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THE ILLUSTRATED LONDON NEWS.
LONDON: SATURDAY, DECEMBER 21, 1878.
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The Country is in mourning — The Country mourns. How great a difference there may be between the two states — the outward and the inward — need not be pointed out. There is no difference in the present instance. The "trappings of woe" correspond but too closely with the sorrow of the heart. Princess Alice of Great Britain and Ireland, the Grand Duchess of Hesse-Darmstadt, the second daughter of Queen Victoria, has been removed from the present life by the terrible malady which had, a few days before, carried off her youngest daughter and which had put in sore peril the lives of her husband and the rest of her children. The lamentable event occurred on the anniversary of her father's death, seventeen years ago. It brings with it touching reminiscences which will now be closely associated with the memory of her life. How she nursed the Prince Consort in his mortal illness, how the tenderness and self-sacrificing devotion of her love smoothed his passage from this world to the next, how she upheld her Royal Mother under the fresh burden of her widowhood, how ten years afterwards she nursed her brother the Prince of Wales, and was happily rewarded by the restoration of his health, we all know. And now she has herself fallen a victim to the very virtues which commended her to our hearts. There is a pathos in the incident mentioned by Lord Beaconsfield in the House of Lords on Tuesday last which is simply irresistible. "The physicians," he said, "who permitted her to watch over her suffering family enjoined her under no circumstances whatever to be tempted into an embrace. Her admirable self-restraint guarded her through the crisis of this terrible complaint in safety. She remembered and observed the injunctions of her physicians. But it became her lot to break to her son, quite a youth, the death of his youngest sister, to whom he was devotedly attached. The boy was so overcome with misery that the agitated mother clasped him in her arms, and thus received the kiss of death." Her illness was watched with painful anxiety, not in her adopted country only, but in that of her early home. Medical science, however, was unable to stay the progress of her disease. The conflict is over. Death has gathered into his arms all that was mortal of the Royal Princess, and the Court and the people of this country share between them the sorrow which arises from the irreparable loss occasioned by her decease.
Yet not a loss only, or wholly, nor a gloom entirely unrelieved. The dark cloud has its "silver lining." Even what we see on this side of the grave, distressful as it is to many, grievous to all, is yet spanned by a bow of promise. The life of Princess Alice is even now far from having worked out its beautiful results. It was a life of blessing to all who came within its sphere, and of potent influence for good to those who were outside of it. Her exalted position was but the accident which displayed it more vividly and more widely than would otherwise have been the case. Its genuine lustre was in itself. It would have been charming anywhere, in any rank, in association with any circumstances, but it was rendered more conspicuous in that it was lifted up on high. We need not speak in a depreciating tone of the external grandeur — albeit grandeur in simplicity — the centre of which she so exquisitely adorned. They who were nearest to her either by the ties of relationship or by the privilege of personal intercourse, speak admiringly of her intellectual culture, her solid judgment, her brilliant vivacity. We can believe them. But that which most attracts and fixes the regard of most men was the tender and ever outflowing sympathy which she had for all kinds of human suffering. An ornament to her Court, a bright and sparkling gem in her family, diffusing gladness wherever she vouchsafed her presence, she was always ready, in the alleviation of sorrow, to take the post demanding the greatest self-denial and to meet the troubles from which she might have been excused had she shrunk from them. "So good, so kind, so clever," says the Prince of Wales, in a letter written on the day of her death — words of simple testimony to her worth which find an echo in the bosom of every subject in the realm. She was a feminine exposition of the spirit of "Albert the Good," and her death brings back to us in full flush the grateful remembrances we have of his life.
