THE GIRLHOOD OF
QUEEN VICTORIA

A SELECTION FROM HER MAJESTY’S
DIARIES BETWEEN THE YEARS
1832 and 1840

PUBLISHED BY AUTHORITY OF
HIS MAJESTY THE KING

EDITED BY VISCOUNT ESHER, G.C.B., G.C.V.O.

IN TWO VOLUMES
VOL. I

LONDON
JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET, W.
1912

In the preparation of this book much is due to the ungrudging help given to the Editor by the late Mr. Hugh Childers in the tedious and complicated task of tracing the numerous references to persons and places mentioned in the Queen’s Journals.

Mr. Hugh Childers rendered valuable service to the Editors of The Letters of Queen Victoria, and in the preparation of this book his labour and trouble were no less freely expended under trying circumstances of failing health. His loss is deeply regretted by the Editor.

All Rights Reserved

PREFACE

These extracts from the early Journals of Queen Victoria have been edited by command of her son, King Edward VII., and under the gracious auspices of her grandson, King George V.

The Editor feels bound to express his humble gratitude to the King, and his deep obligation to the Queen, for the encouragement and assistance he has received from their Majesties in the preparation of these volumes.

Without the Queen’s help and exact historical knowledge of the period covered by the Journals, many imperfections in the editing of them would have passed unnoticed.

The Editor must also return his warmest thanks to H.R.H. Princess Christian of Schleswig-Holstein, whose retentive memory of the persons mentioned in the text has been unreservedly and generously brought to bear upon the notes to these volumes, and to H.R.H. Princess Henry of Battenberg, to whose pious regard for her Mother’s memory, as Executrix of Queen Victoria’s Will, the publication of the Journals may be ascribed.

Furthermore, he is anxious to thank Lord Rosebery for his friendly co-operation in having read the proofs, and for many valuable suggestions.

And, finally, he cannot sufficiently acknowledge the care lavished upon the publication of this book by his friend John Murray, junior, whose inherited gifts have been placed unreservedly at the disposal of the Editor.

CONTENTS

H.R.H. Princess Victoria & “Dashy”
from a picture by R. Westall R. A. at Windsor Castle

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

VOL. I

Note.—The illustrations marked * are taken from the Queen’s private albums, in which she kept portraits of relations and friends, specially painted for her.

INTRODUCTION

I

Apart from the onward surge of Empire during both epochs, apart from the flow of scientific thought and the breeze of literary enthusiasm characterising them, there is much in the atmosphere of Victoria’s advent to the Throne, and her long and glorious tenure of it, to remind us of the central figure of the Elizabethan age.

Both princesses were reared and educated, although for very different reasons, in the uncertain glory of succession to the Throne. Both mounted the Throne early in life alone and unprotected, at a moment of reaction against the abuses of monarchy. Under George III. as under Henry VIII. this country had been subjected to violent commotion consequent on the struggle for national freedom against a foreign power. The Reformation in England and the Napoleonic wars owed their successful issue to the persistent determination of the English people to be free. The hated marriage of Mary and the matrimonial scandals of George IV. had cast a gloom over the temper of the nation. Even the triumph of the popular cause, due to the grudging support given by William IV. to his Whig Ministers, had not restored the forfeited prestige of the Monarchy.

Reaction was the corollary against the fear inspired by Philip in the one case and the humiliating memories of Queen Caroline in the other. That reaction came in the shape of the popular enthusiasm inspired by a young and attractive Tudor princess, who at Hatfield on a late November afternoon in 1558 heard from Cecil that she was Queen of England. Three centuries later a similar outburst followed the accession of another youthful princess only just eighteen years old, looking scarcely more than a child, when she received the homage of Lord Melbourne at Kensington Palace on a June morning of 1837.

It is tempting to follow this seductive pathway through the devious alleys of historical comparison and contrasts. The troubles of Elizabeth’s childhood at Hunsdon, the pitiful laments of her excellent governess at the poverty of her ward’s surroundings, and the hostile atmosphere surrounding her person were reflected in a minor degree within the precincts of Kensington during the early years of Princess Victoria’s life.

Our concern, however, is not with Elizabeth but with Victoria, with the England into which she was born, and with the influences which helped to give her character and bearing a certain strength and dignity, and attuned her heart, not perhaps to deep tenderness, but to much compassion.

The pen recoils from an attempt to tell again the story of Princess Victoria’s birth and early life, or to describe once more the political events of her first years upon the Throne. Moreover, these volumes tell their own tale. They set forth in the young Princess’s own artless words the daily facts of her existence at Kensington, or when making some provincial royal progress in the company of her mother.

The reader can catch many a glimpse here and there of the soul of a Princess, proud and headstrong, affectionate and sometimes perverse, seated on the lonely heights of the Throne. The portrait is here, within these pages. It is not unskilfully drawn, when the youth of the artist is borne in mind. At the time when the first entries in these Journals were made, the writer was thirteen years old. The last page was written on the day of her marriage. She had been two years a Queen, and she was in her twenty-first year.

Princess Victoria, the only child of the Duke and Duchess of Kent, and the ultimate heiress in direct succession of George III., was born on May 24, 1819. In 1819 the aspect of English country life was not very different from that of to-day; if the roads were not so well surfaced, and if woodlands were rather more plentiful, the fields and hedgerows, the farmsteads with cottages grouped around them, the Tudor manor-houses, the Georgian villas, the church spires, and the village greens have remained unchanged. Except for lines of railway and telegraph poles, the hop-fields of Kent and the Surrey commons have kept their shape and contours. So that, in spite of the miracles wrought by machinery in the minutiæ of life, any one of our grandparents cruising in an airship at an elevation of some hundreds of feet over the lands where he hunted and shot, or even the great town in which he spent his summer months, would probably be unconscious of much distinctive change.

Young people, however, think it odd when they read that when Princess Victoria was taken from Kensington to Claremont—a journey now accomplished with as little thought as would then have been given to a drive between the Palace and Hyde Park—it was considered a “family removal” of such moment as to require all the provision and precautions associated to-day with an autumn holiday.

To those still young, but old enough to remember Queen Victoria, it may seem hardly credible that she was born into a world devoid of all the marvels of steam and electric contrivance that appear to us the necessities, and not merely the luxuries, of life. How much more difficult it must be for them to realise that when the young Princess (whom they remember a great and mysterious figure, welcoming back only the other day her soldiers from South Africa, and rejoicing in their victories) was carried into the saloon of Kensington Palace to be received by Archbishop Manners Sutton into the Church of Christ, the mighty spirit of Napoleon brooded still behind the palisades of Longwood, and George III.’s white and weary head could still be seen at the window of his library at Windsor!

The Victorian era covers the period of the expansion of England into the British Empire. The soldier, still young to-day, who put the coping-stone on the Empire in Africa in 1900 is linked by the life of the Queen to his forbears, who, when she was born, were still nursing the wounds gloriously earned four years before in laying its foundation in a Belgian cornfield.

That year 1819, however, was a year of deep despondency in England. In Europe it was the “glorious year of Metternich,” then at the height of his maleficent power. Europe was quit of Napoleon, but had got Metternich in exchange, and was ill pleased with the bargain. Great Britain, it is true, was free, but our people were overwrought by poverty and suffering. The storm-swell of the great Napoleonic wars still disturbed the surface of English life, and few realised that they were better off than they had been during the past decade.

At Holland House, its coteries thinner but still talking, Lady Holland—old Madagascar—was still debating what inscription should record the merits of Mr. Fox upon his monument in the Abbey for the edification of future ages. In St. James’s Place Sam Rogers’s breakfasts had not lost their vogue. Tommy Moore was still dining with Horace Twiss, and meeting Kean, and Mrs. Siddons, “cold and queenlike,” on her way to view Caroline of Brunswick’s “things” shortly to be sold at Christie’s, or to criticise Miss O’Neill’s dress rehearsals. On the very day that Princess Victoria was born, Byron was writing to John Murray from Venice “in the agonies of a sirocco,” and clamouring for the proofs of the first canto of Don Juan. In that year Ivanhoe was finished, and in the hands of eager readers; whilst Scott was receiving at Abbotsford a certain Prince Leopold of Saxe-Coburg, uncle of the baby at Kensington, destined thereafter to play a large part in her early life. Keats had just published Endymion. It was his last year in England before going south to die. And it was Shelley’s annus mirabilis: the year in which he wrote Prometheus and The Cenci—an achievement, some have since said, unparalleled in English poetry since Shakespeare lived and wrote.

The Excursion had been published five years before, but Wordsworth was at Rydal Mount completing The White Doe of Rylston. Southey was Poet Laureate. Three years before, in the “wild and desolate neighbourhood amid great tracts of bleak land enclosed by stone dykes sweeping up Clayton heights,” Charlotte Brontë’s eyes had opened upon her sad world. Carlyle, then a young teacher in Edinburgh, was passing through that stormy period of the soul which comes sooner or later to every one whose manhood is worth testing by God. And half-way between Horncastle and Spilsby, on the lower slope of a Lincolnshire wold, Alfred Tennyson was reading Pope’s Iliad and himself “writing an epic of 6,000 lines à la Walter Scott.” At Shrewsbury School under Dr. Butler, Charles Darwin, then a boy of ten, had already begun to develop a taste for “collecting,” manifested in “franks” and seals and coins. Robert Browning, a turbulent and destructive child of seven, had already commenced making rhymes less complicated, but not less ambitious, than those which puzzled his readers sixty years later. Goethe, who had grown to manhood within earshot of Frederick the Great and of the Empress Maria Theresa, was living at Weimar with many years of life still before him, corresponding with the boy Mendelssohn, later to be a welcome guest, at Windsor, of the little Princess, then in her cradle in Kensington Palace. Mazzini, aged fourteen, was at the University in Genoa, a rebellious lad, but already affecting the deep mourning dress he never altered later in life. Cavour, aged nine, was at school in Turin. Sir Thomas Lawrence was in that year engaged in finishing his magnificent series of historical portraits afterwards to find a home at Windsor Castle, illustrating for all time the Congress of Vienna and the story of the Great Coalition against Napoleon.

Under this galaxy of stars, some slowly sinking below the horizon, and others just rising above it, Princess Victoria was born.

In the year following, King George III. died. Historians, mostly partisans of the Whig party, have not done this King justice. Of all Sovereigns who have ever reigned in England, none so completely represented the average man among his subjects. The King’s blameless morals, his regular habits, his conservative instincts and narrow obstinacy, were characteristics which he shared with the people he ruled. Of the House of Hanover he was the first King born in England, and he spoke his native tongue without a foreign accent. If he could have reconciled it to the family tradition, he would have married an English wife. He was essentially British in character and sentiment. Had he not been overborne by his Ministers, he would have fought out to a finish the war with America, and peace with Washington would not have been concluded. He never for a moment contemplated abandoning the struggle against Napoleon. No party whip could have taken more trouble to keep his chief in office than did George III. to support Mr. Pitt throughout that Minister’s first administration. He has been called despotic, but that adjective can only be used, in speaking of him, in the sense that he wished to see his views prevail. He was a good partisan fighter, and this, in the main, his subjects never disliked. A close and impartial examination of the character of George III. discloses a temperament strongly resembling that which her Ministers were destined in the middle and later years of her reign to find in his granddaughter. Strong tenacity of view and of purpose, a vivid sense of duty, a firm though unrevealed belief in the transcendental right of the Sovereign to rule, a curious mingling of etiquette and domestic simplicity, and a high standard of domestic virtue were marked characteristics of George III. and of Queen Victoria. Both these descendants of Princess Sophia had little in common with the Stewarts, but, like Elizabeth and the Tudors, they had intense pride in England, and they showed a firm resolve to cherish and keep intact their mighty inheritance.

