But public interest in politics faded as the Session grew old. Indeed, from the beginning of the year, the attention of the country was more and more concentrated on the movements of the Queen. It was known that she had nerved herself to emerge from her seclusion, and, in some degree, discard the mourning weeds she had worn so long. The first note of the Jubilee was struck in India, where the great Imperial festival was celebrated on the 16th of February. In presidency towns, inland cities, the capitals of Protected States—even in Mandalay, the capital of the newly-conquered State of Upper Burmah, natives and Europeans vied with each other in acclaiming the event. Announcements of clemency, banquets, plays, the distribution of honours, reviews, illuminations, were not the only methods adopted for celebrating the Jubilee. At Gwalior all arrears of land-tax—amounting to £1,000,000—were remitted. Libraries, colleges, schools, waterworks, hospitals, and dispensaries were opened in honour of the Empress.
“These are Imperial works and worthy thee,”
might well be the comment of the chronicler on such celebrations. All over England preparations were now being made for the great anniversary. In every town meetings were held to decide as to the mode of its observance, and it was curious to notice that everywhere the people desired to localise their rejoicings. Public parks, libraries, town-halls, museums, hospitals—in a word, the foundation of works and institutions of public usefulness in each locality was universally regarded as the best means of honouring the occasion. There was only one Jubilee institution of national grandeur that won public favour—the Imperial Institute. It was originated, as has been noted, by the Prince of Wales, and it was to his energy and skill in appealing for public support that the enormous funds needed for its endowment were now collected. In March the congratulatory addresses began to come in—the Convocation of Canterbury, whose deputation headed by the Primate was received by the Queen at Windsor on the 8th of March, leading the way.
On the 23rd of March Birmingham, in spite of the boisterous weather, was en fête to receive her Majesty who arrived to open the new Law Courts in that town, and few who were present will ever forget the mighty shout of enthusiasm that rose up from the swarming throng, when the Queen’s procession turned into New Street. Never was Royalty more loyally received than in the Radical capital of the Midlands. The Democratic demonstration at Birmingham gave point to the passage in the Laureate’s Jubilee Ode, in which he wrote:—
“Are there thunders moaning in the distance?
Are there spectres moving in the darkness?
Trust the Lord of Light to guide her people,
Till the thunders pass, the spectres vanish,
And the Light is victor, and the darkness
Dawns into the Jubilee of the Ages.”
On the 29th of March her Majesty, accompanied by the Princess Beatrice and Prince Henry of Battenberg, left Windsor for Portsmouth, where they embarked in the Royal yacht for Cannes. On the 5th the Royal party went to Aix-les-Bains, where the Queen occupied her old rooms at the Villa Mottet. Aix was wonderfully free from visitors, and she, therefore, enjoyed almost complete privacy during her stay. By the special sanction of the Pope her Majesty, on the 23rd of April, was allowed to visit the Monastery of the Grande Chartreuse, within whose precincts no woman’s foot is permitted to tread. She returned to Windsor on the 29th of April. On the 4th of May she received at the Castle the representatives of the Colonial Governments, who presented her with addresses congratulating her on having witnessed during her reign her Colonial subjects increase from fewer than 2,000,000 to upwards of 9,000,000 souls, her Indian subjects from 96,000,000 to 254,000,000, and her subjects in minor dependencies from 2,000,000 to 7,000,000. On the 9th her Majesty held a court at Buckingham Palace, at which the Maharajah and Maharanee of Kutch Behar and the Maharajah Sir Pertab Sing were presented to her. On the 10th she held a Drawing Room, and afterwards visited a private performance of the feats of the American cowboys, and Indians, and prairie-hunters at the “Wild West Show” at Earl’s Court. On the 14th she opened the People’s Palace at Whitechapel, an institution which had grown out of a suggestion in Mr. Walter Besant’s romance of “All Sorts and Conditions of Men.” The route of procession from Paddington was seven miles long, and it was thronged with people, who gave the Queen as warm a welcome as she had received in Birmingham. On her return her Majesty visited the Lord Mayor at the Mansion House. This was a remarkable event, for her Majesty had not entered the Municipal Palace since she had visited it with her mother two years before her accession. Her Majesty partook of tea and strawberries with her Civic hosts, with whom she spent fully half-an-hour, charming the company with her affability. On the 20th the Court removed to Balmoral, where the Queen found her mountain retreat covered with snow. On the 17th of June the Court returned to Windsor, and on the 18th her Majesty received at the Castle the Maharajah Holkar of Indore, and several Indian princes and deputations from Native States.
