BALMORAL CASTLE, FROM CRAIG NORDIE.
(From a Photograph by G. W. Wilson and Co.)
Egypt, his advice was that England should “establish a certain security of position in this connecting link between her European and Asiatic possessions” by administering Egypt as a leaseholder from the Sultan. In this way England, he thought, would attain her purpose, and yet escape a conflict with existing treaties, and “avoid putting France and other Powers out of temper.”[199] His counsel was not followed, which was the first affront. The feeble course actually adopted—that of attempting to govern Egypt by advice—had ended in a financial crisis that alarmed all the German bondholders, and they in turn put pressure on Prince Bismarck, that still further increased his irritation against England. Hence, when towards the end of 1884 he meditated a stroke of Colonial policy at the Antipodes, he showed little respect for British susceptibilities. In this new departure he was materially assisted by the incredible folly of Lord Derby. At the end of 1883 the Government of Queensland had sent a police magistrate to annex New Guinea, or rather that portion of it not claimed by the Dutch. It had already been annexed by wandering British navigators, but rumours of foreign designs on the island had quickened the apprehensions and action of the Australians. Lord Derby repudiated this act of annexation. As Lord Derby had been sedulous in warning the Colonists that in war they must defend themselves, it was not easy to understand why he objected to their occupying a territory which, if held by a foreign enemy, would give him a good base of operations against Australia. Ultimately, he nerved himself to the hazard of annexing the southern portion of New Guinea, east of the Dutch possessions, provided the Australian Colonies would enter into a federal engagement to bear part of the expense of holding and governing the country. Lord Derby had not, however, taken care in proclaiming in October, 1884, his intention of annexation to warn foreign Powers off other portions of the island and adjacent archipelago. He virtually invited rival Governments to slip in and seize what he had left untouched. The end of the year, therefore, saw the German flag flying over the unoccupied portion of New Guinea, and the archipelago of New Ireland and New Britain, and all Australia was in an uproar. These events stirred the sluggish heart of Lord Derby. He promptly forestalled a project of German annexation in South Africa by hoisting the British flag at Saint Lucia Bay and over the region between Cape Colony and Natal, known as Pondoland.
On the 25th of January the Marquis of Hertford, one of the ornaments of the Queen’s Court in her happier days, passed away from the scene. Lord Hertford had distinguished himself as an ideal Lord Chamberlain from 1874 to 1879, and he had won the confidence of her Majesty whilst serving as Equerry to the Prince Consort. This, he used to say, was the most interesting part of his career, and among his friends he occasionally told many curious stories, brightly illustrative of Court life in the Victorian period. He had a profound and warm regard for the Prince Consort, who talked more freely to him than to most men, chiefly, he said, because he knew his Equerry kept no diary. Lord Hertford’s stories all tended to throw light on the singularly unselfish nature of his Royal master. One of them, for example, was to the effect that when the Queen and the Prince were crossing the Solent, Lord Hertford, on appearing on deck, found the Prince pacing about and enjoying the fresh breeze, whereas the Queen had been compelled to retire to her cabin. He said to the Prince he was surprised to find him on deck in such a breeze, as he had always heard that his Royal Highness was a bad sailor. The Prince replied, “I know people say that about me, and imagine that the Queen never suffers from sea-sickness. It is better it should be so. The English laugh so much at sea-sickness, that I prefer the laugh should be against me rather than against the Queen.”
