The Royal And Diamond Jubilees Of Queen Victoria


In the year 1887 came a great occasion in the life of England's queen,

that of the fiftieth anniversary of her reign, a year of holiday and

festivity that extended to all quarters of the world, for the broad

girdle of British dominion had during her reign extended to embrace the

globe. India led the way, the rejoicing over the royal jubilee of its

empress extending throughout its vast area, from the snowy passes of the

Himalayas on the north to the tropic shores of Cape Comorin on the

south. Other colonies joined in the festivities, the loyal Canadians

vieing with the free-hearted Australians, the semi-bronzed Africanders

and the planters of the West Indies, in the celebration of the joyous

anniversary year.



In the history of England there have been only four such jubilees, the

earlier ones being those of Henry III., Edward III., and George III. It

is a curious coincidence that of these three sovereigns preceding

Victoria whose reigns extended over fifty years, each of them was the

third of his name. Victoria broke the rule in this as well as in the

breadth and splendor of the jubilee display and rejoicings. To show this

a few lines must be devoted to these earlier occasions.



The reign of Henry III. was memorable as being that in which trial by

jury was introduced and the first real English Parliament, that summoned

by Simon de Montfort, Earl of Leicester, was held. It was this that

gives eclat to the jubilee year, 1265, for it was in that year that the

first Parliament convened. Yet sorrow rather than rejoicing marked the

year, for the horrors of civil war rent the land and the bloody battle

of Evesham saddened all loyal souls.



The jubilee of Edward III. came in 1376, when that monarch entered the

fiftieth year of his reign. This was a year fitted for rejoicing, for

the age was one of glory and prosperity. The horrors of the "black

death," which had swept the land some twenty years before, were

forgotten and men were in a happy mood. We read of tournaments,

processions, feasts and pageantry in which all the people participated.

Yet sorrow came before the year ended, for the death of the "Black

Prince," the most brilliant hero of chivalry, was sorely mourned by his

father, the king, and by the subjects of the realm, while the rising

clouds of civil war threw a gloom on the end of the jubilee year, as

they had on that of Henry.



More than four centuries elapsed before another jubilee year arrived,

that of George III., the fiftieth year of whose reign came in 1810. It

was a year of festivities that spread widely over the land, the people

entering into it with all the Anglo-Saxon love of holiday. In addition

to the grand state banquets, splendid balls, showy reviews and general

illuminations, there were open-air feasts free to all, at which bullocks

were roasted whole, while army and navy deserters were pardoned,

prisoners of war set free, and a great subscription was made for the

release from prison of poor debtors.



Yet there was little in the character of the king or the state of the

country to justify these festivities. England was then in the throes of

its struggle with Napoleon; the king had lost his reason, the Prince of

Wales acting as regent; the only reason for rejoicing was that the

inglorious career of George III. seemed nearing its end. Yet he survived

for ten years more, not dying until 1820, and surpassing all

predecessors in the length of his reign.



When, in the year 1887, Queen Victoria reached the fiftieth year of her

reign, there were none of these causes for sorrow in her realm. England

was in the height of prosperity, free from the results of blighting

pestilence, disastrous wars, desolating famine, or any of the horrors

that steep great nations in heart-breaking sorrow. The empire was

immense in extent, prosperous in all its parts, and the queen was

beloved throughout her wide dominions as no monarch of England had ever

been before. Thus it was a year in which the people could rejoice

without a shadow to darken their joy and with warm love for their queen

to make their hilarity a real instead of a simulated one.



It was in far-off India, of which Victoria had been proclaimed empress

ten years before, that the first note of rejoicing was heard. The 16th

of February was selected as the date of the imperial festival, which was

celebrated all over the land, even in Mandalay, the capital of the

newly-conquered state of Upper Burmah. Europeans and natives alike took

part in the ceremonies and rejoicings, which embraced banquets, plays,

reviews, illuminations, the distribution of honors, the opening in honor

of the empress of libraries, colleges and hospitals, and at Gwalior the

cancelling of the arrears of the land-tax amounting to five million

dollars.