When George III. died at Windsor in 1820, and during the ten following years, Princess Victoria’s uncle, George IV., reigned as King. For the previous ten years he had reigned as Prince Regent. If his father has been misjudged, this Sovereign too has been misrepresented by those who have made it their business to write the political history of our country. He is generally described as being wholly bad, and devoid of any decent quality as a man and as a Sovereign. Decency perhaps was not his strong point; but though it is not possible to esteem him as a man, George IV. was not a bad King. In his youth, as Prince of Wales, in spite of glaring follies and many vices, he possessed a certain charm. When a boy he had broken loose from the over-strict and over-judicious watchfulness of his parents. Kept in monotonous seclusion, cloistered within the narrow confines of a Palace, fettered by an Oriental system of domestic spies, cut off from intercourse with the intellectual movement of the outer world, the royal children, warm-blooded and of rebellious spirit, ran secret riot after a fashion which modern memoirs have revealed in Borgian colours. It was a natural reaction of young animal life against unnatural and unhealthy restraint. The Prince of Wales, when he was eighteen years old, was unwillingly and perforce liberated. It followed, simply enough, that he became a source of constant grief and annoyance to his royal father. Not only were the canons of morality violated by him with little regard for the outward decorum due to his great position, but the young Prince plunged into a turgid sea of politics, and it was not long before he stood forth as the nominal head of a faction bitterly opposed to the King’s Ministers, and the head and front of personal offence to the King himself.

In the eyes of high society he was a Prince Charming, vicious if you will, a spendthrift and a rake, the embodiment of a reactionary spirit against the dulness and monotonous respectability of the Court. He was known to appreciate beautiful objects as well as beautiful faces. He was not altogether without literary culture. He appeared to be instinctively drawn to the arts and sciences with a full sense of the joy of patronage, and he made it clear to every one that he welcomed the free intercourse of men of all ranks, provided that they possessed some originality of character or some distinction of mind. In Mr. Fox he found a willing mentor and an irresistible boon companion. Among that little group of Whigs, of whom Sheridan was the ornament and the disgrace, he found precisely the atmosphere which suited him, so completely was it the antithesis of that in which his boyhood had been spent. As he grew older, the rose-tinted vices of his youth became grey and unlovely, while the shortcomings of his mind and his heart were more readily discerned; but much of his personal charm remained. In his most degenerate days, in the years of his regency and kingship, when he dragged into the public eye the indecencies of his domestic misfortunes and paraded his mistresses before the world, he still managed to retain a curious and genuine hold upon the affections of his Ministers. Although he possessed none of their regard, he was not altogether without some following among the people.

George IV.’s merits were a certain epicurean kindness of heart and a not ungenerous desire to give pleasure, coupled with a true sense of his constitutional position and a firm-drawn resolve to distinguish between his private predilections and his public duty. The nation owes him very little, but in any case it owes him this, that he was the first Sovereign since Charles I. who showed a blundering reverence for beautiful things. He enlarged and consolidated the artistic wealth of the nation. A life-long patron of artists, he fostered the growth of national art. He added largely to the splendid collections which now adorn Windsor and the metropolis. Whatever the final judgment passed upon him may be, both as a man and as a Sovereign, he must in strict justice be spared the unqualified contempt with which superior spirits, taking their cue from Thackeray, have treated him. It should weigh with every man who reads The Four Georges that King George IV. was certainly liked, and was certainly not despised, by Sir Walter Scott. In his later years the old King displayed some little kindness to his niece, the young Princess Victoria, who had succeeded his own daughter as prospective heiress of England. If he saw her but rarely, he now and again betrayed knowledge of her existence, and once took her for a drive in his pony-carriage. There are still extant some short letters which she wrote to him in a large baby hand. In 1830 he died, and was succeeded by his brother the Duke of Clarence.

William IV. was the most fortunate of the children of George III. Thanks to his profession as a sea-officer, he escaped early from the stifling atmosphere of the Court, and had the glorious privilege of serving under the command of Hood and of Nelson. His sea service ended when he was only twenty-five years old. It left the usual dominant sea-mark upon his character. Like so many gallant sailors, his mind was untrained and ill-disciplined. His sense of duty was strong, though undiscerning. He was courageous and truthful. He had ten children by Mrs. Jordan born out of wedlock, but they were all well cared for and never disowned. He realised his constitutional duty sufficiently to see that he must yield to the expressed will of the nation, but he yielded so clumsily that all men believed him to be coerced. Wisely anxious to be well known and popular among his subjects, he chose the curious method of walking down St. James’s Street dressed in long boots and spurs during the most crowded hour of the afternoon. His predecessor had lived the last years of his life in seclusion and silence; he determined therefore to give full scope to his naturally garrulous disposition. He talked in season and out of season with an irresponsibility which savoured of the quarter-deck, but wholly without the salt of the sea. By his Ministers he was regarded with kindliness, although it cannot be said, in spite of Lord Grey’s panegyric, that they held him in much respect. By the middle classes he was looked upon with amused and not unfriendly amazement. In the eyes of the masses he was “Billy,” their sailor-King, and among monarchical safeguards there are few stronger than a nickname and the aureole of the Navy.

William IV. married late in life Princess Adelaide of Saxe-Coburg-Meiningen, but the fates left him with no surviving children when he ascended the Throne in 1830. During his reign of seven years the King showed much kindness to the little niece who was clearly designated as his successor. Her mother, however, contrived to irritate him by giving too much prominence to the obvious fact of her daughter’s heirship to the Throne. By “progresses” made on different occasions and undertaken with considerable ceremonial, the Duchess of Kent excited the wrath of the King, who made no attempt to conceal his annoyance, and took evident pleasure in the display of it at embarrassing moments in public. It was partly owing to the friction between her mother and King William and to the unpleasant atmosphere created in consequence of these quarrels, and partly to the presence in her mother’s household of Sir John Conroy and his family—persons very distasteful to the young Princess—that Queen Victoria was in the habit of saying that her childhood had been a sad one. These Journals, begun in her fourteenth year, betray no sense of childish sorrow, and no reader can glean from them any confirmation of her statement that her early life was unhappy. It must be remembered, however, that this Journal was not a sealed book. It was not privately put away under lock and key and reserved only for the eye of the writer. The young Princess’s Journals were commenced in a volume given to her by her mother for the express purpose that she should record the facts of her daily life, and that this record of facts and impressions should be open to the inspection of the child’s governess as well as of her mother. It is natural, therefore, that the earlier volumes should contain very little beyond the obvious and simple things which any girl would be likely to write down if she were attempting to describe her life from day to day. When the Princess ascended the Throne and assumed her queenly independence, the tone of the Journals changes at once. It becomes immediately clear to the reader that while the Princess’s Journal was written for her mother, the Queen’s Journal was written for herself. One of her earliest entries after her succession was to state her intention of invariably seeing her Ministers alone; and she might have added, had she thought it worth stating, that her Journal also would in future be seen by her alone.

Journals are often said to be useful to the historian. This theory is based on the assumption, hardly borne out by experience, that he who writes a journal writes what is true. A journal is supposed to record events, great or small, which are happening at the moment, and to convey impressions about personages with whom the writer comes in contact, or who loom sufficiently large to justify their being mentioned. When, however, it is remembered how inaccurate our information generally is, and how mistaken we often are about the character and motives even of those we know intimately, it is not surprising that the most brilliant diarist should frequently state facts which cannot be verified from other sources, and colour the personality of his contemporaries in a manner quite unjustifiable unless truth be deliberately sacrificed to the picturesque. The Journal of Charles Greville, perhaps the most famous of English modern journals, is full of gross inaccuracies in matters of fact and still grosser distortions of character. It is, nevertheless, a striking picture of the political and social world haunted by that persistent eavesdropper, and, like any well-written journal, throws a vivid and interesting light upon the character of the writer.

Similar criticisms apply to most famous memoirs, like Saint-Simon’s or Lord Hervey’s, written with a view to serving the historian of the future, and with the distinct purpose of giving bias to history.

They do not apply to these diaries of Queen Victoria. The Queen makes no attempt to analyse character or the meaning of events. She never strives after effect. Her statements are just homely descriptions of everyday life and plain references to the people she meets at Kensington or at Windsor. If the young Princess sees a play that pleases her or hears a song that touches her, she says so. If the Queen hears something said that strikes her as original or quaint, the saying is put on record. She is not writing for the historian. She writes for her own pleasure and amusement, although there is always present to her mind a vague idea, common enough at the time, that to “keep a journal” is in some undefined way an act of grace.

The reader should not lose sight of the fact that these Journals are the simple impressions of a young girl, not twenty years old, about her own life and about the people she met. This constitutes their charm. She writes of her daily movements, and of the men and happenings that gave her pleasure. Either by nature or design, she avoided the mention of disagreeable things, so that these early Journals give one a notion of a life happily and simply led.

If they throw no new light on the history of the period, they will give to future generations an insight, of never-failing interest, into the character of the young Queen.

II

Princess Victoria’s first Journal was commenced on August 1, 1832. She was thirteen years old. The first entry is made in a small octavo volume half bound in red morocco, of a very unpretentious kind.[1] On the first page there appear the words, “This book Mamma gave me, that I might write the journal of my journey to Wales in it.—Victoria, Kensington Palace, July 31.”

The Duchess of Kent was at this time forty-six years of age. She had been a widow for twelve years. She was the fourth daughter of the Duke of Saxe-Coburg-Saalfeld, and was first married to the Prince of Leiningen-Dachburg-Hadenburg. He was twenty-three years her senior. By him she had one son, Charles, often mentioned in these Journals, and one daughter Feodorowna, subsequently married to Ernest, Prince of Hohenlohe-Langenburg.

Two years after her second marriage, to the fourth son of George III., the Duchess of Kent was left a widow for the second time. Crippled by the Duke’s debts, that she was quite unable to pay,[2] with three young children on her hands, she was miserably poor. Her jointure yielded her an income of under £300. Her brother Leopold, then living at Claremont, came to her assistance, and made her an allowance of £3,000 a year.

In 1825, when it became evident that her daughter Princess Victoria would in all probability succeed to the Throne of England, Parliament voted an annuity of £6,000 to the Duchess, for the maintenance and education of her child, and this was subsequently increased after the accession of William IV.

The upbringing of her daughter became her absorbing occupation, and, shutting herself up in Kensington Palace, she devoted herself to the child’s education.

The lessons of Princess Victoria’s childhood were superintended by the Dean of Chester. Her education, judged by the standards of to-day, was not of an exceptionally high order. It would be interesting to know what old Roger Ascham would have thought of the Dean of Chester’s curriculum. So far as can be gathered from her own childish records and from the correspondence and memoirs of those who had access to Kensington, she was taught the ordinary things which children are supposed to learn. Fortunately, perhaps, no effort of any special kind was made to train her mind or mould her character, with a view to the responsibilities which lay before her or to the position she appeared destined to fill. When, at a later stage, the Bishops of London and Lincoln were requested to draw up a report, for presentation to Parliament, upon her moral and intellectual attainments, they found no difficulty in giving credit to the Duchess of Kent for the conscientious manner in which she had endeavoured to educate the heiress to the Throne. We may, however, take leave to doubt whether those entrusted with the Princess’s education were teachers endowed with any special aptitudes; and it is certain that the outlook of the Duchess herself, although practical and wise, was not of that discerning character which enabled her to differentiate between a commonplace education and its more subtle forms. It was precisely what might have been expected from one whose youth had been spent in a small German Court, and whose later opportunities had not brought her into contact with highly trained and thoughtful minds.

