CHAPTER XIV
THE JUBILEE SEASON
With the exception of Prince Alfred, the Queen's children had marriedaccording to the German proverb, "The oldest must leave the housefirst." The next in age was Prince Arthur, or the Duke of Connaught. Hemarried in 1879 Princess Louise of Prussia with the usual magnificentdisplay at St. George's Chapel. The real home welcome, however, wasawaiting them at Balmoral, where they arrived a few months later. Whenthe train came to a standstill, there stood the Queen and PrincessBeatrice, with the Royal Scots for a guard of honor. The Queen gave thebride a bouquet of heather, and they set off for the castle. At the endof the Balmoral bridge was an arch of moss and heather with a motto inflowers, "Welcome to Balmoral." There stood the castle guests, andthere were all the tenants, the women in their Sunday clothes, the menin kilts, and the pipers playing their best and loudest, while thechildren tossed flowers into the carriages and shouted their welcome.
Of course a cairn had been begun in honor of the marriage, and two orthree days later the happy party went to visit it, the Queen on herpony and the others walking. There was a speech of congratulation made,and the health of the young people was drunk. "The health of thePrincess Beatrice ought to be drunk," Brown declared, and that was donewith so many cheers that even the dogs objected to the tumult and beganto bark. After the cheering, each one of the party walked up to thecairn and laid a stone upon it. One of the stones in the foundation wasalready marked with the names of the Duke and Duchess and the date oftheir marriage.
Three years later St. George's Chapel was again ablaze with thesplendor of another royal wedding, that of Prince Leopold, the eighthchild of the Queen, to Princess Helene of Waldeck-Pyrmont. In theevening a state banquet was given, and some of the guests were muchamazed when, just before the Queen was to rise from the table, her twoScotch pipers in their full Highland costume appeared at the door andmarched twice around the room, playing merry Scottish airs.
The home of the newly married couple was to be at Claremont, the placewhere the little Princess Victoria had so enjoyed herself. It had beengranted to King Leopold when he married Princess Charlotte, but on hisdeath it again became the property of the Crown. The Queen now boughtit for the King's namesake. She had given to her son the title of Dukeof Albany, and some of the superstitious among her subjects shook theirheads at that, for so many who had borne the title had met withmisfortune or even with early death.
The wedding celebrations were hardly over before the Queen's thoughtswere centered upon Egypt. The Khedive of Egypt was a great borrower,and to fill his ever empty purse he had offered England some sevenyears previously his shares in the Suez Canal for $20,000,000. Englandhad been very ready to buy them and also to guarantee that people whohad loaned money to this spendthrift should not lose their interest. In1882 some of the Khedive's subjects rebelled against him and gotcontrol of the government. To maintain taxation and so pay the promisedinterest, England must support the Khedive and put down the rebels.
The Queen hated war as badly as her predecessor Elizabeth, but as soonas she saw that it was necessary, she had no patience with delay orpoor preparation. She sent directions continually to the War Office,now about arms, now about blankets or food or the comforts that wouldbe needed in the hospitals. She never had the slightest sympathy withindecision or lack of promptness, and the moment that she thought ofsomething that ought to be done for her soldiers, she sent a message tothe Minister of War. During one day she sent him seventeen.
Windsor Castle.]
The troops sailed. Telegrams were frequent, and on a Monday morning inSeptember there came to Balmoral one marked "Very secret." It waswritten in cipher and said, "Determined to attack the enemy with alarge force on Wednesday." There could be no report of the battle fortwo days at least, but the Queen and her family tried hard to be braveand cheerful. More than once the Queen slipped away from them to praythat her son might return to her in safety, for the Duke of Connaughtwas in Egypt in command of a brigade. Wednesday morning a telegramcame, "The army marched out last night." A second arrived a littlelater, "The enemy has been routed at Tel-el-Kebir, but fighting isgoing on." "Louischen," the wife of the Duke, was with the Queen. Theycould think of nothing but the husband and son, far away beside theNile. Any moment might be the fatal one. They almost fancied they couldhear the boom of the cannon. Never was a morning so long, but at lastthe word came, "A great victory; Duke safe and well; led his brigade tothe attack." The Queen hurried to find "Louischen," and threw her armsabout her neck. "How glad and proud and thankful we can be!" sheexclaimed with tears, not of sorrow but of joy.
