wales wrote to the Lord Mayor of London,expressing her interest in the poor of the city, and gifts amounting to$1,500,000 were made at once for their benefit. The rejoicing went onfor a fortnight. There were reviews of soldiers and of battleships,there were concerts, exhibitions, and dinners for the poor. One part ofthe celebration was the manufacture of a mammoth cake by the same firmthat made the coronation cake. This Jubilee cake weighed five hundredpounds, and five hundred more was added to it in frosting and sugarornaments. Around it was a great wreath of sugar roses. A lofty towerof sugar rose from within the wreath with many monograms, medallions,crowns, lions, unicorns, angels of fame and of glory blowing greatsugar trumpets; and at the very top was the angel of Peace with whiteand shining wings.
It would have been a source of deep happiness to the Queen if peacecould have prevailed throughout the empire during those last years ofher life, but in 1899 war arose between the English and the Boers ofSouth Africa. As usual, she hoped to the last that there would be nowar, but when she saw that it must come, she had no patience with theleast delay in sending troops, and she urged re-enforcing the army sothat the war might be ended as soon as possible. She was not satisfiedwith acting through others; she wanted to do something for the menherself with her own hands, and she set to work to knit caps andcomforters to be sent them. When Christmas came, she distributed toysand candy among the soldiers' children; and, remembering that "Men areonly boys grown tall," she sent 100,000 boxes of chocolate to hersoldiers at the front. When the wounded and the ill were brought home,she often went to the hospitals, and she had many convalescents come tovisit her at Windsor.
In this African war the Irish troops had shown such bravery that theheart of the Queen was completely won. She said to her Ministers:
"I have decided to pay a visit to Ireland to thank those braveIrishmen."
The Ministers were delighted to have her make the visit, but theyremembered that she had not been in Ireland for forty years and thatthe Irish felt they had little reason to love the English government."It will be only wise to have an escort of cavalry around yourcarriage," they suggested.
"No," she answered. "I am their Queen, and they are my people. If Ishowed any distrust of them, they would think I deserved to be afraidof them."
_Punch_ published a picture of Hibernia kissing the hand of thesovereign and saying: "Sure, your Majesty, there's no place like home,and it's at home you'll be with us."
The Queen was right in trusting herself without fear to the people ofIreland; for however they might feel toward the English government,they would show nothing but respect to the English Queen who had madeherself the guest of their country.
She landed at Kingstown and was received with all due form by the LordLieutenant of Ireland; but the more ceremonious reception was awaitingher at Dublin, where elaborate preparations had been made. The LordMayor and the other officials of the city were all in their long redrobes heavily trimmed with fur. Attendants in black velvet and silverlace followed them, one holding a great basket of flowers high up, sothat all the people could see it. A table, richly draped with silk, wasplaced before the Mayor. On the table was
a blue satin cushion, and onthe cushion was a golden casket. The casket was lined withpearl-colored silk strewn with shamrocks embroidered in blue, and inthe casket were the keys of the city, and an address to the sovereign.
Of course these were not real keys of a real gate, for Dublin has nogates, but in order to carry out the interesting old ceremony, tallgates and towers of painted canvas had been erected, and as the Queenand her escort drew near, a trumpeter from the highest watchtower blewthree resounding blasts and cried:
"The Athlone pursuivant is at the gates."
"With what message does he come?" asked the Lord Mayor.
"He is the bearer of a request from the Queen of Great Britain andIreland," replied the trumpeter.
"He may enter."
The pursuivant entered, and the Lord Mayor demanded:
"With what message do you come to the gates of the city of Dublin?"
"I bear the request of the Queen of Great Britain and Ireland that shemay enter her city of Dublin," he replied.
"Open the gates and admit the Queen of Great Britain and Ireland,"commanded the Lord Mayor.
The pursuivant galloped back; the gates were flung wide open; theHousehold Cavalry dashed through; and then came the Queen. The LordMayor presented the beautiful casket and made his address; the Queenhanded him a written reply; the Lady Mayoress presented the basket offlowers; and the Queen had been formally received as the guest of thenation.
This three-weeks' visit to Ireland was one of the Queen's "vacations,"but it was hardly a restful time, for she visited hospitals, orphanasylums, schools, and convents; she received delegations of nurses anddoctors, and entertained the prominent people of the country. She wentto the Zoological Gardens and made the acquaintance of a baby bear, andtwo baby lions, who were just as cross as if she had not been theirlawful sovereign. She took drives about the city and the country; shereviewed troops; and finally she accepted an invitation to reviewthirty thousand school children. In this review, she was much amusedwhen one small child called out, "Sure, you're a nice old lady!" Oneschool was delayed, but in order not to disappoint the children, theQueen arranged a little reception for them later in the day.
The visit to Ireland had given the Queen pleasure, but the continuedfighting with the Boers was a grief to her, and in the summer of 1900she had to meet trouble that touched her even more nearly in the deathof her son Alfred, Duke of Connaught. The Duchy of Saxe-Coburg-Gothahad asked him to become its ruler, and the Duke of Albany had beenappointed his successor. This Duke of Albany, who had reviewed hisregiment of Highlanders when he was six years of age, was now sixteen,and in two years more he would sit on a throne.
