It was estimated that £17,000 would be needed for the relief of the widows and orphans. In London alone £20,000 was sent to the Lord Mayor, and by the end of February it was necessary to close the fund, for upwards of £81,000 had been generously subscribed by the public.[139]
A glimpse of the early days of the Queen’s widowhood is afforded in the “Diaries” of one of her chaplains in Scotland—the late Dr. Norman Macleod, Minister of the Barony Parish Kirk, Glasgow. Her Majesty was advised to retire to Balmoral in the first week of May, and when she reached her Highland home she commanded the attendance of Dr. Macleod. He seems to have been somewhat nervous at being called upon to undertake the delicate duty of offering spiritual consolation to his widowed Sovereign. On the 12th of May, however, Dr. Macleod, writing to his wife, says, with a sense of relief, “All has passed well—that is to say, God enabled me to speak in private and in public to the Queen in such a way as seemed to me to be truth, the truth in God’s sight; that which I believe she needed, though I felt it would be very trying to her spirit to receive it. And what fills me with deepest thanksgiving is that she has received it, and written to me such a kind, tender letter of thanks for it.”[140] Writing in his Journal on the 14th of May, Dr. Macleod jotted down, whilst the facts were fresh in his mind, the chief incidents of his visit to the Queen at this painful period of her life. “After dinner,” he says, “I was summoned unexpectedly to the Queen’s room. She was alone. She met me, and, with an unutterably sad expression, which filled my eyes with tears, at once began to speak about the Prince. It is impossible for me to recall distinctly the sequence or substance of that long conversation. She spoke of his excellences—his love, his cheerfulness, how he was everything to her. She said she never shut her eyes to trials, but liked to look them in the face; how she would never shrink from duty, but that all was at present done mechanically: that her highest ideas of purity and love were obtained from him, and that God could not be displeased with her love. But there was nothing morbid in her grief. I spoke freely to her about all I felt regarding him—the love of the nation and their sympathy; and took every opportunity of bringing before her the reality of God’s love and sympathy, her noble calling as a Queen, the value of her life to the nation, the blessedness of prayer.”
MARRIAGE OF THE PRINCESS ALICE.
“Sunday: the whole household, Queen and Royal Family, were assembled at 10.15. A temporary pulpit was erected. I began with a short prayer, then read Job xxiii., Psalm xlii., beginning and end of John xiv., and end of Revelation vii. After the Lord’s Prayer I expounded Hebrews xii. 1-12, and concluded with prayer. The whole Service was less than an hour. I then, at 12, preached at Crathie[141] on ‘All things are ours.’ In the evening at Crathie on ‘Awake, thou that sleepest.’ The household attended both Services.”
“On Monday I had another long interview with the Queen. She was much more like her old self—cheerful—and full of talk about persons and things. She, of course, spoke of the Prince. She said that he always believed he was to die soon, and that he often told her that he had never any fear of death. I also saw the Princesses Alice and Helen—each by herself. No words of mine can express the deep sympathy I have for all these mourners.... The more I hear about the Prince Consort, the more I agree with what the Queen said to me about him on Monday, ‘that he really did not seem to comprehend a selfish character or what selfishness was.’”[142]
