We shall never look upon the like again. Men will never honour temporal power as they did when they thus exalted a woman who so nobly represented the Past, the Present and the Future of the United Kingdom, the Empire of India, and the Colonies.
Do not say "vanity of vanities." Pomp and Circumstance have their reasons for existence. A society which does not possess a theocracy, an aristocracy and a pomp in proportion to its institutions is a moribund society. It will always be necessary to return to the equivalents of Sovereignty, the Court and Divinity, without which the discrowned social edifice will be a barn or a ruin.
It was on the occasion of one of the great Jubilee entertainments that, owing to my annoying and incorrigible habit of unpunctuality, I arrived late to take my place in the Royal cortège. I will admit that I was often purposely late, because I knew that this enraged the Prince of Coburg beyond anything else, and he always began the day by saying that he knew beforehand I should not be punctual.
Women who read this book will understand how difficult it is to be quite punctual for an engagement when one is wearing a special gown for the first time. Men will never understand these feminine difficulties!
I frankly acknowledge that on this occasion I ought to have arranged matters differently; I did not wish to be in fault. State ceremonial exacted that nobody should be absent at the formation of the cortège. And, as owing to my marriage, my rank and position relegated me towards the end, quite a number of kings and queens had been obliged to wait until I made my appearance.
When I entered I was, naturally, in a state of extreme confusion. But at this period I was in the heyday of my beauty. I knew that I was beautiful and admired. I saw most eyes turned unsympathetically in my direction. The women looked cross, but happily the men, who at first seemed severe, were not long in softening towards me. I was dazzled by the light of these earthly suns!
But to hesitate was to be lost! It behoved me to derive instant advantage from the situation. Silence and impassiveness greeted the apparition of the culprit who had dared hold up the progress of the Queen of England and her illustrious suite. I realized that my entrance must be of the kind which succeeds only once in a lifetime.
I took my time—and I put all the grace imaginable into my curtsy to the Queen, and my bow to the assembled Court.
I approached to kiss my mother's hand, who, overjoyed to hear the flattering murmur which followed my method of asking pardon, drew me towards her, saying as she did so: "You were made to be a queen."
Even now a tear rises from my heart to my eyes. What a strange nature we possess! But when one has been metaphorically born on the steps of a throne, one feels the need for success, homage and ovations. One not only preserves their memory, but one also retains the wish for them and the regret when they no longer exist.