So the years of the Queen passed on with their joys and sorrows. Hervisit to Ireland took place in 1900. For four or five years previous tothis date she had suffered so much from rheumatism that it was hard forher to walk, and in the house she was generally moved about in awheeled chair. The door of her special car was widened so that thechair could be taken in easily. Two years before going to Ireland, hereyes began to trouble her. "Use black ink and a broad pen" were theinstructions she gave to her Ministers; but even though her sight grewfaint, she would not lay down the task that she felt was her own.
Toward the end of 1900 she seemed less strong than usual. "You mustsave yourself in every possible way," ordered the physicians, "and youmust not write more than is absolutely necessary." Christmas was near,but this year her greetings to each member of her family were writtenfor her. Letters and telegrams were read to her, but her interest inall matters was as strong as ever, and her judgments were as rapid andsagacious. She met Lord Roberts on his return from South Africa andquestioned him closely about all the details of the war. Two or threedays later, when she awoke in the morning, she seemed very weak, andher speech was less clear than usual. Telegrams were sent to themembers of her family. Germany was in the midst of an enthusiasticcelebration of the two hundredth anniversary of the establishment ofthe Prussian monarchy; but Emperor William said: "It is my sorrow andmy nation's sorrow. Let the festivities cease." He left his kingdom andhastened to England. On the day after his arrival, January 22, 1901,Queen Victoria, with her children and grandchildren about her, passedquietly away.
The Queen had never liked the gloomy trappings of funerals, and longbefore this she had bidden that about her own there should be no touchof the somber and sorrowful. The room in which she lay was hung withdeep red. There were palms and flowers around it, and about the bierwere many tall white candles. The ermine-lined robe of the Garter waslaid upon her coffin together with the flag of the country that she hadloved. Grenadiers stood motionless, two at the head and two at thefoot, keeping guard about her with bowed heads and arms reversed.
So she lay in her own home at Osborne until the day of the funeral wascome. No hearse was driven to her door, for the soldier's gun-carriagewas to bear the soldier's daughter to her resting place. The bier wascovered with ruby velvet. Over it was thrown a pall of white satin withheavy edge of gold and the royal arms in each corner. On this was laidthe royal standard, the crown, the insignia of the Garter, and thegolden orb of empire which she had carried in her hand at hercoronation. In white and gold, the emblems of purity and royalty, shewent forth from her home for the last time. Her children andgrandchildren, princes and princesses, walked slowly behind her downthe long avenue of trees, whose branches shown out clear and distinctagainst the bright blue of the sky. At the water's edge, thegun-carriage was drawn on board the yacht _Alberta_. Followed by the_Victoria and Albert_, the _Osborne_, and the massive _Hohenzollern_ ofthe Emperor William, the little yacht moved through the mighty lines ofwarships, English, German, and French, whose cannon thundered out theirlast salute.
This was the farewell of the navy. That night the yacht with itsprecious burden lay quietly in harbor; and in the morning the body ofthe Queen was placed on the train to be carried to London. There housesthat so lately had been all aglow with the colors of gladness were nowdraped with purple and white. Throngs were in the streets, but theystood in perfect silence, the men bareheaded, and every woman with somebadge of mourning. Slowly the gun-carriage was drawn through the city,followed first by the two sons of the Queen with the German Emperor,then by her other relatives, by members of the royal family in Europe,and troops representing every branch of the army. The navy was alsopresent in a guard of honor of sailors, and it was they who were calledupon to perform a last service for their Queen. At Windsor the horsesof the gun-carriage had become uneasy, and in a moment, with hardly aword of command, they were unharnessed, and the sailors themselves drewthe gun-carriage to the castle. That afternoon the funeral rites wereobserved in St. George's Chapel with words of prayer and the strains ofmusic that the Queen herself had chosen. The herald made solemnproclamation that Queen Victoria was dead and that her oldest son,Edward VII., was King of Great Britain and Ireland and Emperor ofIndia.
On the following morning the body of the Queen was borne to thebeautiful mausoleum at Frogmore which she had erected for Prince Albertnearly forty years before. Muffled drums were beaten; sad, sweetfuneral marches were played by the martial bands; and so, through thelong avenues lined with soldiers, the procession moved onward. AtFrogmore, the bands were hushed, and the Highland pipers, walkingbefore the coffin, played the weird, mournful strains of the "Lament ofthe Black Watch." Prayer was said, earth from the Mount of Olives wasdropped softly upon the coffin, and the Queen was laid to rest besideher beloved Prince.
Next morning the flowers were faded, the flags were no longer athalf-mast, the stores and offices were opened, and life went on asbefore; but in the homes of England those who had known and loved theQueen were talking of her tenderly and thoughtfully. "She always didwhat she believed was right," said some. "She was always sorry forthose who suffered," said others; and some repeated reverently thewords of the Scottish pastor who had known her so well:
"I admire her as a woman, love her as a friend, and reverence her as aQueen."
THE END
>
In the Days of Queen Victoria Page 17