That afternoon the Duke of Albany and his wife arrived, and then therewas a double rejoicing. After the drinking of healths of bride andbridegroom, John Brown stepped forward and said, "Ladies and gentlemen,let us join in a good Highland cheer for the Duke and Duchess ofAlbany; may they live long and die happy!" and then there was suchcheering as made the woods and hills ring.
Twenty-six years before, when word had come of the fall of Sebastopol,a bonfire had been lighted on the top of Craig Gowan, and now there wasanother in honor of the Egyptian victory. It was very dark, but no onecared for that. The two princesses and many of the people in the housewalked up to the top of the hill with the pipes playing jubilantly.There the bonfire was lighted, and the Queen watched from the windowsand listened to the pipes and the cheering. When the princesses camedown, they all had a little supper together "in Louischen's room."
With all these family celebrations, indeed with almost every action ofthe Queen's life, John Brown was closely associated. In private and inpublic he was the attendant of his sovereign, ever on the watch to saveher, not only from danger, but from the least annoyance. On oneoccasion, the Queen's carriage stopped in a village after dark, andcurious people thronged about. One man actually held up a lantern toget a plainer view of her face, but all that met his eyes was therugged, determined features of John Brown, for the faithful man hadcalmly put himself between the Queen and her inquisitive subject. Onanother occasion, a woman pushed up to the carriage and stood leaningupon the wheel and staring at the Queen. John Brown thought it a wasteof courtesy to be gentle with such a person, and he growled "Be offwith you!" like an angry policeman to a crowd of troublesomeragamuffins. In 1883 this faithful servant died. There could hardlyhave been a time when the Queen had more need of him, for by a fall onthe staircase at Windsor she had become unable to walk or even tostand.
During the months of her lameness, she prepared for publication avolume of extracts from her journal for 1862 to 1882. The dedicationread, "To My Loyal Highlanders, and especially to the memory of mydevoted personal attendant, John Brown." She was as modest about thisbook as about the first one, and with the copy that she presented toTennyson she sent an almost shy little note saying, "Though a veryhumble and unpretending author, I send you my new book, which perhapsyou may like to glance at. Its only merit is its simplicity and truth."
The Queen's lameness did not prevent her from making her usual springvisit to Balmoral in 1884, but the most unusual precautions were takento insure her safety. Within two or three years the Emperor of Russiahad been assassinated, and in London several attempts had been maderecently to blow up public buildings with dynamite. Generally when theQueen traveled, her time-table was known, and people were at everystation to give her welcome. An engine was always sent before the trainto make sure that the road was clear, but this time, however, thetime-tables were kept secret, and no spectators were allowed to gatherat the stations. Men were usually at work on the road, averaging one toevery half-mile. These men were now supplied with flags to wave as thetrain came in sight. If the engineer saw a white flag, he knew the waywas clear for half a mile; but if the red one was waved, he knew therewas danger or some obstruction ahead, and that he must stop at once.
The Queen was still so much of an invalid that she could stand only afew minutes when the day came that she had to be told of the suddendeath of her youngest son. He was the on
ly one of the nine children whohad not been strong, but the Queen loved him all the better for hissufferings. He was much like his father in mind, and she had hoped thathe would be able to act as her private secretary. Even when he was ill,he was so merry and unselfish that all who saw him loved him. He neverseemed to realize that there was anything in him to call out theiraffection and he once said very simply, "I can't think why peopleshould always be so kind to me."
The Queen felt that the joy had gone from her life, but she sent to herpeople the message, "I will labor on as long as I can for the sake ofmy children and for the good of the country I love so well."
The government of her country gave her little pleasure at that time,for in spite of all that she could do, grave trouble was arising fromwhat she believed was the mistaken course of her Ministers. Egypt hadbeen pacified three years before, but there was revolt in the Soudan. Aman named Mohammed had gone about among the wild Arabs declaring, "I amthe prophet who was to follow the great Mohammed. For twelve hundredyears the world has been awaiting me. Come and fight under my banner."Thousands rose to join him, and Mohammed, or the Mahdi, as he wascalled, led them against the Khedive. That ruler was helpless torepulse them. England was responsible for the good order of hiscountry, and the Ministers debated the question long and seriously,what to do in Egypt.
"Let us send troops to the Soudan and suppress the rebellion," advisedone.
"That is what the Queen wishes," said another, "but it may be that theSoudan is not worth so many lives as would be wasted in conquering therebels."
"It is not," declared another positively. "Let us attempt nothing butto keep the Mahdi out of Egypt."
