The death of her dearly loved eldest son-in-law in 1888 was a real heart-sorrow to the Queen. Those who saw the Jubilee procession in 1887 retain a vivid recollection that among all that splendid retinue there was no figure more noble and impressive than that of the Prince Imperial of Germany. His tall figure, martial bearing, and bronzed, manly face, set off by the white uniform he wore, made him conspicuous among the crowds of Princes and notabilities. But a cruel disease had already laid hold of him, and almost exactly a year after his apparently magnificent physique had attracted universal admiration in the crowds collected for the Jubilee, he was gathered to his fathers, and his son, our Queen’s eldest grandson, William II, reigned in his stead. The Emperor Frederick reigned for three months only; his aged father, the Emperor William I., having died in March, 1888. Many noble hopes and ambitions died with the Emperor Frederick. He had been one of the chief authors of the unity of Germany, and was the constant representative in German politics of the principle of constitutional liberty. When he took his bride from England, on a bitter winter’s day in 1858, the little Princess cried bitterly at parting from her parents and her native country. Her tears were misinterpreted by the crowd, from whom a shout proceeded, “If he doesn’t treat you well, come back to us.” The implied distrust of the Prince was wholly uncalled for; he adored his wife, and those two shared the burdens and hopes and responsibilities of their position in a way that any husband and wife might envy. It had been from first to last a marriage of true minds.