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Important Historical Books for the Young
_Makers of England Series_

By EVA MARCH TAPPAN, Ph.D.

  _In the Days of Alfred the Great_
    Cloth. Illustrated. _Net_ $1.00

  _In the Days of William the Conqueror_
    Cloth. Illustrated. _Net_ $1.00

  _In the Days of Queen Elizabeth_
    Cloth. Illustrated. _Net_ $1.00

  _In the Days of Queen Victoria_
    Cloth. Illustrated. _Net_ $1.00


By CALVIN DILL WILSON

  _The Story of the Cid Young People_
    Cloth. Illustrated by J. W. Kennedy. $1.25


Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Co., Boston



[Illustration: Her Majesty the Queen in her state robes.
(_From painting by Alfred F. Chalon, R.A., 1838._)]



Makers of England Series



IN THE DAYS

OF

QUEEN VICTORIA



By

EVA MARCH TAPPAN, Ph.D.

AUTHOR OF "IN THE DAYS OF ALFRED THE GREAT," "IN THE DAYS OF
WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR," "IN THE DAYS OF QUEEN ELIZABETH," ETC.

_ILLUSTRATED FROM FAMOUS PAINTINGS AND ENGRAVINGS AND FROM
PHOTOGRAPHS_



BOSTON:
LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO.

Published, August, 1903

COPYRIGHT, 1903, BY LEE AND SHEPARD
_All rights reserved_

IN THE DAYS OF QUEEN VICTORIA




PREFACE


To her own people Queen Victoria was England itself, the emblem of the
realm and of the empire. To millions who were not her people the words
"the Queen" do not bring even yet the thought of the well-beloved woman
who now shares the English throne, but rather of her who for nearly
sixty-four years wore the crown of Great Britain and gave freely to her
country of the gift that was in her.

Other women have been controlled by devotion to duty, other women
have been moved to action by readiness of sympathy, but few have
united so harmoniously a strong determination to do the right with
a never-failing gentleness, a childlike sympathy with unyielding
strength of purpose.

Happy is the realm that can count on the list of its sovereigns one
whose career was so strongly marked by unfaltering faithfulness, by
honesty of aim, and by statesmanlike wisdom of action.

EVA MARCH TAPPAN.

WORCESTER, MASS.
_February, 1903._




CONTENTS


CHAPTER                                           PAGE

   I. BABY DRINA,                                    1

  II. THE SCHOOLDAYS OF A PRINCESS,                 21

 III. EXAMINATION DAY,                              43

  IV. A QUEEN AT EIGHTEEN,                          68

   V. THE CORONATION,                               89

  VI. THE COMING OF THE PRINCE,                    114

 VII. HOUSEKEEPING IN A PALACE,                    138

VIII. A HOME OF OUR OWN,                           163

  IX. NIS! NIS! NIS! HURRAH!                       186

   X. THE ROYAL YOUNG PEOPLE,                      212

  XI. THE QUEEN IN SORROW,                         235

 XII. THE LITTLE FOLK,                             259

XIII. MOTHER AND EMPRESS,                          278

 XIV. THE JUBILEE SEASON,                          299

  XV. THE QUEEN AND THE CHILDREN,                  319

 XVI. THE CLOSING YEARS,                           338




ILLUSTRATIONS


Her Majesty the Queen in her state robes. (_From painting
by Alfred E. Chalon, R.A., 1838_)                     _Frontispiece_

                                                       _Facing page_

Her Royal Highness the Duchess of Kent and Princess Victoria
(_From painting by Sir W. Beechey, R.A._)                        16

The Princess Victoria at the age of eleven                       46

The coronation of Queen Victoria. (_From painting by Sir
George Hayter_)                                                 110

Albert, Prince Consort, in the uniform of a field marshal       136

The Queen in 1845. (_From a painting by John Partridge_)        158

Queen Victoria; Prince Albert; Victoria, Princess Royal;
Albert Edward, Prince of Wales; Prince Alfred; Princess
Alice; Princess Helena. (_From a painting by F. Winterhalter,
1848_)                                                          188

Westminster Abbey                                               216

Balmoral Castle                                                 244

Houses of Parliament                                            274

Windsor Castle                                                  302

Her Majesty, Queen Victoria. (_From a photograph by
A.Bassano_)                                                    338




In the Days of Queen Victoria




CHAPTER I

BABY DRINA


"Elizabeth would be a good name for her," said the Duke of Kent.
"Elizabeth was the greatest woman who ever sat on the throne of
England. The English people are used to the name, and they like it."