"But what of our English and Egyptian garrisons in the Soudan?" Thatwas a grave question, and a long discussion followed. The governmentthen in power was ready to do almost anything to avoid war. The Queenlooked upon the matter differently. She was now no girl of eighteen,she was a woman with nearly fifty years' experience in dealing withnations civilized and nations uncivilized. She believed that it wasbest to hold on to the Soudan; but since her Ministers were determinedto abandon it to the revolters, she saw that the only thing to do wasto lose no time in confronting the Mahdi with an army so overwhelminglysuperior to his own forces that he would not dare to attack thegarrisons.
The Ministers did not agree with her. "General Gordon has already shownthat he knows how to manage the people of the Soudan," they said, "andhe will be able to persuade the Mahdi to let the garrisons go free."
"With an army to support him, yes," said the Queen; "but alone, no."
Nevertheless, General Gordon was sent to cross the desert almost alone.In spite of all that the brave commander could do, the Mahdi could notbe persuaded to let the garrisons go, and soon the envoy himself wasshut up in Khartoum. "Help us," he pleaded with England. "Send ustroops." Still the government delayed, in spite of the Queen'swarnings. No help came, and General Gordon then sent a messenger to begprivate parties in the British colonies and the United States for moneyto organize a relief expedition; but the messengers were captured andput to death. The Queen urged and insisted that relief should be given,and the people insisted with her. Troops were sent at last, and theyhastened on till they were only a mile and a half from Khartoum. Butthey were forty-eight hours too late, for the city had fallen, andGeneral Gordon had been slain.
Queen Victoria was a constitutional monarch. She had stood firmly byher Ministers ever since the Bedchamber Plot of the first year of herreign; but she was also a woman, a loving, tender-hearted woman, andshe wrote to General Gordon's sister a letter in which sympathy for herloss and indignation for the "stain left upon England" were mingled.She said:
"DEAR MISS GORDON,
"How shall I write to you, or how shall I attempt to express what I feel! To think of your dear, noble, heroic brother, who served his country and his Queen so truly, so heroically, with a self-sacrifice so edifying to the world, not having been rescued! That the promises of support were not fulfilled--which I so frequently and constantly pressed on those who asked him to go--is to me grief inexpressible."
General Gordon's diary was found and sent to his sister. Its last entrywas, "I have done my best for the honor of our country. Good-by." HisBible was presented by his sister to the Queen. It was placed on acushion of white satin in an exquisite casket of carved crystal withsilver mountings. "This is one of my greatest treasures," the Queenoften said, as she sadly pointed it out to her friends.
The Queen was aroused from her sorrow over what she ever looked upon asa disgrace to her country by the approaching marriage of PrincessBeatrice to Prince Henry of Battenberg. Their wedding was quitedifferent from those of the other royal children, for it was celebratedat the country church near Osborne. No one knew how to manage a royalwedding in a little village church, and there were all sorts ofmomentous questions to be settled before the arrangements werecomplete. It all came out well in the end, however. There was not roomfor quite so many royalties as usual, but the wedding day was adelightful holiday for the people of the Isle of Wight, for there werefireworks, bands, a dinner and a dance for all the tenants and servantson the estate, and a most beautiful display of sailing vessels andsteamers. Tennyson's home was on the Isle of Wight, and the Queen senthim a charmingly informal invitation to the wedding. "It would give methe greatest pleasure," she wrote, "if you would come over for thewedding in our village church, but I fear you won't do that? But praycome and see me when all is quiet again." Tennyson did not attend thewedding, but the Princess must have counted among her choicest giftshis message, "To the royal bride the old poet sends his blessing." Thismarriage alone of all those in the royal family was not to bringseparation, for it was agreed that the Princess and Prince Henry shouldremain with the Queen.
This Queen and Empress had now been on the throne for nearly half acentury, and throughout her dominions there was a feeling that so rarean event ought to be celebrated with fitting magnificence. The Jubileefeeling was in the air. Every town and every little village wished tomark the time by something that should remain as a lasting memorial.Libraries, hospitals, and museums were founded, and parks werepurchased and thrown open to the public. Memorial clocks, statues,schools, and towers sprang into being in every corner of the land, andin all the colonies. "God Save the Queen" was sung in Hindustanee onthe shores of Asia and in Hebrew in the synagogues of London. Addressesof congratulation and loyalty came in by the score; representatives ofall the colonies flocked to England, as sons and daughters hastenedhomeward to a family gathering.
