pushed aside and not settled,
and who were the principal actors in the negotiations. With that
data we often arrive at a satisfactory settlement."
I remember one garden-party at Buckingham Palace. The day was
perfect and the attendance phenomenally large and distinguished.
While there were places on the grounds where a luncheon was served,
the guests neglected these places and gathered about a large tent
where the royalties had their refreshments. It was an intense
curiosity, not so much to see their sovereign eat and drink, as
to improve the opportunity to reverently gaze upon her at close
range. The queen called various people whom she knew from this
circle of onlookers for a familiar talk.
When the luncheon was served the attendant produced an immense
napkin, which she spread over herself, almost from her neck to
the bottom of her dress. A charming English lady, who stood beside
me, said: "I know you are laughing at the economy of our Queen."
"On the contrary," I said, "I am admiring an example of carefulness
and thrift which, if it could be universally known, would be of
as great benefit in the United States as in Great Britain."
"Well," she continued, "I do wish that the dear old lady was not
quite so careful."
At a period when the lives of the continental rulers were in great
peril from revolutionists and assassins, the queen on both her
fiftieth anniversary and her jubilee rode in an open carriage
through many miles of London streets, with millions of spectators
on either side pressing closely upon the procession, and there was
never a thought that she was in the slightest danger. She was
fearless herself, but she had on the triple armor of the overmastering
love and veneration of the whole people. Americans remembered
that in the crisis of our Civil War it was the influence of the
queen, more than any other, which prevented Great Britain
recognizing the Southern Confederacy.
Among the incidents of her jubilee was the greatest naval
demonstration ever known. The fleets of Great Britain were summoned
from all parts of the globe and anchored in a long and imposing
line in the English Channel. Mr. Ismay, at that time the head
of the White Star Line, took the Teutonic, which had just been
built and was not yet in regular commission, as his private yacht.
He had on board a notable company, representing the best, both
of men and women, of English life. He was the most generous of
hosts, and e
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