"But would the Emperor Alexander be pleased?" asked the Duchess. "If he
is to be godfather, ought she not to be named for him?"

"Alexandra--no; Alexandrina," said the Duke thoughtfully. "Perhaps you
are right. 'Queen Alexandrina' has a good sound, and the day may come
when the sovereign of England will be as glad of the friendship of the
Emperor of Russia as the Regent is to-day."

"Are you so sure, Edward, that she will be a sovereign?" asked his wife
with a smile.

"Doesn't she look like a queen?" demanded the Duke. "Look at her golden
hair and her blue eyes! There, see how she put her hand out, just as if
she was giving a command! I don't believe any baby a week old ever did
that before. The next time I review the troops she shall go with me.
You're a soldier's daughter, little one. Come and see the world that
you are to conquer." He lifted the tiny baby, much to the displeasure
of the nurse, and carried her across the room to the window that looked
out upon Kensington Garden. "Now, little one," he whispered into the
baby's ear, "they don't believe us and we won't talk about it, but
you'll be queen some day."

"Is that the way every father behaves with his first baby?" asked the
Duchess.

"They're much alike, your Grace," replied the nurse rather grimly, as
she followed the Duke to the window with a blanket on her arm. The Duke
was accustomed to commanding thousands of men, and every one of them
trembled if his weapons and uniform were not spotless, or if he had
been guilty of the least neglect of duty. In more than one battle the
Duke had stood so firmly that he had received the thanks of Parliament
for his bravery and fearlessness. He would never have surrendered a
city to a besieging army, but now he had met his match, and he laid the
baby in the nurse's arms with the utmost meekness.

The question of a name for the child was not yet decided, for the
wishes of someone else had to be considered, and that was the Prince
Regent, the Duke's older brother, George. He thought it proper that his
niece should be named Georgiana in honor of himself.

"Georgiana let it be," said the Duke of Kent, "her first name shall be
Alexandrina."

"Then Georgiana it shall _not_ be," declared the Prince Regent. "No
niece of mine shall put my name second to any king or emperor here in
my own country. Call her Alexandrina Alexandra Alexander, if you
choose, but she'll not be called Alexandrina Georgiana."

When the time for the christening had arrived the Archbishop of
Canterbury and the Bishop of London came to Kensington in company with
the crimson velvet curtains from the chapel at St. James' and a
beautiful golden font which had been taken from the Tower for the
baptism of the royal baby. The Archbishop and the Bishop, the Prince
Regent, and another brother of the Duke of Kent, who was to represent
the Emperor of Russia as godfather, all stood around the golden font in
the magnificent cupola room, the grand saloon of Kensington Palace. The
godmothers were the child's grandmother and aunt, and they were
represented by English princesses. All the royal family were present.

After the prayers had been said and the promises of the sponsors made,
the Archbishop took the little Princess in his arms and, turning to the
godfathers and the godmothers, he said: "Name this child."

"Alexandrina," responded the Duke of York.

"Give her another name," bade the Duke of Kent in a low tone.

"Name her for her mother, then," said the Prince Regent to the
Archbishop, and the baby was christened Alexandrina Victoria.

It made little difference to either the Duke or the baby how the Prince
Regent might feel about her name, for the Duke was the happiest of
fathers, and the little Drina, as the Princess was called, was a merry,
sweet-tempered baby. Everyone at Kensington loved her, and over the sea
was a grandmother, the Dowager Duchess of Coburg, who could hardly wait
for the day to come when she would be able to see the child. "How
pretty the little Mayflower will be," she wrote, "when I see it in a
year's time." Another letter said: "The English like queens, and the
niece of the beloved Princess Charlotte will be most dear to them."
Princess Charlotte was the only child of Prince George, and the nation
had loved her and longed to have her for their queen. She had married
Leopold, the brother of the Duchess of Kent, and had died only two
years before "Princess Drina" was born.