A foreign observer and critic once suggested a doubt whether the Queen could have maintained through life her admirable mental equilibrium if education had developed in her high intellectual curiosity or fantastic imagination. It is an interesting speculation. Soundness of judgment possibly rests upon the receptive rather than upon the creative faculties, and upon physical rather than upon intellectual activities. It may, as has been said, require a rare type of intelligence—that of Disraeli—to combine ideas and dreams with the realities of public life. In the domain of learning, Queen Victoria had very little in common with Elizabeth or with any Sovereign of the Renaissance. Her mother and the worthy Dean, who watched over her youth, were content to foster the quality of good sense, and to inculcate high standards of private and public virtue. Her future subjects, could they have been consulted, would have strongly approved. In after-years the English middle-class recognised in the Queen a certain strain of German sentimentality which they affectionately condoned, and a robust equilibrium of mind which they thoroughly admired.

It is as well, therefore, that events took the shape they did, and that the mind and character of the Princess were trained upon simple lines in accordance with the practice of the average citizen families subsequently to be her subjects. In years to come the Queen was perhaps better able to look at events and persons from the point of view of the majority of her people than would have been possible if her education had given her a high place among the intellectuals. It was a saving grace throughout her long reign that while she could recognise intellect and capacity, her sympathies were with average people, whose feelings and opinions she more readily understood and in reality represented.

In these days, when Accomplishments, as they were called in the first half of the nineteenth century, are no longer esteemed in young people, and their place has been usurped by athletic exercises, it is difficult to describe, in a way that appeals to the serious imagination, the girlish tastes of Princess Victoria. Perhaps the world has not lost much because young ladies to-day learn to play golf and have ceased to sing duets.

In the thirties, music and painting and a knowledge of modern languages were the necessary equipment of a girl destined to move in Society. It mattered little how reedy and small the voice, she was expected to vocalise like Grisi and to sing duets with Mario.

The Queen had been well trained musically, according to the lights of those days. She could appreciate the simpler forms of melody, especially Italian opera, while she could sing and play sufficiently well to give much pleasure to herself and mild pleasure to others. As a linguist, as a reader, and as a writer of letters and memoranda she had no pretensions to pre-eminence; but she could speak modern languages as well as any Queen is called upon to do, she could read and appreciate high literature, although not without effort, and she could express herself with pungency and vigour, although not with any marked literary skill or distinction of style.

Her drawings and water-colour sketches were through life a constant source of happiness to the Queen. There are at Windsor literally hundreds of small sketch-books, containing reminiscences of her journeys and sojournings in Scotland and in Italy, again not of high artistic merit, but sufficiently vital to suggest the reflection that a young lady of to-day is possibly no gainer by having substituted the golf-club for the pencil.

The Queen’s teachers were excellent, commonplace people, and they left precisely those traces on her mind that might have been expected. Her character was another matter. They could not and did not influence that, and it is the character of the Queen that places her in the small category of rulers who have not only deserved well of their country, but have left an indelible stamp upon the life of their people.

III

These Journals were commenced in the year 1832, a year memorable in our history for the fruition of hopes deeply cherished by the political party that had arisen, under the auspices of Canning, after the close of the struggle with Napoleon.

During the year when the first Reform Bill became the law of the land, the passions of men had been deeply stirred throughout Great Britain. The political struggle, begun seventeen years before, had come to a head. The classes still paramount had found themselves face to face with the desires and aspirations of classes hitherto subordinate to have a share in the government of the country. These feelings had grown fiercer year by year, and, encouraged by the Whig party headed by Earl Grey, had found ultimate expression in the Reform Bill of 1832, framed under the ægis of that Minister. All over Europe the stream of change and reform, loosed by the French Revolution and subsequently checked by the Congress of Vienna, began once more to flow. During the sixteen years that followed Princess Victoria’s first entry in these Journals, the waters of Revolution had flooded Europe. Thrones and institutions in every European country were shaken, many of them to their foundations, and some with disastrous results. Fortunately for Great Britain, her statesmen had anticipated the events of 1848, and the Reform Bill had so far satisfied the aspirations of the hitherto unenfranchised classes as to render innocuous the frothing of agitators during that tragic year of revolution. In aptitude for anticipating social and political change and avoiding violent manifestations of popular will, the English race stands pre-eminent. Our people as well as our statesmen have from the earliest times proved themselves to be experts in the art of government, and the history of Europe is a commentary upon that gift of the British nation.

There have, of course, been moments when the atmosphere of politics has been highly charged with electricity. Such a moment occurred in 1832. A storm broke with unusual violence over the head of William IV. The House of Lords was bitterly hostile to a Bill, accepted by the House of Commons and supported with enthusiasm by the majority of his subjects. There was no machinery existing under the Constitution for adjusting these differences except that of creating a sufficient number of Peers to ensure the passage of the Reform Bill through the House of Lords. The King therefore found himself in the unpleasant position of having to place his prerogative of creating peers in the hands of his Ministers, or else by his own act to dispense with their services. The choice found him undecided and left him baffled. He was not acute enough to see that in the existing state of public opinion he had no choice. If he had possessed wit to read the signs of the times, it is doubtful whether he would have had sufficient single-minded courage to take immediate action in accordance with the opinion he had formed. Penetrating vision the King lacked, and responsibility was distasteful to him. Consequently he was not only weak, but he showed weakness. It was clear that the Government of Lord Grey held unimpaired the confidence of the House of Commons and possessed the full approval of the country. Every intelligent observer realised that the Reform Bill, in spite of its aristocratic foes, in spite of the prophets of evil, and in spite of its inherent defects, was bound to be passed into law. King William, however, conceived it to be his duty to endeavour to find an alternative Government. It was as certain as anything could be in politics, that Sir Robert Peel would not, and that the Duke of Wellington could not, come to his assistance. There was something pitiful about the spectacle of the old sailor-King casting about for a safe anchorage, and finding one cable parting after another. Security was only to be found in the Ministers who had advised him, in the last resort, to use his prerogative for the purpose of swamping a majority in the House of Lords that hesitated to bow to the will of the people. Ultimately he was constrained to accept their advice, but it was only after a loss of personal dignity and a distinct weakening of the authority of the Crown. The King, men said, had touted about to find Ministers to serve him, and had failed to find them. This humiliation, at least, King William might have avoided, had he possessed a clearer vision of possibilities and greater firmness of character.

The political storms of 1832 appear to have broken noiselessly against the walls of Kensington Palace, for in the little Princess’s Journals there is no sign that she was aware of them. The King’s worries, however, so affected his temper, that it was impossible for the Princess and her mother not to feel its reflex action. In the Journals no mention is made of the domestic troubles which have been described elsewhere, and we know, from expressions of Queen Victoria’s in later years, that she had purposely refrained, in compiling her Journals, from referring to her mother’s worries and her own.

During the four years that immediately preceded Princess Victoria’s accession to the Throne, from 1832 to 1836, these Journals give us the picture of a young life passed amid the tranquil surroundings of Kensington Palace, its educational monotony only varied by attendance at the opera or the theatre, by autumnal trips into the provinces, or by welcome visits from foreign cousins. These autumnal trips were the “royal progresses,” as he called them, against which King William was wont to protest in vehement language. They evidently gave intense pleasure to the Princess. Her Journals contain records of them all. Some examples have been given, in these extracts, of her method of describing her visits to provincial cities and towns, to seaside summer resorts, and to a few of the great homes of those who were afterwards to be her Ministers or subjects.

It was during this period that she got her first glimpse of the Isle of Wight, where so much of her life was afterwards to be spent. The fact that Sir John Conroy, whom she disliked, lived for many years at Osborne Lodge seems not to have prevented her from subsequently becoming deeply attached to that quiet home amid beautiful surroundings created by her and Prince Albert upon the site where Osborne Lodge had stood. Whippingham Church, to be so closely connected with her and her children, was first visited in the year 1833.

Enough has been included in these extracts to show her liking for the opera and for the theatre, her pleasure in music, her devotion to the pursuit of riding, and that love for animals which characterised her through life.

When she was sixteen she went to Ascot for the first time, and figured in the royal procession. It began to be recognised that the young Princess had passed the threshold of girlhood. In that year her Confirmation took place at the Chapel Royal, St. James’s, and Archbishop Howley, believed to be the last prelate who wore a wig, officiated. During the autumn she visited Yorkshire and stayed with Archbishop Harcourt at Bishopthorpe and with Lord Fitzwilliam at Wentworth. Coming south, she was the guest of the Duke of Rutland at Belvoir, of Lord Exeter at Burghley, and of Lord Leicester at Holkham. In the following year, 1836, she met for the first time her cousin Prince Albert of Saxe-Coburg. He and his elder brother Ernest visited Kensington Palace at the instance of her uncle Leopold. The fact that Prince Albert had been thought of years before by the King of the Belgians as a possible husband for Princess Victoria was sufficient to set King William IV. against the match. The King, however, was not uncivil to the brothers when they visited London, but he had ideas of his own about the future of his niece, and he tried hard to lay the foundations of an alliance between the young Princess and the younger son of the Prince of Orange. Prince Albert on this occasion made no deep impression upon Princess Victoria’s mind or heart, but her loyalty to her uncle Leopold and her regard for his opinion led her to show the graceful young Coburg Prince marked preference over the somewhat ungainly candidate of King William. Her heart was clearly untouched, but she was willing to be guided by the advice of that counsellor and friend to whom in preference to every one she had already begun to turn for help and guidance. As this became obvious to King William, his jealousy and dislike for the Duchess of Kent increased; and in the autumn of this year, 1836, having invited his sister-in-law to a state banquet, he scandalised Society by delivering an after-dinner speech charged with recrimination and insult to his guest.

This was the Princess’s penultimate year as a minor. King William had for a long time been haunted with the fear that he would die before his niece came of age, and that a regency would devolve upon his hated sister-in-law. He was spared what he would have considered this final humiliation, for on May 24, 1837, the young Princess came of age, just a month before the King died at Windsor.

During the final years of her minority she was thrown freely into the society of many of the eminent and distinguished persons soon to be her subjects. The Duchess gave a series of entertainments at Kensington Palace, and the Princess was brought into contact with her mother’s guests. Accounts of these dinners and concerts, and full lists of the guests, are all minutely recorded in the Journals. Comments, however, beyond an occasional expression of delight at the music and admiration for its performers, are excluded. Her life was still the life of a child, and her days were mostly spent with her preceptors, under the auspices of the Duchess of Northumberland, her official governess, and of the Dean of Chester, her tutor.

She had been parted some years before from her half brother and sister by the usual exigencies of time. Prince Charles of Leiningen had become a sea-officer, and Princess Feodore was married. Into the inner orbit of her young life there penetrated only Sir John Conroy, whose person was odious to her, and Baroness Lehzen, the daughter of a Hanoverian clergyman, who had been the Princess’s governess since 1824, and to whom she was deeply attached. Lablache, her singing-master, a man of some originality and charm, was a constant source of interest and amusement to the young Princess, and she preferred his lessons to all others.

