THE BALL-ROOM, BALMORAL.
(From a Photograph by G. W. Wilson and Co.)
more agreeable, charming companion. Time always flies by when one is with you. I hope it is not impertinent my saying so.” In September the household at Balmoral was saddened by the death of Sir Frederick Bruce, whose sister, Lady Francis Baillie, was then staying at the Castle. Dr. Norman Macleod was also a welcome and valued guest at this time, and, writing in his Diary on the 18th of September, he says, “I had a long and pleasant interview with the Queen. With my last breath I will uphold the excellence and nobleness of her character.”[270] Macleod was now avowedly the Queen’s favourite pastor in Scotland, and there can be little doubt that his influence over her Majesty’s mind was most salutary. His visits always brightened the somewhat dull life of the Castle, and in a letter to his wife (15th October, 1866) he has given a vivid little autumnal sketch of a Balmoral “interior” in those days. He says “the Queen is pleased to command me to remain here (Balmoral) till Tuesday. I found Mr. Cardwell had been in the Barony, and, to the great amusement of the Queen, he repeated my scold about the singing.[271] After dinner the Queen invited me to her room, where I found the Princess Helena and Marchioness of Ely. The Queen sat down to spin at a wee Scotch wheel, while I read Robert Burns to her—‘Tam O’Shanter,’ and ‘A Man’s a Man for a’ That,’ her favourite. The Prince and Princess of Hesse sent for me to see their children. The eldest (Victoria), whom I saw at Darmstadt, is a most sweet child; the youngest (Elizabeth) is a round, fat ball of loving good-nature. I gave her a real hobble,[272] such as I give Polly. I suppose the little thing never got anything like it, for she screamed and kicked with a perfect furore of delight, would go from me to neither father nor mother, or nurse, to their great merriment, but buried her chubby face in my cheek, until I gave her another right good hobble. They are such dear children. The Prince of Wales sent me a message asking me to go and see him.... When I was there the young Prince of Wales fell on the wax cloth after lunch, with such a thump as left a swollen blue mark on his forehead. He cried for a minute, and then laughed most bravely. There was no fuss whatever made about him by mother, father, or any one.... He is a dear sweet child. All seem to be very happy. We had a great deal of pleasant talk in the garden.”[273]
THE QUEEN UNVEILING THE STATUE OF THE PRINCE CONSORT AT BALMORAL. (See p. 298.)
In October fresh domestic cares were added to the overladen life of the Sovereign. To one of these, in a letter from Darmstadt, dated 10th October, 1867, the Princess Louis alludes as follows:—“I can’t find words to say how sorry I am that dear, sweet Arthur[274] should have the small-pox! and that you should have this great anxiety and worry. God grant that the dear boy may get well over it, and that his dear handsome face be not marked. The Major (Elphinstone) kindly telegraphs daily, and you can fancy far away how anxious one is. I shall be very anxious to get a letter with accounts, for I think constantly of him and of you.” And again, on the 14th, she writes: “How glad I am to see by your letter that darling Arthur is going on so very well. One can’t be too thankful; and it is a good thing over, and will spare one’s being anxious about him on other occasions.” In the same letter there is a reference to another matter which had caused the Queen some trouble. There had been, ever since the Danish war, a coolness between the families of her eldest son and eldest daughter, which her Majesty had strenuously endeavoured to remove. Her conciliatory efforts were this year crowned with success. The Prince and Princess of Wales visited the Continent, and met the King of Prussia. “Bertie and Alix,” writes the Princess Louis, on the 14th October, “have been here (Darmstadt) since Saturday afternoon, and leave to-morrow. They go straight to Antwerp, and Bertie is going back to Brussels to see the cousins. The visit of the King went off very well, and Alix was pleased with the kindness and civility of the King (of Prussia). I hear that the meeting was satisfactory to both parties, which I am heartily glad of. Bearing ill-will is always a mistake, besides its not being right.”[275] The embarrassments of the Darmstadt household, however, still continued to grieve the Queen, to whom her daughter the Princess Louis, confided all her troubles. The Princess had broken down in health during the autumn of 1867, and, in one of her letters she tells the Queen that as she does not consider it prudent, “for financial reasons,”[276] to engage a governess for her daughter, the Princess Victoria, she has asked Mr. Geyer, who taught her little black servant Willem, “to give her a lesson every other day.”[277] On the 18th of October the statue to the Prince Consort, at Balmoral, was unveiled, with reference to which the Princess Louis, in one of her letters (26th of October) expresses a hope which was fairly well realised—to the effect that the ceremony “went off as well as the weather would permit.”