The part to be taken in the celebration by associations, cities, andkingdoms had all been planned when it occurred to the editor of one ofthe London newspapers that nobody had remembered the children. "Let usgive the boys and girls of London a feast and an entertainment in HydePark," he suggested. "You can't do it," declared the grumblers. "It isa foolish, wicked scheme. There will be a crush, accidents will happen,and hundreds will be injured." Nevertheless, people subscribed sogenerously that soon all the money needed had been provided. When thechildren came to the Park, they were taken in groups to great tents;and when they came out, each one had a paper bag which contained "ameat pie, a piece of cake, a bun, and an orange." Their little handsmust have been full, for besides the eatables, each one received alittle medallion portrait of the Queen and a Jubilee mug. The mugs sawhard service among the thirsty little folk, for all day milk, lemonade,and ginger beer were free to every child who presented his empty mug.The children were amused by all sorts of games and shows. Dukes andprinces and representatives of powerful kingdoms came to see the goodtime; and at last the Queen herself came and gave a special greeting,not to the grown folk, but every word of it to the children. Longbefore bedtime had come, every one of the twenty-seven thousand smallpeople was safe in his own home, and the grumblers grumbled no more.
June 21, 1887, was "Jubilee Day." Fifty years had passed since theyoung girl had been aroused from her sleep to hear that she was Queenof a mighty n
ation; and now, in all the glory of her half century ofsuccessful sovereignty, she was to go to Westminster Abbey to thank Godfor his help and protection.
She now represented, not a kingdom, but an enormous empire, and everycorner of it wished to do her honor. The streets of London were spannedby triumphal arches. They were made into a fairyland of flowers,banners, drapings of silk and velvet and tapestry. Staging for seatshad been put up all along the route, and every seat was filled.Fabulous prices were paid for a house, a window or even a few squareinches on a rough plank. Thousands of people had been out since sunriseto secure a place to see the grand procession; and at last it came insight, moving slowly toward the multitude that waited all a-tremblewith excitement and with devotion to the noble woman who was the symbolof home and country.
First came the carriages containing the dark-faced princes of India,robed in cloth of gold, and shaded with turbans glittering withpriceless jewels. Many carriages followed, filled with kings, queens,crown princes, and grand dukes. There were equerries, aides-de-camp, anescort of Life Guards, and a guard of honor composed of princes ridingthree abreast, the Queen's sons, grandsons, sons-in-law andgrandsons-in-law. Towering up among them was the superb figure ofPrince "Fritz," Crown Prince of a united Germany. His uniform was ofpure white, his helmet of burnished steel, and on it was the Prussianeagle with outspread wings. At last the woman for whom all were waitingcame in sight. The splendid robes of her coronation were fifty yearsbehind her, but even in her plainer dress she looked every inch aqueen. The Princess Alexandra and the Crown Princess of Germany werewith her. For twenty-five years the sovereign had so rarely appeared inpublic that to her subjects this was more than a mere royal procession,it was the coming back to them of their Queen. A great wave of devotionand loyalty swept over the hearts of the throng. "Not _the_ Queen, but_my_ Queen," they said to themselves, and such a greeting was given heras few monarchs have received.
The Abbey had been filled long before. Rich strains of music werecoming from the organ. There was a moment's silence, then the silvertrumpets of the heralds were blown, and the church resounded withHandel's march from the "Occasional Oratorio." The Queen entered. Shewas preceded by archbishops, bishops, and deans, all in the mostelaborate vestments of their offices. The guard of royal princes walkedslowly up the nave, three abreast, the Prince of Wales and his twobrothers coming last. Slowly the Queen to whom all the world was doinghonor, ascended the steps of the throne. The vast assemblage washushed, and stood for a moment with heads bowed in reverence.
A short, simple service followed of praise and thanksgiving. Then hersons and daughters, who had been grouped around the Queen, came forwardone at a time to bow before her and kiss her hand. As they rose, shegave each of them a kiss, not of state, but of warm, motherly affectionthat in this crowning moment of her career could not be satisfied withthe restrictions of ceremony.
That evening there were fireworks and illuminations in all theprincipal cities. England shone literally from shore to shore, for abeacon fire was lighted on Malvern Hills, and in a moment, as itsdistant gleam shone on other hills, other beacons blazed, till fromLand's End to the Shetland Islands it was rejoicingly written inletters of fire that for fifty years the realm had been under the ruleof a pure and upright womanhood.
At last the day was fully ended. "I am very happy," said the Queen; andwell she might be, for this day had shown her that she was sovereign,not only of the land and its treasures, but of the loving hearts of hersubjects.
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