It was during these last few years before her accession that the final touches were given to her character by the subtle influences of her environment. The position occupied by Sir John Conroy in her mother’s house inspired and fortified her subsequent resolve to avoid intimacies with members of her household. She became distant and reserved to those about her, and her relations with her mother were chilled. Her mind acquired an impression that family ties, however binding from the point of view of duty, might be superseded by those of friendship. It is undoubtedly the case that Baroness Lehzen occupied at this time the first place in her pupil’s thoughts and affections; while the dawning necessity felt by Princess Victoria for sympathy, and for those intimate communings so attractive to sentimental natures, had a very distinct influence upon the mind and conduct of the Queen in subsequent years. Her Journals afford proof, if proof had been wanting, that, in spite of the opinions of her attainments vouchsafed by eminent clerics, the Princess had not been afforded an education specially designed to fit her for the situation she was to occupy.

She was, at eighteen, as moderately and indifferently equipped as the average girl of her age. If her conversation was not brilliant, her heart was kindly and her judgment sound. She was shrewd and eminently truthful. In spite of her small stature, she was curiously dignified and impressive. Her voice was musical and carried far. And above all things, her rectitude was unassailable, and her sense of duty so keen and high that it supplied any lack of imagination or spiritual deficiency. She was humble-minded, but not, perhaps, very tender. She was passionate and imperious, but always faithful. She was supremely conscious of the responsibilities and prerogatives of her calling, which she was convinced, then and always, were her appanage by the gift of God.

There is nothing in her Journals or elsewhere to show that before she was eighteen years old she had ever talked seriously and at any length to any man or woman of exceptional gifts. It was only when her uncle King Leopold heard of the illness of William IV. that Stockmar was instructed to speak with due gravity upon important matters to the young girl whose accession to the Throne appeared imminent. Her mind at that time was a blank page in so far as questions of high politics or of administration were concerned. In point of fact, this was a fortunate circumstance, and rendered easier the task of those who were bound in the nature of things, and under the constitution of these islands, to use this youthful Princess as one of the chief instruments of government. Her mind was free from any political bias or complexion, and ready to receive the impress of her constitutional Ministers. When, within less than a month of her eighteenth birthday, King William died, and when on June 20, 1837, the Queen found herself face to face with those Whig statesmen in whose hands the destinies of the country had been placed for the time being, their task was unhampered by preconceived ideas or by foregone prejudice in their pupil. For the Queen a new chapter of life was opened. She at once threw off the trammels of pupilage. Not only was she able immediately and without effort to shake herself clear of the domestic influences she had resented and disliked, but for the first time she was enabled to meet and to question distinguished men, with whose names she was familiar, but whose standards of thought and conversation were far higher than any to which she had been accustomed.

IV

It was “in a palace in a garden, meet scene for youth and innocence,” as one in later years to be her favoured Minister wrote, that Princess Victoria received the news of her accession to a Throne overlooking “every sea and nations in every zone.” The scene and the circumstances in which her accession was announced to her by the Archbishop of Canterbury and Lord Conynghame are described by the Queen in her Journal. She has also recorded her impressions of what followed when for the first time she met the Privy Council. What the Queen has not described is the effect produced upon those present by her personality, her youthful charm, her self-possession and perfect modesty, in such strong contrast to everything which her Privy Councillors had been accustomed to find in their former Sovereigns. The Queen was not aware of the interest and curiosity she then excited in the minds of her subjects. She had been brought up in such comparative seclusion, that both to “Society” and to the great world outside her character was an enigma and even her appearance very little known. Her sex and youth rendered her personality exciting to a public satiated with the elderly vagaries of her uncles. It was noticed at her first Council that her manner was very graceful and engaging. It was particularly observed that after she had read her speech in a clear and singularly firm voice, when the two surviving sons of George III., the Dukes of Cumberland and Sussex, knelt before her, swearing allegiance, she blushed up to the eyes as if she felt the contrast between their public and private relations, between their august age and her inexperienced youth. It was also noticed that she spoke to no one, and that not the smallest difference in her manner could be detected, even by sharp watching eyes, between her attitude towards Lord Melbourne and the Ministers on the one hand, and towards the Duke of Wellington and Sir Robert Peel on the other. The Queen does not mention, for she was not then aware of it, that Lord Melbourne was charmed and Sir Robert Peel amazed at her demeanour. They spoke afterwards with emotion of her modesty, firmness, and evident deep sense of her situation. She did not know then, although she knew later, that the Duke of Wellington said that had she been his own daughter he could not have desired to see her perform her part better.

These Journals only accentuate what is already known from many sources, that the Queen showed in difficult circumstances not only good taste and good feeling, but admirable good sense. Her attention to details, which some might consider trifles, but which differentiate the careful from the thoughtless mind, was noticed with approval and surprise by her Ministers. She exhibited caution in her treatment of those persons who had been about her since childhood, and she made no appeal to any of them for advice or guidance. Nor did she permit advice to be proffered. Sir John Conroy was dismissed at once from her surroundings. Baroness Lehzen she retained, as before, about her person, and she speaks of her, throughout these Journals, with deep feeling. It was noticed, whenever she was asked to decide some difficult matter, her customary reply was that she would think it over, and give her answer on the morrow. Onlookers, knowing that she relied on the advice of Lord Melbourne, generally assumed that she referred to him in the interval. He, however, declared that to many of his questions a similar reply was given. In point of fact, she was obeying one of the precepts of her uncle, the King of the Belgians.

It will be obvious to the readers of this book that a potent influence over the mind and actions of the young Queen was exercised by Lord Melbourne. It was the natural outcome of the business relation between a very charming and experienced man of the world who happened to be her Prime Minister and a very young girl isolated in the solitary atmosphere of the Throne. From the Queen’s accession to the day of her marriage the table-talk of Lord Melbourne fills the largest space in her journals. Her description of their intercourse confirms what we know from other sources, that Lord Melbourne became absorbed by the novel and striking duty that had fallen to his lot. His temperament and his antecedents rendered him peculiarly sensitive to the fascinating influences of the strange relation in which he stood to this young Queen. Lord Melbourne’s life had been chequered by curious experiences, and his mind had been thoroughly well trained, for a man of his station, according to the lights of those days. A classical education, the privilege from youth upwards of free intercourse with every one worth knowing, the best Whig connection, and an inherited capacity for governing men under oligarchic institutions, had equipped his intellect and judgment with everything that was necessary to enable him carefully to watch and safeguard the blossoming of the character of the girl who was both his pupil and his Sovereign.

He was no longer young, but he was not old. His person was attractive. According to Leslie, no mean judge, his head was a truly noble one, and he was a fine specimen of manly beauty in the meridian of life. Not only were his features handsome, but his expression was in the highest degree intellectual. His laugh was frequent and the most joyous possible, his voice so deep and musical that to hear him say the most ordinary thing was a pleasure; and his frankness, his freedom from affectation, and his peculiar humour rendered almost everything he said, however easy and natural, quite original. Chantrey’s bust and the well-known portraits of Melbourne corroborate the descriptions given by his contemporaries.

The Queen’s Journals afford us some illustrations of the extent of his memory and reading. In his knowledge of political history he was unsurpassed by any living Englishman, and among the statesmen of that day there were none by age, character, and experience so well qualified for the task of making the Queen acquainted with the art of government, or better able to give her a correct interpretation of the laws and spirit of the constitution. He understood perfectly the importance of training her to work straightforwardly but secretly with that small committee of active politicians, representing the parliamentary majority of the day, which goes by the name of the Cabinet. Sir Robert Peel and the Duke of Wellington, the Leaders of the Opposition, felt and admitted that for her initiation into the mysteries of Kingcraft, the Queen could not have been in wiser hands. It will be obvious from these Journals that the Queen drifted into political partisanship. She lived in dread of losing her Whig Ministers, and she got “to hate” the Tories. This only meant—and under all the circumstances it was natural—that she ardently desired to retain her mentor at her side. It is to the credit of Lord Melbourne that he was constantly discouraging his Sovereign’s bias towards the Whig Party, of which he was the head, and that he never lost an opportunity of smoothing the way for the advent of Sir Robert Peel which he knew to be inevitable. He was, not inaptly, called a Regius Professor with no professorial disqualifications, and it was precisely from this point of view that the Tory leaders recognised the indispensable nature of his task, and approved his manner of performing it. He was a Whig no doubt, says his biographer, but at any rate he was an honest-hearted Englishman, and, in no merely conventional sense, a gentleman on whose perfect honour no one hesitated to place reliance.

He treated the Queen with unbounded consideration and respect, yet he did not hesitate to administer reproof. He consulted her tastes and her wishes, but he checked her inclination to be headstrong and arbitrary. He knew well how to chide with parental firmness, but he did so with a deference that could not fail to fascinate any young girl in a man of his age and attainments. The Queen was completely under his charm. The ease of his frank and natural manners, his quaint epigrams and humorous paradox, his romantic bias and worldly shrewdness, were magnified by her into the noblest manly virtues.

He saw her every day, but never appeared to weary of her society. She certainly never tired of his. Yet he was fifty-eight years old, a time-worn politician, and she was a girl of eighteen. He was her confidential servant and at the same time her guardian. She was his ward and at the same time his Sovereign. The situation was full of the possibilities of drama, yet nothing can be more delightful than the high comedy revealed in the passages of the Journals that refer to Lord Melbourne. That he should have happened to be First Minister of the Crown when King William died was a rare piece of good fortune for the new Sovereign and for the country. With all the immense powers of head and heart which the Queen came later to discover in Sir Robert Peel, we may take leave to doubt if he could so lightly and so wisely have assumed and fulfilled the duties imposed upon his predecessor.

It is impossible to exaggerate the effect produced upon the mind and character of the Queen by the apostolic letters of her uncle. Even the sound constitutional dogma of Stockmar might have failed to influence one naturally inclined to be autocratic. Those, however, who were to reap the profit in later years of the shrewd daily culture of the Queen’s mind, of the skilful pruning away of ideas dangerous in a British Sovereign, of the respectful explanation of her duties, of the humorous rallying upon slight weaknesses which might have developed into awkward habits, were deeply indebted, as these Journals show, to the sagacity of Lord Melbourne.

V

Two Queens Regnant, Queen Mary and Queen Anne, both of Stewart blood, lived much at Kensington Palace, and both died there. As a place of residence it had no attractions for the Sovereigns of the House of Hanover. Queen Victoria was fond of the old wing in which her youth had been spent, and which was subsequently occupied for many years by the Duchess of Teck and her children. Built on piles, those portions of the Palace that were uninhabited, and therefore indifferently looked after, had towards the end of the Queen’s reign fallen into such disrepair that their demolition had been decided by the Treasury. The Queen disliked intensely the idea of removing any part of the old building. Ultimately a bargain was made with the Chancellor of the Exchequer of the day. It involved a certain exchange of houses in the gift of the Crown and some shifting of financial responsibility. Kensington Palace was saved, and a considerable sum was voted by Parliament for its restoration, on condition that the public should be admitted to certain rooms of historic interest.

King George’s dream, and no one knows better its visionary character, is to pull down Buckingham Palace, to round off St. James’s and the Green Parks at Constitution Hill and Buckingham Gate, and then, with the money obtained by the sale of the Gardens of Buckingham Palace, to reconstruct Kensington Palace as the town residence of the Sovereign.

For Queen Mary the place is full of memories and, because of her keen historic sense, full of interest.

