I, Victoria

by Cynthia Harrod-Eagles

  A London specialist was called in the next day, who agreed there had been some mental impairment. Reid believed the end was near, and privately telegraphed the Kaiser, whom he had promised to forewarn. Arthur was in Berlin at the time, and he and Willy travelled back to England together. They arrived at Osborne on the 21st, with Bertie. The Queen had rallied, but on the 22nd it was plain the end could only be hours away. She died at half past six that evening, with Willy supporting her in his one good arm, Bertie holding her other hand, and Baby, Lenchen, Louise and Arthur at the foot of the bed. Vicky in Germany, dying of cancer of the spine, could not leave her bed of sickness to be there.

  The funeral took place two weeks later, all in white, just as the Queen had planned it. Her coffin, so small it looked like a child’s, was buried next to Prince Albert’s in the Mausoleum at Frogmore, where above the door were the words:

  His mourning widow, Victoria the Queen, directed that all that is mortal of Prince Albert be placed in this sepulcre. AD 1862. Farewell, beloved! Here at last will I rest with thee; with thee in Christ I will rise again.

  After her death, Bertie and Baby between them dealt with her vast accumulation of letters and diaries. Many of the former were destroyed, while the latter, after being transcribed in a severely edited and censored form, were burned.