The fiftieth year of the queen's reign would be completed on the 20th of

June, but in the preceding months of the year many preliminary

ceremonies took place in England. Among these was a splendid reception

of the queen at Birmingham, which city she visited on the 23d of March.

The streets were richly decorated with flags, festoons, triumphal

arches, banks of flowers, and trophies illustrating the industries of

that metropolis of manufacture, while the streets were thronged with

half a million of rejoicing people. A striking feature of the occasion

was a semi-circle of fifteen thousand school-children, a mile long, the

teachers standing behind each school-group, and a continuous strain of

"God Save the Queen" hailing the royal progress along the line.



On the 4th of May the queen received at Windsor Castle the

representatives of the colonial governments, whose addresses showed that

during her reign the colonial subjects of the empire had increased from

less than 2,000,000 to more than 9,000,000 souls, the Indian subjects

from 96,000,000 to 254,000,000, and those of minor dependencies from

2,000,000 to 7,000,000.



There were various other incidents connected with the Jubilee during

May, one being a visit of the queen to the American "Wild West Show,"

and another the opening of the "People's Palace" at Whitechapel, in

which fifteen thousand troops were ranged along seven miles of

splendidly decorated streets, while the testimony of the people to their

affection for their queen was as enthusiastic as it had been at

Birmingham. Day after day other ceremonial occasions arrived, including

banquets, balls, assemblies and public festivities of many kinds, from

the feeding of four thousand of the poor at Glasgow to a yacht race

around the British Islands.



The great Jubilee celebration, however, was reserved for the 21st of

June, the chief streets of London being given over to a host of

decorators, who transformed them into a glowing bower of beauty. The

route set aside for the imposing procession was one long array of

brilliant color and shifting brightness almost impossible to describe

and surpassing all former festive demonstrations.



The line of the royal procession extended from Buckingham Palace to

Westminster Abbey, along which route windows and seats had been secured

at fabulous prices, while the throng of sightseers that densely crowded

the streets was in the best of good humor.



As the procession moved slowly along from Buckingham Palace a strange

silence fell upon the gossipping crowd as they awaited the coming of the

aged queen, on her way to the old Abbey to celebrate in state the

fiftieth year of her reign. When the head of the procession moved onward

and the royal carriages came within sight, the awed feeling that had

prevailed was followed by one of tumultuous enthusiasm, volley after

volley of cheers rending the air as the carriage bearing the royal lady

passed between the two dense lines of loyal spectators.



With a face tremulous with emotion the queen bowed from side to side in

grateful courtesy to her acclaiming subjects, as did her companions, the

Princess of Wales and the German Crown Princess, who had returned to her

native land to take part in its holiday of patriotism.



Six cream-colored horses drew the stately carriage in which the royal

party rode, the Duke of Cambridge and an escort accompanying it, while a

body-guard of princes followed, the Prince of Wales being mounted on a

golden chestnut horse and sharing with his mother the cheers of the

throng. Preceding this escort and the queen's carriage was a series of

carriages in which were seated the sumptuously appareled Indian princes,

clothed in cloth of gold and wearing turbans glittering with diamonds

and other precious gems. Prominent in the group of mounted princes was

the German Crown Prince Frederick, who succeeded to the throne as

Emperor Frederick III. in the following March and died in the following

June, in less than a year from his appearance in the Jubilee. But there

was no presage of his quick-coming death in his present appearance, his

white uniform and plumed silver helmet attracting general admiration,

while he sat his horse as proudly as a knight of old and was covered

with medals and decorations significant of his prowess in battle. A

gorgeous cavalcade of natives of India completed the procession, than

which none of greater brilliance had ever been seen in London streets.



In the Abbey were gathered from nine to ten thousand spectators, of the

noblest families of the land, and dressed in their most effective

attire, while the lights brought out the glitter of thousands of

gleaming gems. The queen herself, while dressed in rich black, wore a

bonnet of white Spanish lace that glittered with diamonds.






As she entered the Abbey the organ pealed forth the strains of a

triumphal march. There followed a Jubilee Thanksgiving Service, brief

and simple, and special prayers by the Archbishop of Canterbury. As a

finale to the impressive scene the queen, moved to deep emotion,

embraced with warm affection the princes and princesses of her house,

and, with a deep bow to her foreign guests, withdrew from the scene, to

return to the palace over the same route and through similar

demonstrations of enthusiastic loyalty.