In the second week in February the Queen published a continuation of her “Leaves from the Journal of a Life in the Highlands,” the dedication of which was in these words:—“To my loyal Highlanders, and especially to the memory of my devoted personal attendant and faithful friend, John Brown, these records of my widowed life in Scotland are gratefully dedicated.”[200] In this volume she displayed much of the latent Jacobitism which one is apt to develop in the atmosphere of the northern mountains, and again and again, when she records her visits to the scenes, rich in the storied memories of “the ’15 and the ’45,” she expresses her feeling of pride and gratitude that she has inherited, not only the throne of the Stuarts, but the fervent loyalty that bound so many gallant hearts to the cause of “bonnie Prince Charlie.” Her reminiscences are somewhat tinged with melancholy, but the great and motherly loving-heartedness of the book is its chief charm, and secured for it an amazing popularity. It was said that the circulating libraries ordered copies by the ton, and the Press teemed with favourable reviews, in which her Majesty took great interest. As usual, however, she only read those that were marked for her perusal by her ladies. The cover was designed by the Princess Beatrice, and was in every way tasteful and artistic. But the portraits which embellished the work were badly reproduced. That of Brown, however, it may be noted, was an exception, for he was “flattered” by the artist out of all recognition.
The year 1884 was one that brought much sorrow to the Royal Family. During the months of January and February, whilst the Court was at Osborne, though her Majesty’s health had visibly improved, yet she was still suffering from the effects of her accident, and was quite unable to remain long in a standing position. On the 19th of February the Court removed to Windsor, and it was rumoured that the Queen would spend Easter in Germany. She was, in truth, desirous of being present at the marriage of her granddaughter, the Princess Victoria of Hesse, to Prince Louis of Battenberg. On the 26th of March she received Lieutenant W. Lloyd, R.H.A., at Windsor, when he presented to her one of the Mahdi’s flags which had been taken at Tokar, and just as preparations for the German tour were being made, the Royal Household was plunged into grief by sudden tidings of the death of the Duke of Albany, on the 28th of March. He had been living at Cannes for a few weeks. He had taken part with great glee in the festivities of the gayest season that had ever been witnessed in Nice. He returned to Cannes on the 27th, and it seems he had, in mounting the stairs of the Naval Club in the afternoon, fallen and hurt his right knee. He was attended to by Dr. Royle, and, though he went to bed, conversed quite gaily with those round him. At half-past two on the morning of the 28th Dr. Royle was roused by the sound of his stertorous breathing, and, on going to his bedside, found him dying in a fit. The news of his death reached Windsor at noon, and Sir H. Ponsonby broke it gently to the Queen, who was at first so prostrated with grief that her condition alarmed her attendants. As soon as she rallied her Majesty sent the Princess Beatrice to Claremont House to
FUNERAL OF THE DUKE OF ALBANY: THE PROCESSION ENTERING WINDSOR CASTLE.
comfort the Duchess of Albany, then in a delicate state of health. In the afternoon the ex-Empress Eugénie, clad in the deepest mourning, visited the Queen, and stayed till about seven in the evening. She informed those to whom she spoke when she left that her Majesty had apparently obtained some relief by giving expression to her anguish in the sympathetic presence of a friend who had herself suffered many sorrowful bereavements. To none did the sad news convey so severe a shock as to the Prince of Wales. The telegram was handed to him whilst he was chatting with some friends in Lord Sefton’s box on the Grand Stand at the Aintree Race-course, and at first the Prince seemed dazed with the message. He was only able to mutter to Lord Sefton in broken accents, “Albany is dead.” Having retired to his private room to compose his nerves, he drove off immediately to Croxteth. The rumour of the Duke’s death flew round the race-course, but at first was disbelieved. Then the sports were stopped, and the stampede of the pleasure-seekers to Liverpool, where it was hoped that the news would be contradicted, will long be remembered. In London the event was the theme of sympathetic discussion in every train and omnibus and tramcar in the afternoon, as men were returning home from business. The workmen’s clubs at night adjourned their political debates as a mark of sympathy for the Queen. On the following day her Majesty and the Princess Beatrice visited the Duchess of Albany, and the meeting was most touching and mournful. All the details of the funeral arrangements were superintended by the Queen, but the body of the Prince was brought back to England under the personal direction and care of the Prince of Wales, and buried on the 5th of April with solemn pomp in St. George’s Chapel, Windsor. Six of the pall-bearers—Lord Castlereagh, Lord Brook, Lord Harris, Mr. Sidney Herbert, Mr. Walter Campbell, and Mr. Mills—were undergraduates with the dead Prince at Christ Church.