The succession to the English crown was in a peculiar condition. The
king, George III., had become insane, and his eldest son, George, was
ruling as Prince Regent. If the Regent lived longer than his father, he
would become George IV. His next younger brother was Frederick, Duke of
York; then came William, Duke of Clarence; and then the Duke of Kent.
George and Frederick had no children, and William's baby girl died on
the very day that the Princess Alexandrina was born. If these three
brothers died without children, the Duke of Kent would become king; but
even then, if the Duke should have a son, the law was that he, rather
than the daughter, should inherit the crown. The baby Princess, then,
stood fifth in the succession to the throne, and a child born to any
one of these three uncles, or a son born to her father, would remove
her still further from sovereignty.

The English people had talked of all these possibilities. The Duke of
Kent had also several younger brothers, but they were all middle-aged
men, the youngest forty-five, and not one of them had a child. If all
the children of George III. died without heirs, the English crown would
descend to a line of Germans who had never walked on English soil. "We
have had one king who could not speak English," said the people, "and
we do not want another." The Duke of Kent was a general favorite among
them, and they hoped that he, and after him his daughter, would become
their ruler. Indeed, they hoped for this so strongly that they began to
feel sure that it would come to pass. Everyone wanted to see the little
Princess. Many a person lingered under the palace windows for hours,
and went away feeling well repaid for the delay if he had caught a
glimpse of the royal baby in her nurse's arms.

When the Princess was four months old, the Duke gave orders one
afternoon that she should be made ready for a drive with him.

"But is it not the day of the military review on Hounslow Heath?" asked
the Duchess.

"Yes," replied the Duke, "and where else should a soldier's daughter be
but at a review? I want to see how she likes the army. You know she
will be at the head of the army some day," he added half in jest and
half in earnest. "Won't you let me have her?" The Duchess shook her
head playfully. Just then the nurse entered the room with the little
Princess in her outdoor wraps. The tall Duke caught up the child and
ran to the carriage like a naughty boy with a forbidden plaything, and
the nurse followed.

At the review the Duke was not so stern a disciplinarian as usual, for
more than one man who was expected to stand "eyes front" took a sly
look at the pretty baby in her nurse's arms, and the proud father
forgot to blame him for the misdemeanor. After the review the people
gathered about the carriage.

"God bless the child," cried an old man. "She'll be a Princess
Charlotte to us."

"Look at her sweet face," said another. "Did you ever see such bright
blue eyes? She'll be a queen who can see what her people want."

There were hurrahs for the Princess and hurrahs for the Duke. Then a
voice in the crowd cried: "Give us a rousing cheer for the Duchess who
cares for her own baby and doesn't leave her to the hired folk."

In all this hubbub and confusion the blue-eyed baby did not cry or show
the least fear. "She's a soldier's child," said the Duke with delight,
and he took her from the nurse and helped her to wave her tiny hand to
the admiring crowd.

Prince George had never been on good terms with his brother, the Duke
of Kent, and after the affair of the name he was less friendly than
ever. He was always jealous of the child, and when he heard of her
reception at the review he was thoroughly angry. "That infant is too
young to be brought into public," he declared.

She was not brought into so public a place again, but she won friends
wherever she went. The Duke could not bear to have her away from him
for an hour, and the greatest honor he could show to a guest was to
allow him to take the little one in his arms. An old friend was at the
Palace, one evening, and when he rose to go, the Duke said: "No, come
with me first and see the child in her crib." As they entered the room
of the little Princess, the Duke said: "We are going to Sidmouth in two
or three days to cheat the winter, and so we may not meet again for
some time. I want you to give my child your blessing. Pray for her, not
merely that her life may be brilliant and free from trouble, but that
God will bless her, and that in all the years to come He will guide her
and guard her." The prayer was made, and the Duke responded with an
earnest "Amen."

In a few days the family set out for Sidmouth. Kensington was becoming
cold and damp, and the precious baby must not be risked in the London
chills of the late autumn. The Duchess, moreover, had devoted herself
so closely to her child that she needed a change and rest.

At Sidmouth the old happy life of the past six months went on for a
little while. The house was so small that it was called "hardly more
than a cottage," but it had pretty verandas and bay windows, shaded by
climbing roses and honeysuckles. It stood on a sunny knoll, with tall
trees circling around it. Just below the knoll was a little brook
running merrily to the sea, a quarter of a