The blow, as might have been expected, has been a heavy one for the Queen. The day on which it occurred necessarily reopened the deep wound made upon her domestic happiness, never perhaps to be completely healed, by the death of the Prince Consort. Her people rejoice in the assurance that her Majesty's usual health has not shown any indications of giving way under the stroke. They are thankful that she had an opportunity, as late ago as last autumn, of seeing and exchanging embraces with her beloved daughter. They are fully sensible that it is out of their power to offer her such consolation as will reach to the depth of her affliction. They are willing to bear her grief, if that were possible; but, that not being so, they are anxious to share it. They well know that they owe much to her, but they know not how much. They looked on with admiring and even affectionate sympathy whilst she was engaged in training her children for the high positions which they occupy. They cannot see her in domestic trouble without yearning to give her such solace as their unanimous participation in her grief may help to afford. The light which the light of Princess Alice casts forward, as a glorious example upon their several households, beams also in its reflex radiance upon the family life and maternal influences of their beloved Sovereign. They owe to her an untold sum of thankfulness, and they cannot allow her daughter to pass away from earth without becoming increasingly sensible of the debt of obligation under which the mother in her child has laid them. With more fervency than ever they will now repeat the refrain of the National Anthem, "God Save the Queen."
The lesson of the late Princess's life is as noble as it is obvious. Moral worth is a far more felicitous distinction than high position. It is well when both are combined, as in her case; but the first claims our reverential homage even when quite apart from the last. The women of society are not the only persons who may profit from what they have been called within the last week to witness. Love is the surest parent of love. To be lovely is the best forerunner of lovely action. Influence, honour, and unfailing satisfaction are to be acquired, not so much by the triumphs of ambition as by the quiet discharge of daily duties, and by the unostentatious but continuous outflow of a loving heart. In this respect to give is to receive, to bless is to be blessed, and in the words of Holy Writ, to lose life is to find it.
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THE DEATH OF PRINCESS ALICE.
The whole English nation, and, we believe, the German nation also, have since last Saturday joined with our Queen and the Royal family, and with the bereaved husband and children at Hesse-Darmstadt, in heartfelt mourning for the untimely death of this illustrious lady. Her Royal Highness was, to quote the touching words of her brother, the Prince of Wales, in letter which Earl Granville read on Tuesday evening to the House of Lords, "so good, so kind, so clever!" As daughter, sister, wife, and mother, she had ever shown the characteristic virtues of womanhood; and she had laboured, both in England and in Germany, with a "thoughtful beneficence," to relieve the sufferings of the sick poor in hospitals, of wounded soldiers, and prisoners of war, at the same time cultivating every pursuit of refined intelligence and taste, and the graceful accomplishments befitting her exalted rank. The dates and other details of her personal history will be found set forth in the usual form of an Obituary Notice. Our leading article this week is naturally devoted to this topic, which has, more than all other contemporary affairs, occupied the public mind; while the votes of condolence in both Houses of Parliament, with the appropriate speeches of Lord Beaconsfield and Lord Granville, in the one instance, of Sir Stafford Northcote and Lord Hartington in the other, are recorded as an authoritative testimony of national regret, and of profound sympathy with the Royal Mother, for whom we have never ceased, these seventeen years past, to feel the reverential tenderness due to a Royal Widow.
Her Royal Highness died a little before eight o'clock in the morning last Saturday, in the Grand Ducal Palace at Darmstadt, her state the day before having been such as to give rise to the greatest alarm with increased fever and the swelling having extended to the windpipe or larynx. She had been ill since just after the death of her youngest child, Princess Maria Victoria, a little girl of four years, who had, with others of the family, been attacked by diphtheria. Upon the death of her little one the affectionate mother herself went to the bedside of her son, Prince Ernest, who is ten years of age, and who was suffering from the same disease. It appears to have been upon the occasion of this sorrowful interview, and by a kiss from the poor innocent boy, which his mother could not refuse at such a moment, that the germs of the terrible malady were conveyed to her system.
The sad intelligence was received at Windsor Castle on Saturday morning. The Queen had received previous telegrams from Sir William Jenner to explain to her Majesty the significance of the symptoms observed.
Immediately on the event becoming known in London the Home Secretary wrote to the Lord Mayor communicating the fact, and requesting him to give directions for the tolling of the great bell of St. Paul's Cathedral. His Lordship also read the letter from his seat in the Justice Room of the Mansion House, and a copy was posted outside the building.