Compared with most of the great European capitals, London is poor in palaces. The homes of the Tudor Sovereigns in and near the metropolis, Nonsuch, Greenwich, and Whitehall, have disappeared. London contains no single palace residentially associated with our long line of Sovereigns. The Court of St. James was housed, in the eighteenth century, in the Palace of that name. It seems to have been adequate for the needs of the Hanoverian Princes, who had none of the amplitude of the Tudors or the fine taste of the Stewarts.

The memories of Windsor, however, are long memories. Although Queen Victoria never liked Windsor, perhaps because she was never in good health there, it is with Windsor Castle that the principal events of her reign are associated. The thoughts of the few, the very few, comparatively speaking, of her subjects who were admitted to the seclusion of Court life during two-thirds of the Queen’s reign may carry them back to quiet days at Balmoral or Osborne, but it was round Windsor that the political interest of the Victorian era centred. There the links of the chain have remained unsevered between the Sovereigns of Great Britain to-day and their Plantagenet ancestors.

If the Queen’s attachment to Windsor was not deep, she was more indifferent still to Buckingham Palace. There is not a word in her Diaries or correspondence to show that she in any way looked upon it as a home or even a residence in any degree interesting or attractive. No attempt was made, after the death of the Prince Consort, to improve or beautify it. The magnificent objects of art and the splendid collection of pictures were badly displayed and quite unappreciated. Few, outside the circle of the Court, knew of their existence. The Palace was judged by its mean façade, and the nation was rather shamefaced about the home of its Sovereign, and certainly took no credit for the really noble rooms and their contents which Buckingham Palace contains.

Yet, through the picture-gallery of this Palace hung with masterpieces of the Dutch School, through the throne-room and the drawing-room resplendent with the royal portraits of Reynolds and Gainsborough, or through the matchless corridor at Windsor, have passed nearly all the great figures of the nineteenth century, practically the whole of which was spanned by the life of the Queen.

It is an imposing array, worthy of its setting. Heroes and statesmen, men of science and letters, artists and scholars, all moved, with a feeling of awe, into the presence of the Queen whose girlhood is recounted by herself in these pages.

To those accustomed to the easier manners of more recent times it is difficult to convey a sense of the atmosphere of Windsor during the reign of the Queen. Her extraordinary aloofness was its determining cause, but the effect was that of a shrine. Grave men walked softly through the rooms of the Castle, and no voice was ever raised. The presence of the Sovereign brooded, so to speak, over the Palace and its environment. The desire to be negligently at ease never entered the mind. The air was rarefied by a feeling that somewhere, in a region unvisited by any but the most highly privileged, was seated, not in an ordinary arm-chair, but on a throne, the awe-inspiring and ever-dignified figure of the Sovereign. The proud intellect of Gladstone and the rugged self-sufficiency of Bright bent before the small, homely figure in widow’s weeds. In spite of this homeliness of appearance, notwithstanding her love of simplicity and her dislike of tawdriness and display, her spirit never put aside the regal habit. How rarely the Queen extended her hand! It was a great privilege, and only on special occasions vouchsafed to her Ministers. Men and women bent very low to kiss that hand. This was not due to her small stature, but to the curious, indefinable awe that she undoubtedly inspired during the later portion of her life in all who approached her. Will the reader find, in these records of her girlhood, intimations of that moral ascendency she afterwards acquired over her subjects?

It was unquestionably a triumph of character. Even now to attempt a serious estimate of the intellectual capacity of Queen Victoria is a difficult task. There are too many still among us the greater part of whose lives were spent under her sway. It is a fault in nearly all recent biographies that they attempt appreciations which only the lapse of time can enable a writer to draw in true perspective.

A venerable Sovereign, in full possession of his great powers of intellect and character, who was almost an exact contemporary, still rules a European people as proud of him as were her subjects of the Queen. At least one of her faithful servants, who was present at her Coronation seventy-four years ago and at every great ceremonial throughout her reign, is still alive and full of manly vigour. Her children are in the prime of life, and her favourite grandson is the beloved Sovereign of the people she governed. Unqualified praise is always distasteful, and critical analysis may easily prove to be in singularly bad taste. Queen Victoria’s womanly and royal virtues are written in golden letters upon the face of the vast Empire over which she reigned. Her faults may well lie buried, for some time yet, in her grave under the shadow of Windsor.

In the muniment-room of the Castle are preserved the private records of her life-work. Over a thousand bound volumes of letters, from and to the Queen upon all subjects, public and domestic, are there; and over a hundred volumes of her Journals written in her own hand.

It is a unique record. The private papers of George III. have disappeared. Of those of George IV. and William IV., only a few are in existence. Selections from the correspondence of the Queen up to 1861 were published by permission of King Edward. These selections from her early Journals have been made by the gracious leave of King George. It may be many years before it would be wise or prudent to make public any more of the private history of Queen Victoria’s reign. Those who, by good fortune, have had access to these records can, however, safely predict that whatever hereafter leaps to light, the Queen never can be shamed.

INTRODUCTORY NOTE TO CHAPTER I

When the Queen’s Journal opens she was thirteen years and two months old. When she was four years younger Sir Walter Scott was presented to the little Princess Victoria and noted that she was “educating with much care.” At that time she was supposed not to know that she was the “heir of England,” but Scott thought that if the little heart could be dissected it would be found that some little bird had carried the matter. According to Baroness Lehzen, the truth was not revealed until a year before the Princess commenced to write her first Journal. There was a picture painted of her about this time, and it corroborates Lord Albemarle’s description of the little girl of extreme fairness whom he watched watering, at Kensington, a child’s garden, wearing a large straw hat and a suit of white cotton, her only ornament being a coloured fichu round the neck.

The Princess was guarded with extreme care. Leigh Hunt noticed that she was invariably followed, when walking, by a footman in gorgeous raiment. She told her daughters many years later that she was so carefully tended until the day of her accession, that she had never been permitted to walk downstairs without someone holding her hand.

The Princess’s journey commenced August 1, 1832, although the first part of what her Uncle, King William, called her Royal Progresses was not her first trip into the country. With her mother she paid several visits to Ramsgate and Broadstairs. She had stayed with Lord Winchelsea at Eastwell, near Ashford, and she had visited George IV. at the Royal Lodge in Windsor Park. She had spent an autumn at Norris Castle, Isle of Wight, and had been to Bath and Malvern.

Sir Walter Scott expressed a hope that she would not retain the name of Victoria, and when upon the accession of William IV. extra provision was demanded of Parliament for the little Princess Alexandrina Victoria of Kent, who then became heir-presumptive to the Crown, Sir Matthew White Ridley and Sir Robert Inglis desired to make the Parliamentary grant contingent upon the Princess, as Queen, assuming the style of Elizabeth II., on the ground that the name Victoria did not accord with the feelings of the people. The name Victoria, however, was destined to acquire lustre not inferior to that of Elizabeth.

The Princess’s first Progress is minutely described in the first volume of her Journal. Before it ended, Robert Lowe, afterwards her Chancellor of the Exchequer, caught a glimpse of the child as she passed from the Bodleian to lunch with the Vice-Chancellor at Oxford. Her foot was on the threshold of public life.

CHAPTER I
1832

Wednesday, August 1st. We left K.P.[3] at 6 minutes past 7 and went through the Lower-field gate to the right. We went on, & turned to the left by the new road to Regent’s Park. The road & scenery is beautiful. 20 minutes to 9. We have just changed horses at Barnet, a very pretty little town. 5 minutes past ½ past 9. We have just changed horses at St. Albans. The situation is very pretty & there is a beautiful old abbey there. 5 minutes past 10. The country is beautiful here: they have began to cut the corn; it is so golden & fine that I think they will have a very good harvest, at least here. There are also pretty hills & trees. 20 minutes past ten. We have just passed a most beautiful old house in a fine park with splendid trees. A ¼ to 11. We have just changed horses at Dunstable; there was a fair there; the booths filled with fruit, ribbons, &c. looked very pretty. The town seems old & there is a fine abbey before it. The country is very bleak & chalky. 12 minutes to 12. We have just changed horses at Brickhill. The country is very beautiful about here. 19 minutes to 1. We have just changed horses at Stony Stratford. The country is very pretty. About ½ past 1 o’clock we arrived at Towcester & lunched there. At 14 minutes past two we left it. A ¼ past 3. We have just changed horses at Daventry. The road continues to be very dusty. 1 minute past ½ past 3. We have just[4] passed through Braunston where there is a curious spire. The Oxford canal is close to the town. 1 minute to 4. We have just changed horses at Dunchurch & it is raining.

For some time past already, and now, our road is entirely up an avenue of trees going on and on, it is quite delightful but it still rains. Just now we go at a tremendous rate. 4 minutes to 5. We have just changed horses at Coventry, a large town where there is a very old church (in appearance at least). At ½ past 5 we arrived at Meridon; and we are now going to dress for dinner. ½ past 8. I am undressing to go to bed. Mamma is not well and is lying on the sofa in the next room. I was asleep in a minute in my own little bed which travels always with me.

Thursday, 2d August.—I got up after a very good night at 5 o’clock this morning. Mamma is much better I am happy to say, and I am now dressing to go to breakfast. 6 minutes to ½ past 7. We have just left Meridon, a very clean inn. It is a very bad day. 10 minutes to 9. We have just changed horses at Birmingham where I was two years ago and we visited the manufactories which are very curious. It rains very hard. We just passed through a town where all coal mines are and you see the fire glimmer at a distance in the engines in many places. The men, women, children, country and houses are all black. But I can not by any description give an idea of its strange and extraordinary appearance. The country is very desolate every where; there are coals about, and the grass is quite blasted and black. I just now see an extraordinary building flaming with fire. The country continues black, engines flaming, coals, in abundance, every where, smoking and burning coal heaps, intermingled with wretched huts and carts and little ragged children....

I received from the mayor an oaken box with a silver top and filled with the famous Shrewsbury cakes. We lunched there. We left it at a ¼ to 3. As we passed along the streets a poor unhappy hen, frightened by the noise flew on the carriage but she was taken off. We had our horses watered half way. When we arrived at the outskirts of Welshpool we were met by a troop of Yeomanry who escorted us for a long time and the little town was ornamented with arches, flowers, branches, flags, ribbons, &c., &c. The guns fired as we came up the park and the band played before Powis Castle; Lord Powis[5] and Mr. Clive met us at the door of his beautiful old Castle and Lady Lucy and Lady Harriet Clive were in the gallery. The Castle is very old and beautiful; the little old windows jutting in and out and a fine gallery with a dry-rubbed floor and some beautiful busts. I am now dressing for dinner....

Thursday, 9th August.—I awoke at ½ past 6 and got up at 7. I am now dressing. A little after 8 I went out in the garden, and at about ¼ to 9 we took breakfast. I began to write a letter after breakfast, and then dressed. At ½ past 10 Mamma received an address from the Mayor and Corporation of Beaumaris, and another from the gentlemen inhabitants, and visitors of the town. At ½ past 11 we got into our carriages with my Cousins on the box of ours. In passing the Menai-bridge, we received a salute, and on entering the town of Carnarvon, we were met, not only by an immense crowd, who were extremely kind, and pleased, but by the Corporation also, who walked before the carriage, while a salute was firing. We then arrived at the inn, where Mamma received an address. The address being over we took luncheon, and after that was over, we went to see the ruins of the Castle, which are beautiful, while a salute was fired, from the rampart. We then got into the Emerald, where we were several times saluted, at the last being nearly becalmed, we were towed by a steam packet, called Paul Pry, which saluted us 4 times in the day. We arrived at home at ¼ to 7, and dined at ½ past 7. We drank Uncle Leopold’s health in honour of his marriage that day. I stayed up till ½ past 9. I went to bed soon after, and was soon asleep....