The Jubilee itself was celebrated on the 21st of June. The chief streets of London were given over to carpenters and upholsterers, gasmen, and floral decorators, who transformed them beyond all possibility of recognition. On the night of the 20th the town was swarming with people, who had come out in the hope of seeing some of the illuminations tried. As the day dawned crowds began to stream into the metropolis, and in the forenoon every face wore a festal aspect. Fabulous prices had been paid for seats along the line of procession, and those who had secured places were in possession of them early in the morning. Everybody was in good humour, and the police were exceptionally amiable. At the point of departure—Buckingham Palace—there were no decorations, but the presence of the Guards and of the seamen of the Fleet, who were on duty within the gates, gave animation to the scene. As eleven o’clock—the hour of starting—approached, a strange silence seemed to fall over the noisy, gossiping crowd, as if men and women felt awed and touched at the sight of their aged Sovereign proceeding in State from her Palace to the old Abbey to thank God for permitting her to see the fiftieth year of her reign. Only thrice in the history of England had a Jubilee been celebrated, and in none of these cases was there, as now, ground for unalloyed joy. But for the founding of our Parliamentary System, none would care to recall the distracted reign of Henry III. That of Edward III., glorious as it was at its beginning, was clouded with disaster at its end. That of George III. cost the dynasty, not a Crown, but a continent. On the Jubilee Day of Queen Victoria there was, however, no room for any feeling save that of gratitude and pride that, under her gentle sway, the English people had gained and not lost dominion upon earth. It was not till the head of the procession moved along, and the Royal carriages came in sight, that the pent-up feeling of the dense masses of spectators found utterance in volley after volley of cheers. The Queen’s face was tremulous with emotion, and yet there was triumph as well as grateful courtesy in her bearing as she bowed her acknowledgments to her subjects. Beside her were the Princess of Wales and the German Crown Princess, the latter beaming with happiness and delight to find that her countrymen still held her dear. The loyal tumult all along the line literally drowned the blare of bands and trumpets.
The first part of the procession consisted of carriages in which were seated the sumptuously apparelled Indian Princes, in robes of cloth of gold, and with turbans blazing with diamonds and precious gems, who had come from the far East to celebrate the Jubilee of their Empress. Following them came carriages with the Duchess of Teck, the Persian and Siamese guests of the Queen, the Queen of Hawaii, the Kings of Saxony, Belgium, and Greece, and the Austrian Crown Prince. Life Guards followed, and behind them came two mounted lacqueys of the Court. To them succeeded escorts of Hussars and Life Guards, followed by outriders in scarlet. In the first part of the procession were eleven carriages. Of these, five conveyed the Ladies-in-Waiting and the Great Officers of the Household. The sixth conveyed the Princess Victoria of Sleswig-Holstein, Princess Margaret of Prussia, and Prince Alfred of Edinburgh. In the seventh were seated the Princesses Victoria and Sophie of Prussia, Princess Louis of Battenberg, and Princess Irene of Hesse. The eighth conveyed the Princesses Maud, Victoria, and Louise of Wales. In the ninth were the Duchess of Connaught and the Duchess of Albany. In the tenth were the Duchess of Edinburgh, Princess Beatrice, Princess Louise, and Princess Christian. Between the eleventh carriage and the Queen’s rode the brilliant procession of Princes, whose appearance all along the route gave the signal for an outbreak of cheering. In the first rank rode the Queen’s grandsons—Prince Albert Victor and Prince William of Prussia being among the most conspicuous. Following them came the Queen’s sons-in-law, the German Crown Prince, Prince Christian, the Grand Duke of Hesse, and Prince Henry of Battenberg. The Marquis of Lorne had started with the procession, but his horse took fright and threw