Queen Victoria As I Knew Her Part 6

Yet in the love my people bear me, strong To front an Empire's cares with brow serene.

Yet once again I had the honour of being permitted to express Her Majesty's sentiments in verse. It had long been my earnest hope that peace should reign in Her Majesty's realms while she lived. But this was not to be; and the South African war, with all the loss of life and waste of treasure which it involved, threw many a dark shadow over the last year of the Queen's life. But the shadows were not without breaks of brilliant sunshine. She was proud of the way in which her subjects rose to the difficulties of the time; she was proud of the response of the army and navy, which she loved, to the call upon their valour and endurance. She was proud, too, of the common feeling that bound the colonies to the mother-country, as but for this war they might not for years have been bound, and that they had sent their sons to share its perils and glories--a first step to the consolidation of her Empire.

This was a suggestive theme, to glance at which I thought might please the Queen. I had for years been in the habit of writing a letter of congratulation to Her Majesty upon her birthday. Little weening that it was to be her last, I sent the following sonnet with my letter. It so pleased the Queen, that she gave her sanction to its being published in the _Times_, where accordingly it appeared.

A BIRTHDAY MEDITATION.

_Balmoral, 24th May 1900._

Am I not blest? I cry, as I retrace, Through gathering mists of not unwelcome tears, All I have seen and known through the long years Vouchsafed to me by Heaven's abounding grace; How evermore I have found strength to face Their cares, their griefs, their overshadowing fears, Nerved by the loving loyalty that cheers My heart in all its lonely pride of place.

Oh, my dear land, whose sons, where'er they came, Of freedom and of right have sown the seed, Behold, _their_ sons in serried thousands claim A place beside thee, in thine hour of need, Thy peril theirs, thy fortune theirs, thy fame!

Thinking of this, am I not blest indeed?

As it happens, I write the concluding pages of this humble tribute to the memory of my beloved Queen in my study at Bryntysilio, on the anniversary of the day when the n.o.ble woman pa.s.sed from earth, who was for more than fifty years the crown and comfort of my life. It is a day intimately a.s.sociated with my thoughts of Her Majesty, for late in the evening of this day, after the constant inquiries of many weeks, a telegram asking for information came from the Queen only a few hours before my wife fell asleep. Its words were the last she read. She tried to reply to the Queen with her own hand, but had to give up the attempt.

To the Queen the first news of my loss was sent, and it was answered by a message right from the heart in a few of those incisive words, for which the Queen had a special gift, that speak directly home to the heart. Nor did her sympathy end here. She so arranged that on the morning of the funeral in London a letter in her own hand from Balmoral should reach me with words of encouragement such as those from which she had herself so often had to seek courage in her own hours of desolation and bereavement.[30] Nor was this all. Next morning, between eight and nine, I received a telegram from Her Majesty, inquiring how I had borne the ordeal of the previous day. Can more be said to show the tender, thoughtful, womanly nature, which won the grat.i.tude and reverence of those who knew her best, and which also operated to create a feeling of affectionate regard in all her subjects, and indeed throughout the world?

One more instance of Her Majesty's never-failing kindness to myself! The Christmas morning of 1900 brought me its wonted offering from her in the shape of a beautifully framed copy of Angeli's last portrait. As I looked at it my heart was full of sadness, for I read in the familiar face, as there depicted, the manifest indications of physical weakness, and of the probably early fulfilment of an apprehension, which had for some time possessed me, that the end of this "great woman" was near.

What pathos to me in the thought, that in a time of so much weakness and preoccupation the Queen had taken care that I should not be without the accustomed Christmas memorial from her. There are memories that "lie too deep for tears." This is one of them.

Yet a few words more! I have lived too long not to have learned forbearance in my judgments of character in man or woman, even when its qualities seem to lie very much upon the surface. I have also learned to revere the memories of all who have earned honourable distinction by act or word. Experience has taught me how little we can know of the true nature even of those with whom life has made us familiar, how infinitely less of those whom we have never known, or who have followed pursuits in which we have never shared, or lived in a sphere remote from our own.

Much, therefore, as I saw of the Queen as a woman, much as I had occasion to know of the remarkable powers of mind which she brought to bear upon the performance of her functions as a sovereign, I should not venture to form, much less to publish, an appreciation of these powers, without those full materials for a judgment which are not at present before the world, but which may in due season be expected to see the light. Enough, however, came under my observation to show me how great the Queen could be, when occasion called for the exercise of her higher powers. I know how richly endowed she was with the "instincts of the heart, that teach the head,"--intuitions which prompted her to say the right word and do the right thing without fail, whenever a grave or great purpose was to be served. Perched as she was, to use her own words now lying before me, "on a dreary, sad pinnacle of solitary grandeur," I know with what constancy and courage she bore the isolation. I know how simple, how humbly-minded she was, how truthful, how full of loving-kindness, how generous, how constant in her friendships. I know how she leant for consolation and support upon the love of her people, how earnestly she sought to gain it by sympathy with their interests and their sorrows, by constant watchfulness for the wellbeing of all throughout the world who owned her sway. I know, too, how resolute she was to uphold justice, and honour, and right, wherever her voice could be heard.