Wednesday, 29th August.—I awoke at ½ past 6 and got up at 7. It is now 6 minutes past 8 & I am quite ready dressed. I then played. We breakfasted at ½ past 8 but without Lady Catherine[6] who is very unwell. I then did my lessons & then played. At ½ past 12 I went out walking. We lunched at 1. At ½ past 3 went to Baron Hill Sir R. Bulkeley’s[7] place. We arrived there at a little after 4. We were received at the door by Sir Richard & farther on by Lady Bulkeley whose dress I shall describe. It was a white satin trimmed with blonde, short sleeves & a necklace, ear-rings and sévigné of perridos & diamonds with a wreath of orange-flowers in her hair. We then went upon the terrace & the band of the Anglesea Militia played “God save the King.” We then presented all the bards & poets with medals. We then [went] into the drawing-room and remained there till dinner. In the drawing-room there were a great many other people. At 5 we went to dinner, which was in a temporary building which was lined in the inside with pink and white linen. The dinner was splendidly served & the china was rich and beautiful. The fruit was magnificent. After dessert was over Sir Richard made a speech and brought out a toast in honor of Mamma & me. We then left the room & went into the drawing-room. We went upstairs into Lady Bulkeley’s pretty little dressing-room. Her toilet table was pink with white muslin over it trimmed with beautiful lace & her things on the toilet table were gold. We then went downstairs and took coffee and the famous dog of Lady Williams,[8] Cabriolle, played tricks. At about 7 we left Baron Hill & proceeded homewards. Poor Lady Catherine who was not able to go was in the evening much better. We arrived at home at about a ¼ past 8. I then went downstairs & stayed up till near 9. I was soon in bed and asleep....

Monday, 17th September.—I awoke at about 8, & got up at near ½ past 8. We breakfasted at 9 downstairs. I then played and did other things. At 1 we lunched. I then played on the piano, & at a little before 3 played at billiards downstairs, with Victoire,[9] & then went out walking. When I came home I first worked & then we blew soap-bubbles.

Sunday, 14th October.—I awoke at 7 and got up at ½ past 7. At ½ past 8 we breakfasted. I then wrote my Journal and some music and at 11 we went to chapel for the last time and the sailors likewise for the last time. The service was performed as usual by Mr. W. Jones. It was over at ¼ past 12. I then walked out with Lehzen[10] and Victoire. At 1 we lunched. At 3 we went out riding, and as we passed through the Park gate the old woman at the lodge came out as usual, to open the gate and she thanked Mamma for what she had given her. We galloped over a green field which we had already done several times. Rosa went an enormous rate; she literally flew. We then went on towards the Menai bridge but turned back under the hill. We cantered a great deal and Rosa went the whole time beautifully. It was a delightful ride. When we came home Mamma got on Rosa and I got on Thomas and cantered him. We came in at ½ past 4. Alas! it was our last ride at dear Plas Newydd. I then walked on the terrace for a short time. At 7 we dined and I stayed up till ½ past 8. I was soon in bed and asleep.

Monday, 15th October.—I awoke at ½ past 5 and got up at 6. At 7 we breakfasted with all the family; and a most beautiful falcon which Sir John Williams[11] sent me was brought in that I might see it. The sailors were so busy and so useful for I saw Kew and Sparks going to and fro. At a ¼ to 8 we got into our carriages and drove out amidst the shouts of the sailors of the Emerald, who were standing on the rigging two by two on the rope-ladders, till the last man was at the very top of all. I looked out of the carriage window that I might get a last look of the dear Emerald and her excellent crew. As we passed along the road we saw Mr. Griffith and Mr. W. Jones and his family....

Miss Victoire Conroy,
from nature.

VICTOIRE CONROY.
From a sketch by Princess Victoria.

10 minutes to 4.—We have just passed through Northop. At about ½ past 4 we went through the Park of Mr. Granville up to his castle. Lord Grosvenor met us there at the head of his Cavalry. And Lord Westminster[12] sent his own fine horses, which were put to our carriage. At about ½ past 5 we arrived at Eaton Hall. We were received at the door by Lord and Lady Westminster, Lady Grosvenor and Lady Wilton. The house is magnificent. You drive up to the door under a lofty vaulted portico with a flight of steps under it, and it takes you to the hall, which is beautiful. The floor is inlaid with various marbles, and arches spring from the sides. Then you enter a beautiful drawing-room; the ceiling joins in a round gilt, with great taste and richness, while the sides arch towards the top. An organ on the right as you enter the room and a large fireplace on the left with stained glass windows. Then Lady Westminster after we had been downstairs a little, showed us our apartments, which are indeed beautiful. I was in bed at ½ past 8.

Tuesday, 16th October.—I awoke at 6 and got up at 7. I then dressed and took some tea. At ½ past 9 we breakfasted. The breakfast-room is magnificent. There are 4 fireplaces; and the windows are of stained glass very beautifully done. A massive lustre of gold with an eagle likewise in gold hangs from the ceiling in the middle of the room. Pillars arching to the top and gilt in parts rise from the sides. Several tables of oak and elm stand in the windows, and the breakfast was served in handsome silver tea and coffee pots; a crown of gold with precious stones contained the bread. Besides Lady Grosvenor and Lady Wilton, there were also Lady Egerton,[13] Mrs. Lane and Miss Bagot. After breakfast Lady Grosvenor brought her 4 children. We then went into our own rooms and I wrote my journal. At 12 Mamma went into the great saloon where all the ladies were and an address from the mayor and corporation of Chester arrived and then another from the gentlemen and inhabitants of Chester, presented by Lord Robert.[14] After this we looked about the room which is indeed beautiful. The ceiling is done in the same splendid manner and a magnificent lustre of gold and glass with a coronet of velvet and pearls hung from the ceiling in the room. Two windows of stained glass, very handsomely done, are on different sides. A superb chimney-place with beautiful furniture and rich carpets, complete the room. 4 beautiful pictures painted by different artists are likewise in the room. We then walked out with most of the people; I walking in front with the eldest and third little girl, the second not being well. We walked about the garden and looked at an aloe which flowers only once in 100 years. We came in at ½ past 1, and lunched at 2. At ½ past 2 we went out driving; Lady Westminster and little Elinor,[15] the eldest child, were in our carriage; she is a delightful child. Lady Catherine and Lehzen followed in another carriage. We drove about the park which is beautiful. When we came home we walked in the kitchen gardens which are indeed very pretty. At ½ past 4 we came home and I worked. At 7 we dined. The dining-room is a fine room beautifully worked at the ceiling. Four large statues of Maltese stone occupy 4 corners, very beautifully executed; one with a helmet is Sir Gilbert le Grosvenor,[16] and the lady[17] next by him is the heiress of Eaton; on the opposite side the man is Sir Robert le Grosvenor, distinguished in the battle of Cressy; the lady near him is a Miss Davis who by intermarrying brought the possessions in town, as Grosvenor Square, Belgrave Square, etc., etc.[18] The window is stained glass with the figure of Hugh Lupus on it. The dinner was served on plate, and the plateau was very handsome with gilt cups on it. The side table was covered with gold plate. After dinner we played at a game of letters and then I sang and Mamma and Lady Catherine sang and afterwards Lady Westminster played on the organ. I stayed up till 10....

Thursday, 18th October.—When we went out after luncheon we went in the garden first and saw a Roman altar which had been dug up near Chester. At 7 we dined. The breakfast-room had been arranged for this purpose. A temporary floor had been arranged at the top of the room, for our table (for all the company who had come to the bow-meeting dined here), and the other four were lower. After the dinner (we being still at table) was over some glee-singers from Chester came and sang the grace in Latin. Then Lord Westminster gave out some toasts; amongst others, “The King,” “The Queen,” Mamma and me; which were received extremely well. After dinner was over, I gave the children, who had come when dinner was over, a little remembrance. I then took leave of the whole family and went to bed. I stayed up till 10.

Friday, 19th October.— ... ½ past 4. We have just changed horses at Buxton, which is a pretty place. The houses are well built and form a crescent. The country about here is very pretty, high rocks covered with trees. There are all about here little rivulets and fountains, rippling over stones. At ½ past 6 we arrived at Chatsworth, which is a beautiful house. It was quite dark. It is built in the shape of a square joined by an arch under which one must drive. We were met at the door by the Duke of Devonshire[19] who conducted us up the staircase, which is made of wood, to our apartments which are indeed beautiful. In the corridor there are some beautiful statues. I dined by myself in my own room with Lehzen. I stayed up till ½ past 8. I was soon in bed and asleep.

Saturday, 20th October.—I awoke at ½ past 7 and got up at 8. At a little past 9 we breakfasted, us 5 by ourselves in a lovely room giving on the park and garden where one could see a cascade which ran all the way down. The room is small; the ceiling is painted and represents some mythology, with books round the room and a splendid carpet. At about 11 we went over the house with the company, which consisted of Lord and Lady Cavendish,[20] Lord and Lady Newburgh,[21] Mr. and Lady Caroline Lascelles,[22] Count Karoly, Mrs. Arkwright, Lady Clifford, Lord and Lady Wharncliffe,[23] Mrs. Talbot, Lord Morpeth,[24] Mr. Cooper, Mr. Henry Greville, and Miss Fanny Cavendish.[25] It would take me days, were I to describe minutely the whole. We went all over the house, and the carving of the frame-work of some looking-glasses was quite beautiful; they are carved in the shape of birds, the plumage being so exquisite that if it was not of the colour of wood one might take them for feathers. It not only surrounds the mirrors but the ceilings of some of the rooms. We saw Lady Cavendish’s little boy who is 10 months old, a beautiful child. We likewise saw the kitchen which is superb for its size and cleanliness; and the confectionary which is as pretty and neat. The Duke’s own apartments contain some superb statues of Canova and others; likewise a beautiful collection of minerals. We saw the library and dining-room which are all beautiful. The library’s ceiling is painted in figures; and the carpet is beautiful. The conservatory which leads from the dining-room is very pretty. We then walked out in the garden, I went into another conservatory which contains a rockery with water falling from it. There are some curious plants there, amongst others two which are worthy of remark; the one is called the pitcher-plant because at the end of each leaf hangs a little bag or pitcher which fills with the dew and supplies the plant when it wants water; the other is called the fly-catcher plant, because whenever a fly touches it, it closes. From the conservatory we went and looked at a monkey which is in the garden, chained. We then went to the cascade and saw some other fountains very curious and pretty. When we had come on the terrace the Duke wished us to plant two trees down under the terrace. So we did, I planted an oak and Mamma a Spanish chesnut. After that we went upon the terrace again and went up a platform which had been arranged with carpets, to view the cricket-match below; the Buxton band playing “God save the King” and the people hurraying and others under tents looked very pretty. From there we went to the stables where we saw some pretty ponies and a Russian coachman in his full dress, and the only Russian horse which remained reared at his command; there were 3 other horses, English ones, but trained like the other. At about ½ past 1 we came home and lunched with the whole party. At ½ past 2 we went in a carriage and 6 with the Duke and Mrs. Cavendish, to Haddon Hall, a very old and singular place. The old tapestry still remaining and iron hooks to keep it back. We then went to the Rookery, a small cottage belonging to the Duke on the banks of the river Wye, very pretty and cool. From there we walked to the Marble Mills and saw how they sawed and polished the marble. There was a little cottage where they sold Derbyshire spar in different little shapes and forms, and some pieces of marble too. We then drove home after having bought a good many things. We came in at 5. At 7 we dined and after dinner at about ½ past 9 we looked at the cascade illuminated, which looked very pretty, and the fountains, blue lights, red lights, rockets, etc. At about 10 the charade began in 3 syllables and 4 scenes. The first act was a scene out of Bluebeard; Lady Caroline Lascelles and Miss F. Cavendish acting the ladies, and Count Karoly as Bluebeard, with Lord Newburgh and Mr. Lascelles as their friends. The next act was a scene of carrying offerings to Father Nile; Mrs. Talbot, Lady Cavendish, Lady Clifford, Miss Cavendish, and the two Miss Smiths as the vestals; and Lord Morpeth, Lord Newburgh, Count Karoly, Mr. Greville, Sir A. Clifford,[26] Mr Cooper, and Mr. Lascelles as the men. Mr. Beaumont was Father Nile. The third act was a scene of Tom Thumb; Lord Morpeth as Tom Thumb, and Lord Newburgh as the nurse. The fourth act was a scene out of Kenilworth (which was the word); Mrs. Talbot as Queen Elizabeth, Lady Cavendish as Amy, Lady Caroline and Miss Cavendish (who danced the menuet with Count Karoly) as her attendants; little Georgina Lascelles[27] as page to bear the Queen’s train, Lord Morpeth as Lord Leicester, Lord Newburgh as an attendant, Count Karoly as Lord Shrewsbury, Mr. Cooper as Sir Walter Raleigh, and Lord Waterpark[28] and Mr. Greville as two more men of the Queen’s, not to omit Lady Clifford as the Queen’s lady, and Sir Augustus as a gentleman of the Queen. They were all in regular costumes. When it was over, which was at ¼ to 12, I went to bed....

