shoulders of Albert as he lay dead, surmounted by a
wreath of immortelles. At
Balmoral, where memories came crowding so closely, the solid signs of memory
appeared in
surprising profusion. Obelisks, pyramids, tombs,
statues, cairns,
and seats of inscribed
granite, proclaimed Victoria's dedication to the dead.
There, twice a year, on the days that followed her
arrival, a solemn
pilgrimage of
inspection and
meditation was performed. There, on August
26--Albert's birthday--at the foot of the
bronzestatue of him in Highland
dress, the Queen, her family, her Court, her servants, and her tenantry, met
together and in silence drank to the memory of the dead. In England the tokens
of
remembrance pullulated hardly less. Not a day passed without some addition
to the multifold assemblage--a gold
statuette of Ross, the piper--a life-sized
marble group of Victoria and Albert, in
medievalcostume, inscribed upon the
base with the words: "Allured to brighter worlds and led the way-" a
graniteslab in the shrubbery at Osborne, informing the
visitor of "Waldmann: the very
favourite little dachshund of Queen Victoria; who brought him from Baden,
April 1872; died, July 11, 1881."
At Frogmore, the great mausoleum, perpetually enriched, was visited almost
daily by the Queen when the Court was at Windsor. But there was another, a
more secret and a hardly less holy
shrine. The suite of rooms which Albert had
occupied in the Castle was kept for ever shut away from the eyes of any save
the most
privileged. Within those precincts everything remained as it had been
at the Prince's death; but the
mysterious preoccupation of Victoria had
commanded that her husband's clothing should be laid afresh, each evening,
upon the bed, and that, each evening, the water should be set ready in the
basin, as if he were still alive; and this
incredible rite was performed with
scrupulous regularity for nearly forty years.
Such was the inner
worship; and still the flesh obeyed the spirit; still the
daily hours of labour proclaimed Victoria's
consecration to duty and to the
ideal of the dead. Yet, with the years, the sense of self-sacrifice faded; the
natural energies of that
ardent being discharged themselves with satisfaction
into the
channel of public work; the love of business which, from her
girlhood, had been strong within her, reasserted itself in all its vigour,
and, in her old age, to have been cut off from her papers and her boxes would
have been, not a
relief, but an agony to Victoria. Thus, though toiling
Ministers might sigh and suffer, the whole process of government continued,
till the very end, to pass before her. Nor was that all; ancient
precedent had
made the validity of an
enormous number of official transactions dependent
upon the
application of the royal sign-manual; and a great
proportion of the
Queen's
working hours was spent in this
mechanical task. Nor did she show any
desire to
diminish it. On the
contrary, she voluntarily resumed the duty of
signing commissions in the army, from which she had been set free by Act of
Parliament, and from which, during the years of middle life, she had
abstained. In no case would she
countenance the proposal that she should use a
stamp. But, at last, when the increasing
pressure of business made the delays
of the antiquated
systemintolerable, she consented that, for certain classes
of documents, her oral
sanction should be sufficient. Each paper was read
aloud to her, and she said at the end "Approved." Often, for hours at a time,
she would sit, with Albert's bust in front of her, while the word "Approved"
issued at intervals from her lips. The word came forth with a majestic
sonority; for her voice now--how changed from the
silverytreble of her
girlhood--was a contralto, full and strong.
IV
The final years were years of apotheosis. In the dazzled
imagination of her
subjects Victoria soared aloft towards the regions of
divinity through a
nimbus of purest glory. Criticism fell dumb; deficiencies which, twenty years
earlier, would have been
universally admitted, were now as
universallyignored. That the nation's idol was a very
incomplete representative of the
nation was a circumstance that was hardly noticed, and yet it was
conspicuously true. For the vast changes which, out of the England of 1837,
had produced the England of 1897, seemed scarcely to have touched the Queen.
The
immenseindustrial development of the period, the
significance of which
had been so
thoroughly understood by Albert, meant little indeed to Victoria.
The
amazingscientificmovement, which Albert had appreciated no less, left
Victoria
perfectly cold. Her
conception of the
universe, and of man's place in
it, and of the
stupendous problems of nature and
philosophy remained,
throughout her life, entirely
unchanged. Her religion was the religion which
she had
learnt from the Baroness Lehzen and the Duchess of Kent. Here, too, it
might have been
supposed that Albert's views might have influenced her. For
Albert, in matters of religion, was
advanced. Disbelieving
altogether in evil
spirits, he had had his doubts about the
miracle of the Gaderene Swine.
Stockmar, even, had thrown out, in a
remarkablememorandum on the education of
the Prince of Wales, the
suggestion that while the child "must unquestionably
be brought up in the creed of the Church of England," it might
nevertheless be
in
accordance with the spirit of the times to
exclude from his religious
training the inculcation of a
belief in "the supernatural doctrines of
Christianity." This, however, would have been going too far; and all the royal
children were brought up in complete
orthodoxy. Anything else would have
grieved Victoria, though her own
conceptions of the
orthodox were not very
precise. But her nature, in which
imagination and
subtlety held so small a
place, made her
instinctively" target="_blank" title="ad.本能地">
instinctivelyrecoil from the
intricate ecstasies of High
Anglicanism; and she seemed to feel most at home in the simple faith of the
Presbyterian Church of Scotland. This was what might have been expected; for
Lehzen was the daughter of a Lutheran
pastor, and the Lutherans and the
Presbyterians have much in common. For many years Dr. Norman Macleod, an
innocent Scotch
minister, was her
principalspiritualadviser; and, when he
was taken from her, she drew much comfort from quiet chats about life and
death with the cottagers at Balmoral. Her piety,
absolutelygenuine, found
what it wanted in the sober exhortations of old John Grant and the
devout saws
of Mrs. P. Farquharson. They possessed the qualities, which, as a child of
fourteen, she had so
sincerely admired in the Bishop of Chester's "Exposition
of the Gospel of St. Matthew;" they were "just plain and comprehensible and
full of truth and good feeling." The Queen, who gave her name to the Age of
Mill and of Darwin, never got any further than that.
From the social
movements of her time Victoria was
equallyremote. Towards the
smallest no less than towards the greatest changes she remained inflexible.
During her youth and middle age smoking had been
forbidden in
polite society,
and so long as she lived she would not
withdraw her anathema against it. Kings
might protest;
bishops and ambassadors, invited to Windsor, might be reduced,
in the
privacy of their bedrooms, to lie full-length upon the floor and smoke
up the chimney--the interdict continued! It might have been
supposed that a
female
sovereign would have lent her
countenance to one of the most vital of
all the reforms to which her epoch gave birth--the
emancipation of women--but,
on the
contrary, the mere mention of such a proposal sent the blood rushing to
her head. In 1870, her eye having fallen upon the report of a meeting in
favour of Women's Suffrage, she wrote to Mr. Martin in royal rage--"The Queen
is most
anxious to
enlisteveryone who can speak or write to join in checking