distinctness, but it
was the first time she had sung before her august mother and she was
frightened almost to death. The Queen was so delighted that some days
later, without my being told of it, she summoned to Windsor, Madame Gye,
wife of the manager of Covent Garden,--the famous singer Albani--to ask
to have _Etienne Marcel_ staged at her own theatre. The Queen's wish was
not granted.

I returned to Windsor seventeen years later, in company with Johann
Wolf, who was for many years Queen Victoria's chosen violinist. We dined
at the palace, and, if we did not enjoy the distinction of sitting at
the royal table, we were nevertheless in good company with the young
princesses, daughters of the Duke of Connaught. We were lodged at a
hotel for the honor of sleeping at the Castle was reserved for very
important personages--an honor which need not be envied, for the
sleeping apartments are really servants' rooms. But etiquette decrees
it.

Dinner was over, and princes in full uniform and princesses in elaborate
evening dress stood about, waiting for her Majesty's appearance. I was
heartbroken when I saw her enter, for she was almost carried by her
Indian servant and obviously could not walk alone. But once seated at a
small table, she was just as she had been before, with her wonderful
charm, her simple manner and her musical voice. Only her white hair bore
witness to the years that had passed. She asked me about _Henri VIII_,
which was being given for the second time at Covent Garden, and I
explained to her that in my desire to give the piece the local color of
its times I had been ferreting about in the royal library at Buckingham
Palace, to which my friend, the librarian, had given me access. And I
also told how I had found in a great collection of manuscripts of the
Sixteenth Century an exquisitely fine theme arranged for the
harpsichord, which served as the framework for the opera--I used it
later for the march I wrote for the coronation of King Edward. The Queen
was much interested in music in general and she appeared to be
especially pleased in this discussion. His Highness the Duke of
Connaught wrote me that she had spoken of it several times.

The musical library at Buckingham Palace is most remarkable and it is a
pity that access to it is not easier. Among other things, there are the
manuscripts of Handel's oratorios, written for the most part with
disconcerting rapidity. His _Messiah_ was composed in fifteen day