Wednesday, 24th October.— ... At 1 we arrived at Alton Towers, the seat of Lord Shrewsbury.[29] This is an extraordinary house. On arriving one goes into a sort of gallery filled with armour, guns, swords, pistols, models, flags, etc., etc., then into a gallery filled with beautiful pictures and then into a conservatory with birds. We lunched there and the luncheon was served on splendid gold plate. We then walked in the gardens. At ½ past 2 we left it....

Wednesday, 31st October.—I awoke at 7 and got up at ½ past 7. At ½ past 9 we breakfasted in the drawing-room, for the gentlemen who were going to hunt breakfasted in the other room, all the ladies and Sir John breakfasting with us. After breakfast at about ½ past 10 we went into the room where they were, and they gave us a toast with many cheers. After that we walked out to see the hunt. We saw them set off. It was an immense field of horsemen, who in their red jackets and black hats looked lively and gave an animating appearance to the whole. They had a large pack of hounds and three huntsmen or Whippers-in. They drew a covert near here in hopes of finding a fox, but as they did not they returned and we got into the carriage with Lady Selina[30] and Lehzen while all the huntsmen and the hounds followed. When we came to a field, they drew another covert and succeeded; we saw the fox dash past and all the people and hounds after him, the hounds in full cry. The hounds killed him in a wood quite close by. The huntsman then brought him out and cutting off the brush Sir Edward Smith (to whom the hounds belong) brought it to me. Then the huntsmen cut off for themselves the ears and 4 paws, and lastly they threw it to the dogs, who tore it from side to side till there was nothing left. We then went home. At 1 we lunched, and at 2, I, Lady Selina, Lady Louisa[31] and dear Lehzen went out walking, towards a farm of Lord Liverpool’s, and when we had passed the farm and were going to return by the village, we heard the blast of a horn and we looked and saw the hounds and hunters going full gallop along a field which was below the field in which we were walking. They came and crossed the field in which we were and we saw all the riders leap over a ditch. We went back the same way that we might see them. When we came near home we saw them go home by the house. At ½ past 3 we came home. At ½ past 6 we dined, and I received my brush which had been fixed on a stick by the huntsman; it is a beautiful one. Amongst the people who were here, those who remain are Mr., Mrs., and Miss Corbett, Mr., Mrs., and Miss Child. After dinner the young ladies played some pretty things from the Pirata and from Fra Diavolo. I stayed up till near 10....

Wednesday, 7th November.— ... ¼ to 4. We have just changed horses at Woodstock, and another detachment of Yeomanry commanded by Lord Churchill[32] ride with us now. We passed through Oxford on our way. At about a little past 5 we arrived at Wytham Abbey, the seat of Lord Abingdon.[33] We were received at the door by Lord and Lady Abingdon, Lady Charlotte Bertie and Lady Emily Bathurst, their daughters. The house is very comfortable; in the drawing-room there is a lovely picture by Angelica Kauffman, Penelope. After staying a few minutes downstairs we went upstairs to our rooms which are very pretty and comfortable. At a little past 7 we dined with several other people. I stayed up till a little past 9.

Thursday, 8th November.—I awoke at a little to 8 and got up at 8. At a little past 9 we breakfasted with the whole party. At 10 o’clock we set out for Oxford in a close carriage and 4 with Lord Abingdon and Lady Charlotte Bertie; the other ladies going in carriages before us. We got out first at the Divinity College, and walked from thence to the theatre, which was built by Sir Christopher Wren. The ceiling is painted with allegorical figures. The galleries are ornamented with carving enriched with gold. It was filled to excess. We were most warmly and enthusiastically received. They hurrayed and applauded us immensely for there were all the students there; all in their gowns and caps. Mamma received an address which was presented by the Vice-Chancellor, Dr. Rowly, and Mamma answered it as usual. Then Sir John[34] was made a Doctor of Civil Law. After that was over, we returned through Divinity College and proceeded in our carriages to the Council Chamber where Mamma received an address there, from the corporation of Oxford, and Sir John the freedom of the City of Oxford. We then went to Christ Church, which is very fine, viewed the hall and chapel and library. Dr. Gaisford[35] is the Dean of Christ Church and is at the head of that college. From there we went to the Bodleian library which is immense. Amongst other curiosities there is Queen Elizabeth’s Latin exercise book when she was of my age (13). We went through Mr. Sneed’s house to our carriages. From there to All Souls’ College where Mr. Sneed is the warden. It is not a college for education, but after they have taken their degree. We saw the library and chapel which is very beautiful. We then went to University College of which the Vice-chancellor is the head. We lunched there and saw the chapel which is very fine. From there we went to New College of which Dr. Shuttleworth[36] is the head. We saw the chapel and hall. From there to the Clarendon printing-press which is very amusing but would take up too much space and time to describe. We then went home. We arrived at home at ½ past 3. At 7 we dined with some other people who were Lord Cantelupe,[37] Lord Folkestone,[38] Lord Loftus,[39] Mr. Gage,[40] Mr. Canning,[41] Lord Thomas Clinton,[42] Mr. L. Gower,[43] Lord Boscawen,[44] etc. etc. After dinner the young ladies sang to the guitar which one of them played. We then sang and Lord Abingdon. I stayed up till 10.

Friday, 9th November.— ... At about ½ past 5 we arrived at Kensington Palace. We resumed our old rooms. At 7 we dined with Jane and Victoire Conroy, Lord Liverpool and Sir John. My aunt Sophia[45] came after dinner. I stayed up till a ¼ to 9.

Monday, 24th December.—I awoke at 7 and got up at 8. At 9 we breakfasted. At ½ past 9 came the Dean,[46] and I gave him Mamma’s and my Christmas box. He stayed till ½ past 11. In the course of the morning I gave Mrs. Brock a Christmas box and all our people. At ½ past 1 we lunched. At ½ past 2 came Mr. Westall[47] till ½ past 3. At 4 came Mr. Sale[48] till 5. At a ¼ to 7 we dined with the whole Conroy family and Mr. Hore downstairs, as our Christmas tables were arranged in our dining-room. After dinner we went upstairs. I then saw Flora, the dog which Sir John was going to give Mamma. Aunt Sophia came also. We then went into the drawing-room near the dining-room. After Mamma had rung a bell three times we went in. There were two large round tables on which were placed two trees hung with lights and sugar ornaments. All the presents being placed round the tree. I had one table for myself and the Conroy family had the other together. Lehzen had likewise a little table. Mamma gave me a little lovely pink bag which she had worked with a little sachet likewise done by her; a beautiful little opal brooch and earrings, books, some lovely prints, a pink satin dress and a cloak lined with fur. Aunt Sophia gave me a dress which she worked herself, and Aunt Mary[49] a pair of amethyst earrings. Lehzen a lovely music-book. Victoire a very pretty white bag worked by herself, and Sir John a silver brush. I gave Lehzen some little things and Mamma gave her a writing table. We then went to my room where I had arranged Mamma’s table. I gave Mamma a white bag which I had worked, a collar and a steel chain for Flora, and an Annual; Aunt Sophia a pair of turquoise earrings; Lehzen a little white and gold pincushion and a pin with two little gold hearts hanging to it; Sir John, Flora, a book-holder and an Annual. Mamma then took me up into my bedroom with all the ladies. There was my new toilet table with a white muslin cover over pink, and all my silver things standing on it with a fine new looking-glass. I stayed up till ½ past 9. The dog went away again to the doctor for her leg. I saw good Louis[50] for an instant and she gave me a lovely little wooden box with bottles.

H.R.H. PRINCESS SOPHIA.
From a portrait by Sir W. Ross.

INTRODUCTORY NOTE TO CHAPTER II

When the Princess was fourteen years old she obtained her first sight of Osborne, that future home in the Isle of Wight where she was destined to spend so many happy years, and which was associated with the closing scenes of her life. Osborne Lodge was the residence of Sir John Conroy. It occupied the site of Osborne Cottage, now the residence of the Queen’s youngest daughter, Princess Henry of Battenberg. In spite of the changes made in the appearance of Osborne by the erection of Osborne House and the laying-out of the grounds round it, that portion of the estate where Osborne Cottage stands, and Whippingham Church, with its manifold associations, have much the same aspect as they had when first explored by Princess Victoria in 1833.

On her birthday, King William gave a children’s party at St. James’s in his niece’s honour, and the ball was opened by the little Princess and her cousin Prince George of Cambridge, then a boy of fourteen, who was afterwards to be the Commander-in-Chief of her armies. The Princess speaks of the ball-room. It is difficult to be sure which room is meant by this. The eastern end of St. James’s Palace had been destroyed by fire in 1809, and had only recently been rebuilt. The Palace was occupied by William IV. and Queen Adelaide, the Queen’s rooms being in that portion which is now called Clarence House, and the King’s apartments occupying the western end of what is now St. James’s Palace proper. It was probably the room hung with yellow silk, next but one to the Throne-room, so familiar to those who attend the King’s Levées, that the little Princess opened her first ball.

This was not her first introduction into Society. Three years before she had been seen at Court, and in 1831 she had attended a Drawing-room.

The Princess now acquired a habit (which she practised for many years) of making sketches from memory of the artists and scenes that struck her imagination during her visits to the theatre. There are many volumes at Windsor Castle full of the Princess’s recollections of the theatre, drawn in pencil or in water-colour. Although the technique may be faulty, these sketches are full of movement and quaintly descriptive. They indicate an absorbed attention on her part, and a vivid memory. They suggest a power of concentration upon the thing she was about, which became in after-life a marked characteristic. From her journals and her sketches as a child of fourteen, an inference might be drawn that little escaped the acute observation of the little Princess. There are many who remember how in later life very little escaped the observation of the Queen.