All over England and Ireland and in the colonies the day was celebrated

by joyous celebrations, and in foreign lands, especially in the United

States, the British residents fittingly honored the festive occasion.



On the following day, in Hyde Park, London, the queen drove in state

down a long and happy line of twenty-seven thousand school-children, who

had been made happy by a banquet and various amusements, besides being

given a multitude of toys. The special feature of the occasion was the

presentation by the queen of a specially manufactured jubilee-ring,

which she gave with a kind speech to a very happy twelve-year-old girl

who had attended school for several years without missing a session.



There was also a review of fifty-six thousand volunteers at Aldershot, a

grand review of one hundred and thirty-five warships at Spithead, and

other ceremonies, one of the chief of which was the laying by the queen,

on the 4th of July, of the foundation stone of the Imperial Institute in

the Albert Hall, this Institute being intended to stand as a sign of the

essential unity of the British Empire.



The well-loved queen of the British nation was to live to celebrate in

health and strength another jubilee year, that of the sixtieth

anniversary of her reign, a distinction in which she stands alone in

the history of the island kingdom. George III., who came nearest, died a

few months before the completion of his sixty years' period. Had he

lived to fulfil it there would have been no celebration, for he had

become a broken wreck, blind and hopelessly insane, a man who lived

despised and died unmourned.



But Victoria, though nearly eighty years of age, had still several years

to live and was fully capable of performing the duties of her position.

No monarch of England had reigned so long, none had enjoyed to so great

an extent the love and respect of the people, in no previous reign had

there been an equal progress in all that conduces to happiness and

prosperity, in none had the dominion of the throne of Great Britain so

widely extended, and it was felt for many reasons desirable to make the

Diamond Jubilee, as it was termed, the occasion for the most magnificent

demonstration that either England or the world had ever yet seen.



In all its features the observance lasted a month. It was not confined

to the British Isles, but extended to the dominions of the queen

throughout the world, in all of which some form of festive celebration

took place. But the chief and great event of the occasion was the

unrivalled procession in London on the 22d of June, 1897, an affair in

which all the world took part, not only representatives of the

wide-sweeping possessions of the British crown, but dignitaries from

most of the other nations of the world being present to add grandeur

and completeness to the splendid display.



To describe it in full would need far more space than we have at

command, and we must confine ourselves to its salient features. It began

at midnight of the 21st, at which hour, under a clear, star-lit sky, the

streets were already thronged with people in patient waiting and the

bells of all London in tumultuous peal announced the advent of the

jubilee day, while from the vast throng ringing cheers and the singing

of "God Save the Queen" hailed the happy occasion.



When the new day dawned and the auspicious sunlight brightened the

scene, the streets devoted to the procession, more than six miles in

length, appeared one vast blaze of color and display of decorations, the

jubilee colors, red, white and blue, being everywhere seen, while the

medley of wreaths, festoons, banners, colored globes and balloons,

pennons, shields, fir and laurel evergreens, and other emblems of

festivity, were innumerable and bewildering in their variety.



The march began at 9.45, and came as a welcome relief to the vast throng

that for hours had been wearily waiting. Its first contingent was the

colonial military procession, in which representatives of the whole

world seemed present in distinctive attire. It was a moving picture of

soldiers from every continent and many of the great isles of the sea,

massed in a complex and extraordinary display.



Chief in command, following a squadron of the Royal Horse Guards, rode

Lord Roberts, the famed and popular general, who was hailed with an

uproar of shouts of "Hurrah for Bobs!" Close behind him came a troop of

the Canadian Hussars and the Northwest mounted police, escorting Sir

Wilfred Laurier, the premier of Canada. Premier Reid, of New South

Wales, followed, escorted by the New South Wales Lancers and the Mounted

Rifles, with their gray sombreros and black cocks' plumes.



