tall Indian corn. This was a fatal blunder, for the cover of the cornfield rendered the place eminently convenient for the concealment of an ambuscade. Here the Prince waited an hour, whilst the Zulus surrounded him. Then he gave his men the order to move. The Zulus sprang from their hiding-places and fired on the little band, whose startled horses were difficult to mount. It was impossible to see what was going on in the cornfield, and it was not till the troopers had retreated for some distance that Lieutenant Carey and his comrades discovered that the Prince was missing. To have made a stand in the cornfield would have been to court instant death. It appeared that the Prince had been unable to mount his horse, which was frightened and restive, and that the Zulus overtook him and stabbed him with their assegais. Thanks to Carey’s knowledge of the ground, the rest of the party, with the exception of two troopers, were saved, and Carey was able to give Colonel Wood’s force the valuable intelligence that the enemy, contrary to the general belief, were infesting the country in front.
The indignation of the French Bonapartists at the death of the Prince Imperial was without limit. The ex-Empress, who had encouraged her son to go to South Africa, was prostrated with sorrow and remorse. Even the tender sympathy of the Queen could not console her for the loss of one whose life was necessary for her ambition, and whose death shattered the last hopes of Imperialism in France. It was thought desirable that somebody should be sacrificed to appease the ex-Empress, and Lieutenant Carey was accordingly tried by Court-martial and promptly condemned for “misbehaviour in front of the enemy” while in command of a reconnoitring party. There were only two reasons for attacking Carey. He was the officer of lowest rank who had any connection with the Prince’s ill-fated reconnaissance, and he had absolutely nothing whatever to do with the command of that expedition, or with the Prince’s mismanagement of it. In fact, all that Carey could be blamed for was for saving, by his superior knowledge of the ground, four of the six troopers whom the Prince had led into a fatal ambuscade. It need hardly be said that, on review, the finding of the Court-martial was set aside by the Duke of Cambridge, and Lieutenant Carey restored to his rank. The Duke laid all the blame on Colonel Harrison, who, however, was not tried by Court-martial. But he also complained that Carey made a mistake in imagining that the Prince was in command of the party, a mistake which was not only natural but inevitable, and which was shared by all his comrades. The melancholy and stubborn imprudence of the Prince obviously led the expedition to disaster. The Duke of Cambridge argued that Colonel Harrison should have warned the Prince to be guided by Carey. Having blamed Harrison for not giving Carey sufficiently definite instructions as to the command of the expedition, he made Carey responsible for the defects in Harrison’s instructions. Carey, according to the Duke, should have provided that military skill which the Prince lacked. The truth was that Carey was warned not to meddle with the Prince, who from first to last took command, and who, when advice was tendered to him, rejected it in a manner that did not encourage a spirited and self-respecting officer to press it on him.
The family life of the Court in 1879 was brightened by a Royal wedding. On the 13th of March the marriage of the Duke of Connaught with the Princess Louise Marguerite of Prussia was celebrated with some display. The ceremony took place in St. George’s Chapel, Windsor. At noon the four processions—those of the Queen, the Princess of Wales, the bride and the bridegroom—quitted the quadrangle. The Queen drove in her own carriage, drawn by four ponies, the remainder of the Royal Family occupying the gilded State coaches, driven by the Royal coachmen in their liveries of scarlet and gold. The display of decorations and uniforms and costumes among the august guests was seen to be very brilliant as the Royal party took their places round the Communion rails, where were assembled the Archbishop of Canterbury, the Bishops of London, Winchester, Worcester, and the Dean of Windsor. As Mendelssohn’s march from Athalie resounded through the sacred building the Queen was observed to take her place, dressed in a complete Court dress of black satin, with a white veil and a flashing coronet of diamonds. The Princess Beatrice had discarded Court mourning, and appeared in a turquoise blue costume with a velvet train to match. The bridegroom, wearing the uniform of the Rifle Brigade, was supported by the Prince of Wales and the Duke of Edinburgh. The bride was accompanied by her father, Prince Frederick Charles of Prussia, better known as the “Red Prince,” and the German Crown Prince, who wore the uniform of the 2nd or Queen’s Cuirassiers. The German Crown Princess and the King of the Belgians were also present. The Red Prince gave his daughter away. At the close of the ceremony the Queen and Royal Family returned to the Palace amidst a salute of twenty-one guns.
