[114] Lord Suffolk’s despatch to De Laval, St. James’s, June 9, 1775.
THE MEMORIAL ERECTED TO QUEEN MATILDA IN THE FRENCH GARDEN OF CELLE.
It was only in little Celle, among the people who had known and loved her the last years of her brief life, that the memory of Matilda was treasured and held sacred. Soon after the funeral a public meeting was held at Celle and attended by the principal burgesses of the town and the leading noblemen of the principality of Lüneburg, and after resolutions had been passed lamenting her death, it was resolved to petition George III. for permission to erect a monument to her memory. In this petition it was stated: “Our only object is to raise a lasting proof of the general affection and respect with which we regarded the great and noble qualities of her Majesty Queen Matilda, and, by a permanent memorial of the grief for her death felt by all true subjects of your Majesty, to give an opportunity to our remotest descendants to cherish with silent respect the memory of the best and most amiable of queens.” The petition was graciously received by George III., and he willingly granted his permission.
A monument of grey marble was sculptured by Professor Oeser of Leipzig, and erected in the French garden of Celle—the garden of which she had been so fond—and stands to this day. A medallion of the Queen, as she appeared in the last year of her life, is carved upon an urn, which is upborne by allegorical figures of truth, maternal love, charity and mercy—the virtues by which the Queen was pre-eminently known; and an inscription runs round the pedestal setting forth her name and titles and the dates of her birth and death. This handsome monument stands out in bold relief against a background of sycamores, and looks across the trim gardens to an avenue of ancient limes—the very trees, maybe, under which Queen Matilda paced with Wraxall a few months before her death.
I saw it first on a June evening five years ago. At the base of the monument blue forget-me-nots were planted, and red and white roses clambered up the low railing around it—a touching testimony to the fact that the Queen is not yet forgotten in Celle, and the memory of her good deeds is still living in the hearts of the people.