From the midst of the Jubilee celebration of the two hundredth coronation anniversary, I was called to the deathbed of my grandmother, Queen Victoria, by a dispatch announcing to me the serious condition of the Queen. I hurriedly made the journey with my uncle, the Duke of Connaught, who was at Berlin as the Queen's representative at the festivities--he was the favorite son of the Queen and my particular friend, and a son-in-law of Prince Frederick Charles--and I was cordially received in London by the then Prince of Wales and the royal family. As my carriage drove out at a trot from the railway station a plainly dressed man stepped forward from the closely packed crowd standing there in absolute silence, to the side of the carriage, bared his head, and said: "Thank you, Kaiser." The Prince of Wales, later Edward VII, added: "That is what they all think, and they will never forget this coming of yours." Nevertheless, they did forget it, and quickly. After the Queen had quietly breathed her last in my arms, the curtain fell for me upon many memories of childhood. Her death signified the close of an epoch in English history and in Germany's relations with England. I now got into touch, as far as possible, with prominent personages, and noted everywhere a thoroughly sympathetic, friendly spirit, which made no secret of the wish for good relations with Germany. At the farewell banquet impromptu speeches were made by King Edward VII and myself, which were cordial in tone and content, and did not fail to make an impression on their hearers. After the meal the English ambassador at Berlin clasped my hand and said that my speech had touched all his fellow countrymen's hearts, because what I said was sincere and simple, as was fitting for Englishmen; that the speech must at once be made public, since it would have an effect throughout the country, which was grateful for my coming; and that this would be useful to the relations between the two countries. I answered that it was a matter for the British Government and the King to decide, that personally I had no objections to having the speech made public. Nevertheless, it was not made public, and the British people never learned of my words, which were the sincere expression of my sentiments and thoughts. In another talk later on with me at Berlin the same ambassador deeply regretted this, but was unable to say what the reason was for this omission. In concluding my remarks on my stay in England I cannot pass over the fact that a portion of the German press was unfortunately lacking both in tactful appreciation of the grief of the English royal family and people, as well as of the obligations which my family relationship and political considerations imposed upon me. After my return home from England I was able to report to the Chancellor on the good impressions I had received, and particularly that opinion in England was apparently in favor of an understanding and of closer relations.