him, about 300 yards from the Palace, whereupon he returned on foot, and, borrowing a charger from an Artillery officer, rode by himself to the Abbey by Birdcage Walk. Of this group, the central figure was that of the German Crown Prince, whose white uniform and plumed silver helmet attracted general admiration. Covered with medals and decorations, most of which he had won by his prowess in battle, he sat his charger as proudly as a mediæval knight, in whom the spirit of old-world German chivalry lived again. His fair, frank face became radiant with delight, when he found that peal after peal of applause greeted him whenever he appeared. Partly owing to his picturesque figure, partly to his manly and heroic character, and partly, no doubt, to honest sympathy with his sufferings under the disease that had suddenly smitten him in the very prime of life, the German Crown Prince received an ovation more effusive even than that bestowed on the ever-popular Prince of Wales, and almost equal to that which greeted the Queen herself. After her sons-in-law came her sons, the Duke of Connaught, the Prince of Wales, and the Duke of Edinburgh. They, too, were hailed with cheering that was prolonged, and that deepened in volume till her Majesty’s carriage passed. A gorgeous cavalcade of Indians brought the splendid procession to a close. Along the route, from the Palace up Constitution Hill, round Hyde Park Corner, on through Piccadilly, down Waterloo Place, past Trafalgar Square, along Whitehall to Westminster Abbey, every house was glowing with many-tinted draperies, with bunting, and with floral decorations, and every balcony and window were crowded with bright and happy faces framed in festoons of roses and laurel.
The scene in the Abbey was impressive. Municipal dignitaries, representatives of the Universities, civic functionaries of the higher order, representatives of the Church and the Law, Lords-Lieutenant and their deputies, High Sheriffs, Officers of the Auxiliary Forces, Diplomatists, Ministers of State in Windsor uniforms, Officers of the Household, Foreign Princes and Potentates, and their suites—in fact every invited guest privileged to wear robe or uniform, contributed to the mass of varied colour that, after a time, almost tired the eye. Among the earliest arrivals were the Princess Feodore of Saxe-Meiningen, the Prince Albert, and the Princess Louise of Sleswig-Holstein, the Princess Alice of Hesse, the Princesses Mary, Victoria, and Alexandra of Edinburgh, the Princess Frederica, Baroness Pawel von Rammingen, Baron Pawel von Rammingen, Prince and Princess Edward of Saxe-Weimar, the Prince and Princess of Leiningen, Prince and Princess Victor of Hohenlohe, with the Countesses Feodora and Victoria Gleichen, and Count Edward Gleichen. Then entered the swarthy Chiefs and Princes of India, among whom the stately and resplendent Holkar was very prominent. The Queen of Hawaii followed, and after her came the Princess Victoria of Teck, and the Princes Adolphus, Francis, and Alexander of Teck, Prince Frederick of Anhalt, Prince Ernest of Saxe-Meiningen, the Duke and Duchess of Teck, the Prince of Hohenlohe-Langenberg, Prince Ludwig of Baden, Prince Philip of Saxe-Coburg, the Grand Duke of Saxe-Weimar, the Hereditary Grand Duke of Mecklenburg-Strelitz, G.C.B., Prince Ludwig of Bavaria, the Duke of Saxe Coburg-Gotha, the Infante Don Antonio of Spain, the Infanta Donna Eulalia of Spain, the Duc d’Aosta, the Crown Prince of Sweden, the Crown Prince and Princess of Portugal, the Austrian Crown Prince, the Grand Duke and Duchess of Mecklenburg-Strelitz, the King of Saxony, the King and Queen of the Belgians, Prince George of Greece, the Crown Prince of Greece, the King of Greece, and the King of Denmark.
Half-an-hour after the appointed time the silver trumpets announced the coming of the Queen’s procession, headed by the six minor and the six residentiary canons of Westminster, the Bishop of London, Archbishop of York, the Dean of Westminster,[237] the Primate, all attired in sumptuous canonicals. They were followed by heralds and other functionaries, who were followed by the members of the Royal procession walking in ranks of three, in the inverse order of precedence always enforced at Royal ceremonials. These were—