On Sunday morning and evening, in their pulpit discourses, particular allusions to the mournful event were made by Canon Liddon, at St. Paul's; by Canon Prothero, at Westminster Abbey; by the Rev. H. White, at the Chapel Royal, Savoy; by Canon Spencer, at the Temple Church; by Canon Farrar, at St. Margaret's, Westminster; by the Bishop of Columbia, at St. Stephen's, Westminster; and at most other churches and chapels in the metropolis and throughout the country.
At Darmstadt, on Tuesday, the funeral solemnities in connection with the burial of Princess Alice commenced. The body was removed from the Grand Ducal Palace to the church within the old castle, where the religious ceremony was to take place next day. The hearse was preceded by a half-squadron of Dragoons and a number of Court officials, and was followed by the Royal carriages and another half-squadron of Dragoons. The torches were carried on either side of the hearse by six servants, and some non-commissioned officers of the Guard made up two lines of escort. There had been a heavy fall of snow during the day, but the night was almost cloudless. The whole of the route to the church was lined with spectators, who respectfully uncovered as the procession passed. The Princess was well known to the inhabitants of Darmstadt, not only through frequently being seen in the town with her husband, but by reason of the personal interest which she took in the local charities and other institutions. The procession having arrived at the church, the coffin, covered with a crimson pall, was placed on a black velvet catafalque, bearing the Grand Ducal crown and the arms and orders of the Princess, and throughout the night was attended by a guard of honour. Between nine o'clock and noon on Wednesday the church was open to the public, and during that time some thousands of persons passed reverently by the coffin. By two o'clock, the hour fixed for the reading of the burial service, the edifice was filled with the nobility, members of the diplomatic corps, the Ministry, military officers, Privy Councillors, members of the two Chambers, the Mayors of Darmstadt and other towns, the municipal councillors, the President of the National Synod, and a deputation of the clergy, officials of the palace, representatives of Ministerial departments, and deputations from various regiments. The right side of the altar was occupied by members of the Women's Union for Nursing Sick and Wounded in War, founded by the Grand Duchess and bearing her name; on the left were ranged ladies who had been presented at Court. Everything being in readiness for the service, the mourners — the Grand Duke of Hesse, the Prince of Wales, Prince Leopold, Prince Christian of Holstein, and the Grand Dukes of Mecklenburg and Baden among others — entered the church, and were conducted to their places with the ceremonies usually observed on such occasions. The Crown Prince and Princess of Germany were not present, the Emperor William having, after a consultation with his physicians, declined to permit them to attend the funeral on account of the risk of infection. In their absence the Imperial family were represented by General Goltz, Colonel Panwitz, Count Matuschka, and Count Seckendorff. M. de Quaade was in attendance for the King of Denmark, General Burnell for the King of the Belgians, and Baron von Perglas and Count Durkheim for the King and Queen Dowager of Bavaria. The Burial Service, to which some anthems and chorales were added, was performed by Assistant Chaplain Grein, one of the Ducal chaplains, and the Rev. Mr. Sillitoe, the resident English clergyman. The coffin was then removed from the catafalque to a hearse drawn by eight horses, and the sad procession passed to Rosenhohe by way of the Market-place, the parade-ground, the Alexanderstrasse, the Muehlstrasse, and the Erbachsterstrasse. The route was densely lined with spectators, and the utmost order prevailed.
During the funeral ceremony at Darmstadt and Rosenhohe a solemn service was held at Windsor Castle.
From all parts of the country we have reports of resolutions of condolence carried by Town Councils and other bodies. Minute guns were fired on Wednesday at Woolwich, Chatham, Portsmouth, and Devonport, and the flags of her Majesty's and other ships were flown half-mast high.
We present on the front page of this week's Number the portraits of the lamented Princess Alice and her youngest child, both so lately taken from their afflicted family; and our Extra Supplement consists of a separate Portrait of her Royal Highness, for which, as well as for the subject of our front-page Engraving, we are indebted to a photograph by Mr. Alexander Bassano, of Piccadilly.
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