Others may find pleasure, when they write of Queen Victoria, in speaking slightingly of the qualities of mind and heart which went to form a truly n.o.ble character, of which personally they can know nothing. To such I answer, Who in the history of monarchies has lived a life so exemplary, so pure, so absolutely devoted to the service of the State,--who of all we read of so won the affection of their people, the admiration of the world, as she has done? I think of the mighty task she was called upon to fulfil, and how admirably she fulfilled it, under trials and drawbacks of which the outside world can form no estimate. I think of her, borne to her tomb along the London streets, through threefold ranks of her people, all pale, silent, and with heads reverently bowed, as though in mourning for one they loved. I see her bier borne to the altar in St George's Chapel, followed by men who represented all the Rulers of all the Nations--a gorgeous throng that crowded the central aisle of the great chapel from the western door up to the altar steps. Was ever such tribute paid in the world throughout all the ages past? Is such tribute ever likely to be paid again?

It is of this marvellous tribute, and how it was won, that we should think,--not of this or that foible or shortcoming, for who is without them? Above all, we should think of the heavy, unceasing burden that lay upon brain and heart through a long life, and with how brave and constant yet how meek a spirit it was borne. Then, remembering all this, let us, while we live, cherish in our hearts the name of our departed Queen, and pa.s.s it on to those who shall succeed us, as

Victoria the Great and Good.

PRINTED BY WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] He died in May 1874. "Dear M. V. de Weyer's death," Her Majesty wrote to me on the 30th of that month, "is a terrible loss to the Queen, and she has been deeply grieved by it."

[2] A translation of Oehlenschlager's drama of that name.

[3] General Grey's book.

[4] A ruby and diamond bracelet.

[5] I must have expressed in some letter at this time regret that none of Her Majesty's Ministers had taken the opportunity of explaining the circ.u.mstances which had hurt Her Majesty's health, and compelled her to avoid the fatigues of the public appearances which were called for, and which were undoubtedly desirable, if the Queen's health had admitted of their being made.

[6] They came with the following note:--

"OSBORNE, _May 3, 1869_.

"The Queen sends Mr Martin to-day a volume of the beloved Prince's and her own etchings, which she has had purposely bound for him, and which she hopes he will place in his library, as a trifling recollection of his kindness in carrying out so many of her wishes."

[7] _Quarterly Review_ for April 1901: article "Queen Victoria," p. 305.

[8] It is of such that Sir Henry Taylor writes in his _Philip van Artevelde_, Act I. Sc. v.:--

"He was one Of that small tally, of the singular few, Who, gifted with predominating powers, Bear yet a temperate will, and keep the peace.

The world knows nothing of its greatest men."

[9] _Denkwurdigkeiten aus den Papieren des Freiherr's Christian Friedrich v. Stockmar._ Braunschweig, 1872.

[10] _Quarterly Review_ for April 1872, p. 386 _et seq._

[11] "Thy dear image I bear within me, and what miniature can come up to that? No need to place one on my table to _remind_ me of _you_."

[12] Life of Archbishop Benson, vol. ii. pp. 2 and 561.

[13] The allusion is to the lines in the fine pa.s.sage in the seventh section of that poem, beginning, "Blame not thyself too much":--

"Let woman make herself her own To give or keep, to live and learn, and be All that not harms distinctive womanhood.

For woman is not undevelopt man, But diverse; could we make her as the man, Sweet love were slain; his dearest bond is this, Not like to like, but like in difference."

[14] I had occasion to record in the Prince's _Life_ (vol. iii. p. 248) a somewhat similar impression on Napoleon III. and his Empress with regard to the Tuileries, in the following extract from the Queen's Diary: "Speaking of the want of liberty attaching to our position, he (the Emperor) said the Empress felt this greatly, and called the Tuileries _une belle prison_."

[15] Published, London, 1868, by Smith, Elder, & Co.

[16] General Grey's duties were immediately taken up by Colonel, afterwards General, Sir Henry Ponsonby, who discharged them with conspicuous zeal and ability till he was struck down by fatal illness in January 1895.

[17] These letters were from Royal personages on the subject of the Emperor's death.

[18] See p. 51, _ante_.

[19] Feodore Victoire, d.u.c.h.ess of Saxe-Meiningen, who died on the 12th of February 1872. Her mother, the Queen's half-sister, Feodora, Princess of Hohenlohe-Langenburg, survived her only a few months, dying on the 23rd of September 1872.

[20] He died on the 23rd of May 1874. The Queen came from Windsor to visit him at his house in London, when he was near his end. A few days before his death I took my leave of him. He was in great pain, but his bright sparkling spirit remained. He touched my heart by saying how sorry he was he had only known me within the last few years. On my expressing a hope that we might meet again in the Hereafter, "Ah! let us hope so!" he replied, adding, like the bibliophile of bibliophiles that he was, "and that you will find me in an _editio nova et emendatior_."

[21] In my library in London there happened to be a niche, as if made to receive this beautiful replica of the Mausoleum monument, where it has ever since remained.

[22] I had given to the Queen a fine proof before letters of her portrait, as a girl, by Fowler, and she wrote to say that "the bust by Behnes, from which Fowler took his picture, was done in 1827, when the Queen was eight years and a half."

[23] The Sovereign _nominally_ is the dispenser of these pensions, but the Queen delegated this function to the First Lord of the Treasury.

This was why the concurrence of Lord Beaconsfield was necessary. With him the Queen's wish in such matters was paramount.

[24] A volume published in Germany in imperial folio, with a series of very spirited ill.u.s.trations, and remarkable for the beauty and originality of the binding.

[25] A magnificent volume, including, among other ill.u.s.trations, photographs of all Baron Triqueti's designs in inlaid marble.

[26] The pet name subst.i.tuted for Friedrich.