In rapid succession, escorting the premiers of the several colonies,

came other contingents of troops, each wearing some distinctive uniform,

including those of Victoria, New Zealand, Queensland, Cape Colony, South

Australia, Newfoundland, Tasmania, Natal and West Australia. Then came

mounted troops from many other localities of the British empire,

reaching from Hong Kong in the East to Jamaica in the West, and fairly

girdling the globe in their wide variety.



Among the oddities of this complex multitude we may name the Zaptiehs

from Cyprus, wearing the Turkish fez and bonnet; the olive-faced Borneo

Dyaks; the Chinese police from Hong Kong, with saucepan-like hats

shading their yellow faces; the Royal Niger Hausses, with their shaved

heads and shining black skins; and other picturesquely attired examples

of the men of varied climes.



Such was the colonial parade, a marvellous display from the "far-thrown"

British realm. It was followed by the home military parade, which

formed a carnival of gorgeous costume and color; scarlet and blue, gold,

white and yellow; shining cuirasses and polished helmets, waving plumes

and glittering tassels; splendid trappings for horses and more splendid

ones for men; horse and foot and batteries of artillery; death-dealing

weapons of every kind; all marching to the stirring music of richly

accoutred bands and under treasured banners for which the men in the

ranks were ready to die.



Led by Captain Ames, the tallest man in the British army, followed by

four of the tallest troopers of the Life Guards,--a regiment of very

tall men--the soldierly procession, as it wound onward under the

propitious sun, seemed like nothing so much as some bright stream of

burnished gold flowing between dark banks of human beings.



The colonial and military parade having passed, there followed that part

of the display to which all this was preliminary, the royal procession,

in which her Majesty the Queen was once more to show her venerable form

to her assembled people. Preceding the gorgeous chariot of the queen,

with its famous eight cream-colored Hanoverian horses, appeared its

military escort, a glittering cavalcade of splendidly uniformed

officers, its chief figures being Lord Wolseley, Commander-in-chief of

the Army, the Prince of Wales, the Duke of Cambridge, the Duke of

Connaught, the Duke of Westminster, and the Lord Lieutenant of London.



In the escort were also included foreign military and naval dignitaries,

in alphabetical order, beginning with Austria and ending with the United

States, the latter represented by General Nelson A. Miles, in full

uniform and riding a splendid horse. The whole was bewildering in its

variety. From Germany came a deputation of the First Prussian Dragoon

Guards, splendid looking soldiers, sent as a special compliment from the

Kaiser. But most brilliant of all was a group of officers of the

Imperial Service Troops of India, in the most gorgeous of uniforms.

Behind these came in two-horse landaus the special envoys from the

various American and European nations.



The escort of princes included the Marquis of Lorne, son-in-law of the

queen, the Duke of York, the Duke of Fife, and among notable foreign

princes, the Grand Duke Servius of Russia, the Crown Prince Dando of

Montenegro, and Mohammed Ali Khan, brother of the Khedive of Egypt, who

rode a pure white Arabian charger.



The hour of eleven had passed when Queen Victoria descended the steps of

the palace and entered the awaiting carriage, each of whose horses was

led by a "walking man" in the royal livery and a huntsman's black-velvet

cap, while the postilions were dressed in scarlet and gold coats, white

trousers and riding boots, each livery having cost $600.



Through miles of wildly enthusiastic people the carriage wound, the

chief feature of its progress being the formal crossing of the boundary

of ancient London at Temple Bar, where the old ceremony of the

submission of the city to the sovereign was performed, the Lord Mayor

presenting the hilt of the city sword--"Queen Elizabeth's pearl

sword,"--presented by the queen to the corporation during a ceremony in

1570. The touching of the hilt by the queen, in acceptance of

submission, completed this ceremony, and the carriage rolled on to St.

Paul's Cathedral, where a brief service was performed.



The next stop was at the Mansion House, where the Lord Mayor presented

the Lord Mayoress and the attendant maids of honor handed the queen a

beautiful silver basket filled with gorgeous orchids. The palace was

finally reached at 1.45, when a gun in Hyde Park announced that the

procession was over, and the great event had passed into history. An

outburst of cheers followed this final salute and the vast throng,

millions in number, broke and vanished, carrying to their homes vivid

memories of the most brilliant affair the great metropolis of London had

ever seen.



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