On March the 25th the Queen and Princess Beatrice, attended by General Sir H. F. Ponsonby, Lady Churchill, Sir W. Jenner, and Captain Edwards, left Windsor Castle for the North of Italy. The Royal departure took place in very wintry weather, snow and sleet falling heavily. In spite of this the railway platform was crowded by visitors, who offered many loyal salutations as the train steamed out of the station at 9.40 a.m. Portsmouth was reached at noon, and the Royal party embarked on board the Victoria and Albert, the yacht sailing at once for Cherbourg, which was reached early in the evening. The Queen slept on board, and left for Paris. When she arrived in Paris she found that though crowds had collected at the station, no one was admitted to the platform except the British Ambassador, Lord Lyons. The Queen, who was dressed in deep mourning, though almost invisible to the people as she drove to the English Embassy, was, nevertheless, greeted with cheers and waving of hats all along the way. On the 27th her Majesty left Paris for Arona. Prior to starting, she was much affected by the receipt of a message announcing the death of her grandson, Prince Waldemar of Prussia. She, however, went through the appointed tasks of the day with her customary self-possession, and received President Grévy and M. Waddington, both visits being brief and formal. The Duc de Nemours also paid her a friendly visit, accompanied by Prince and Princess Czartolyski. On the 28th the Queen, preserving the strictest incognito, arrived at Modane, and after a short interval continued the journey to Turin and Baveno on Lake Maggiore, which was her final destination. On reaching the Italian frontier the Queen received a despatch from the King and Queen of Italy welcoming her Majesty upon Italian soil. The Queen sent a reply immediately, expressing her thanks in cordial terms. On March 31st Prince Amadeus, brother of the King of Italy, arrived at Baveno and had an audience of the Queen. During her stay in Italy her Majesty assumed the title of the Countess of Balmoral, and occupied the Villa Clara, which was placed at her disposal by M. Henfrey, the owner. At first the weather was bad, but in spite of that the Queen made many excursions to places of interest, and as her incognito was respected, her holiday was not burdened with the wearisome formalities of Court etiquette. Alike in France and Italy she was received with hearty good wishes by the people. Garibaldi and the Pope vied with King Humbert in welcoming her with congratulatory messages. On the 17th of April King Humbert and Queen Margherita and the members of their household left Rome for Monza, and on the 18th proceeded to the railway station to meet the train which was to bring the Queen and her suite from Baveno. Punctually at the time arranged the Queen arrived, and, on alighting from her carriage, warmly greeted the King and Queen of Italy. The party then drove to the Royal Castle, where lunch was served, after which the Queen returned to Baveno, which she left on the 23rd of April, arriving in Paris next day. Her return was clouded, as her setting out had been, by the shadow of death. On her arrival at Turin she received the painful intelligence of the death at Genoa of the Duke of Roxburghe, the husband of one of her valued friends. She left Paris on Friday, the 25th, and before her departure she gave away memorial tokens to several of the members of the Embassy. She arrived at Windsor on the 27th, where the German Empress came to spend some days with her in May. During this visit both Royal ladies became great-grandmothers, for the Queen’s first great-grandchild was born on the 12th of May. This was the first-born daughter of the Princess Charlotte of Saxe-Meiningen, the eldest daughter of the German Crown Prince and Princess.
OSBORNE HOUSE, FROM THE GARDENS.
(From a Photograph by J. Valentine and Sons.)
CHAPTER XXIII.
FALL OF LORD BEACONSFIELD.
General Gloom—Fall of the Tay Bridge—Liberal Onslaught on the Government—The Mussulman Schoolmaster and the Anglican Missionary—The Queen’s Speech—The Irish Relief Bill—A Dying Parliament—Mr. Cross’s Water Bill—“Coming in on Beer and Going out on Water”—Sir Stafford Northcote’s Budget—Lord Beaconsfield’s Manifesto—The General Election—Defeat of the Tories—Incidents of the Struggle—Mr. Gladstone Prime Minister—The Fourth Party—Mr. Bradlaugh and the Oath—Mr. Gladstone and the Emperor of Austria—The Naval Demonstration—Grave Error in the Indian Budget—Affairs in Afghanistan—Disaster at Maiwand—Roberts’s March—The New Ameer—Revolt of the Boers—The Ministerial Programme—The Burials Bill—The Hares and Rabbits Bill—The Employers’ Liability Bill—Supplementary Budget—The Compensation for Disturbance Bill—Boycotting—Trial of Mr. Parnell and Mr. Dillon—The Queen’s Visit to Germany—The Queen Presents the Albert Medal to George Oatley of the Coastguard—Reviews at Windsor—The Queen’s Speech to the Ensigns—The Battle of the Standards—Royalty and Riflemen—Outrages in Ireland—“Endymion”—Death of George Eliot.