And so, when Schleswig-Holstein was forgotten, and even the image of the Prince had begun to grow dim in the fickle memories of men, the solitary watcher remained immutably concentrated at her peculiar task.  The world’s hostility, steadily increasing, was confronted and outfaced by the impenetrable weeds of Victoria.  Would the world never understand?  It was not mere sorrow that kept her so strangely sequestered; it was devotion, it was self-immolation; it was the laborious legacy of love.  Unceasingly the pen moved over the black-edged paper.  The flesh might be weak, but that vast burden must be borne.  And fortunately, if the world would not understand, there were faithful friends who did.  There was Lord Granville, and there was kind Mr. Theodore Martin.  Perhaps Mr. Martin, who was so clever, would find means to make people realise the facts.  She would send him a letter, pointing out her arduous labours and the difficulties under which she struggled, and then he might write an article for one of the magazines.  “It is not,” she told him in 1863, “the Queen’s sorrow that keeps her secluded.  It is her overwhelming work and her health, which is greatly shaken by her sorrow, and the totally overwhelming amount of work and responsibility—­work which she feels really wears her out.  Alice Helps was wonderfully struck at the Queen’s room; and if Mrs. Martin will look at it, she can tell Mr. Martin what surrounds her.  From the hour she gets out of bed till she gets into it again there is work, work, work,—­letter-boxes, questions, etc., which are dreadfully exhausting—­and if she had not comparative rest and quiet in the evening she would most likely not be alive.  Her brain is constantly overtaxed.”  It was too true.

III

To carry on Albert’s work—­that was her first duty; but there was another, second only to that, and yet nearer, if possible, to her heart—­to impress the true nature of his genius and character upon the minds of her subjects.  She realised that during his life he had not been properly appreciated; the full extent of his powers, the supreme quality of his goodness, had been necessarily concealed; but death had removed the need of barriers, and now her husband, in his magnificent entirety, should stand revealed to all.  She set to work methodically.  She directed Sir Arthur Helps to bring out a collection of the Prince’s speeches and addresses, and the weighty tome appeared in 1862.  Then she commanded General Grey to write an account of the Prince’s early years—­from his birth to his marriage; she herself laid down the design of the book, contributed a number of confidential documents, and added numerous notes; General Grey obeyed, and the work was completed in 1866.  But the principal part of the story was still untold, and Mr. Martin was forthwith instructed to write a complete biography of the Prince Consort.  Mr. Martin laboured for fourteen years.  The mass of material with which he had to deal was almost incredible, but he was extremely industrious, and he enjoyed throughout the gracious assistance of Her Majesty.  The first bulky volume was published in 1874; four others slowly followed; so that it was not until 1880 that the monumental work was finished.