CHAPTER II
1833

Tuesday, 15th January.—I awoke at 7 and got up at 8. At 10 minutes to 9 we breakfasted. At ½ past 9 came the Dean till ½ past 11. Just before we went out, Mamma’s little dog, a beautiful spaniel of King Charles’s breed, called Dash, and which Sir John gave her yesterday, came and will now remain here. At a ¼ past 12 Lehzen and I went out walking in the park. We met Mrs. Talbot. When we came home I fed dear Rosy who was so greedy. At ½ past 1 we lunched. At 3 came Mr. Steward[51] till 4. At 4 came Mons. Grandineau[52] till 5. Little Dash is perfection, he is already much attached to Mamma and lies always at her feet. At 7 we dined. Aunt Sophia came at 8. Sir John dined here. I stayed up till ½ past 8....

Thursday, 31st January.—At 1 we lunched. At 2 I sat to Mr. Hayter[53] till 10 minutes to 4. At 5 we dined. Sir John dined here. At ½ past 6 we went with Lady Conroy, Jane and Victoire to the play to Drury Lane. It was the opera of The Barber of Seville. It is so well known that I need not describe it. The principal characters were Count Almaviva, Mr. Wood, who looked, sang, and acted extremely well; Rosina, Mrs. Wood; Figaro, Mr. Philipps, who sung very well; Dr. Bartolo, Mr. Seguin, who acted very well. It was in 3 acts and I was very much amused. The after piece called The Nervous Man is only amusing in parts, for Mr. Farren[54] and Mr. Power, two excellent comic actors. We did not see the end of it. We came home at 12....

Saturday, 9th February.—I awoke at 7 and got up at ½ past 7. At ½ past 8 we breakfasted. At ½ past 9 came the Dean till 11. At ½ past 12 we lunched. At I we paid a visit to my aunt the Duchess of Gloucester.[55] When we came home I fed dear little Rosa, and little Isabell. At ½ past 2 came Mr. Westall[56] till ½ past 3. At a ¼ past 5 we dined. Sir John dined here. At ½ past 6 we went to the play with Lady Conroy, Victoire and Lehzen as usual. It was the ballet of Kenilworth. The subject is taken from the novel by Sir Walter Scott, which being so well known I shall not describe. The principal characters were, Lord Leicester, Mons. Theodore Guerinot, who danced beautifully; Amy Robsart, Mdlle. Pauline Leroux, who danced and acted beautifully and looked quite lovely; Jenny, Madame Proche Giubilei, who acted very well and looked very pretty; Queen Elizabeth, Mrs. Vining; Varney, Mr. W. H. Payne; Earl of Sussex, Signor Rossi; Lord Shrewsbury, Mr. Bertram. Besides these, Mdlle. Adele and Mdlle. Chavigny danced a pas de trois with Mons. Theodore Guerinot. They danced very well. At 20 minutes past 9 we came home. I then took tea....

Friday, 5th April.—To-day is Good Friday. At 10 we went to prayers. Jane and Victoire also. The service was performed by the Dean, who gave us likewise a very good sermon. It was taken from the 8th chapter of the Acts of the Apostles, 30th verse. At a ¼ past 12 we went out walking. When we came home I fed sweet Rosy. At ½ past I we lunched. At 3 came Victoire till 5. At 7 we dined. At 8 came Aunt Sophia. I stayed up till ½ past 8....

Saturday, 13th April.—I awoke at 7 and got up at 8. At a ¼ to 9 we breakfasted. At ½ past 9 came the Dean till ½ past 11. The Duchess of Northumberland[57] was present. At 12 we went out riding in the park with Victoire, Lehzen and Sir John. It was a delightful ride. We cantered a good deal. Sweet little Rosy went beautifully!! We came home at a ¼ past 1. At ½ past 1 we lunched. Neither of my masters came. At 6 we dined. The Duchess of Northumberland, Lady Charlotte St. Maur,[58] and Sir John dined here. At 20 minutes to 7 we went out with them to the Opera. We were very much disappointed for Taglioni did not make her début, nor Rubini. We had only one scene of Il Barbière di Siviglia, in which Signor Tambourini, who is a beautiful singer and actor, appeared, and Donizelli. After waiting for half an hour Laporte (the manager) was called out, and he said that Mlle. Taglioni was very unwell in bed, and Mad. Méric was likewise ill, so that Il Pirato could not be performed, but that Rubini would be there directly. After one act of Fidelio, which was shockingly performed, Rubini came on and sang a song out of Anna Boulena quite beautifully. After that there was the ballet of La Somnambula. The principal characters were Mdlle. Pauline Leroux, who looked quite lovely and acted prettily; Mdlle. Adele; Madame Proche Giubelei who looked very pretty; Messrs. Albert and Coulon. We only saw part of it. We came home at ½ past 11....

Tuesday, 23rd April.—I awoke at 7 and got up at ½ past 7. At 9 we breakfasted. At ½ past 9 came the Dean till ½ past 11. The Duchess of Northumberland was present. At a ¼ past 12 we went out riding with Lady Conroy, Victoire, Lehzen, and Sir John. We rode a little way in the park, but the fog was so thick that we turned round and rode down by Gloucester Road, and turned up by Phillimore Place, where it was very fine and not at all foggy. Dear Rosa went beautifully. We came home at ½ past 1. At ½ past 1 we lunched. At 3 came Mr. Steward till 4. At 4 came Mons. Grandineau till 5. At a ¼ to 7 we dined. Sir John dined here, and I dressed dear sweet little Dash for the second time after dinner in a scarlet jacket and blue trousers. At 20 minutes past 8 Mamma went with Jane and Sir John to the Opera. I stayed up till ½ past 8.

Wednesday, 24th April.—I awoke at 7 and got up at 8. At 9 we breakfasted. At ½ past 9 came the Dean till ½ past 11. At ½ past 1 we lunched. At 3 came Mons. Grandineau till 4. Madame Bourdin[59] did not come. At ½ past 6 Lehzen and I dined. At 7 I and Lehzen went into the large saloon, for Mamma gave a dinner to the King. There dined here, the King (the Queen being too unwell to come), the Duke of Cumberland, the Duke of Gloucester, the Archbishop of Canterbury,[60] the Lord Chancellor,[61] the Duke of Devonshire,[62] the Duke of Norfolk,[63] the Duke of Somerset,[64] the Duke and Duchess of Gordon,[65] the Duke of Rutland,[66] the Duchess of Northumberland, the Duchess of Sutherland,[67] the Duke of Cleveland,[68] the Marchioness of Westminster,[69] the Earl of Liverpool, the Earl and Countess Grey,[70] Lord Hill,[71] Lady Dover,[72] the Earl of Uxbridge,[73] the Earl of Albemarle,[74] Lord Amherst,[75] Lady Charlotte St. Maur, Lady Catherine Jenkinson, Lady Cust,[76] Lady Conroy, Sir George Anson,[77] Sir Frederick Wetherall,[78] and Sir John. At about 8 I went to my room with Lehzen. At 20 minutes past 9 I went into the saloon with her to meet the company. The Grenadier Guards’ band played after dinner. I saw all the company go. I stayed up till 11....

Saturday, 27th April.—I awoke at 7 and got up at a ¼ to 8. At a ¼ to 9 we breakfasted. At ½ past 9 came the Dean till 11. The Duchess of Northumberland was present. At 12 we went out walking. When we came home I fed dear little Rosa. At a ¼ past 1 we lunched. At ½ past 2 came Mr. Westall till ½ past 3. At 20 minutes to 3 I sat to Mr. Wyon[79] to have my profile taken for a medal, till 10 minutes to 5. At 6 we dined. Sir John dined here. At a ¼ past 7 we went with Lady Conroy and Lehzen, as usual, to the Opera. It was the opera of Cenerentola by Rossini. The principal characters were the Prince, by Signor Donizelli; the Prince’s servant, Signor Tambourini who sung quite beautifully; the father of Cenerentola, Signor Zuchelli, who acted uncommonly well; Cenerentola, Madame Cinti Damoreau; she sang quite beautifully, so round, so softly, and so correctly. It was her first appearance this season and she was called out. The sisters were two frightful creatures. The ballet which followed was Flore et Zephir. Mdlle. Taglioni[80] made her first appearance this season. She is grown very thin, but danced beautifully, so lightly and gracefully, and each step so finished! She took the part of Flore, and was very prettily dressed in a plain gauze dress, trimmed with flowers across her skirt; a wreath of flowers round her head, and her hair quite flat. Pearls round her neck and arms. She looked lovely, for she is all-ways smiling. We went away soon. We came home at 12....

Friday, 3rd May.—At 12 we went with the Duchess of Northumberland, Lady Charlotte St. Maur, Lady Catherine Jenkinson, Lady Cust, Lady Conroy, Lehzen, Sir George Anson, and Sir John, to the Exhibition at Somerset House. We were met there by Sir Martin Shee[81] (the President), Mr. Westall, Mr. Howard[82] (the Treasurer), Mr. Daniel, and Sir William Beechy.[83] It was a very good exhibition. There were several very fine pictures by Sir Martin Shee. Seven by Mr. Westall. They were 4 landscapes, a drawing of Christ in the arms of Simeon in the temple; a sleeping Cupid, and the death of James 2nd. All very fine. There were 5 of G. Hayter’s but I only saw 3, which were my picture,[84] Lady Lichfield, and Mad. de Delmar’s. There were 3 of Wilkie’s, a portrait of the King, a very beautiful portrait of the Duke of Sussex, and Spanish monks, a scene witnessed in a capuchin convent at Toledo. There were several very fine ones of Howard, Daniel, Eastlake,[85] Landseer,[86] Calcott,[87] Pickersgill,[88] Hilton,[89] etc., etc. We came home at ½ past 2. At ½ past 4 we went out driving in the barouche, but we also walked. We came home at 5....

Wednesday, 8th May.—At ½ past 2 came Mons. Grandineau till ½ past 3. At a ¼ past 4 we walked through the gardens, and then drove in the barouche in the park. We came home at 5. At ½ past 6 Lehzen and I dined. At a little past 7 Lehzen and I went into the saloon, for Mamma gave a dinner. There dined here, H.R.H. the Duke of Orleans,[90] who I was very glad to see, for I had not seen him since nearly 4 years; he brought Mamma a letter from his Mother, the Queen of the French, with a beautiful déjeuner of Sévres china; a letter from Aunt Louisa[91] (his sister), and a beautiful bracelet with her hair in it; for me a letter from Aunt Louisa and a beautiful bracelet with her picture. Prince Talleyrand,[92] the Duchess de Dino,[93] the Duc de Valençay (her son), the Marquess and Marchioness of Lansdowne,[94] the Marquess and Marchioness of Stafford,[95] the Earl and Countess of Tankerville,[96] the Earl and Countess of Sefton,[97] the Earl and Countess Grosvenor,[98] the Earl of Lichfield,[99] the Earl and Countess Granville,[100] Lord Palmerston,[101] Lord Morpeth,[102] Lord Duncannon,[103] Lord Ebrington,[104] Mr. Van de Weyer,[105] Mr. and Mrs. Stanley,[106] Mr. Ellice,[107] Mr. Abercromby,[108] the Aide-de-Camp in Waiting on H.R.H. the Duke of Orleans, Mr. Taylor, Lady Charlotte St. Maur, Lady Conroy, Sir George Anson, and Sir John. At about 8 I went with Lehzen away. The band of the Coldstream Guards played at dinner as well as after dinner, as it had the preceding night. At 20 minutes after 9 Lehzen and I went into the saloon. We met Aunt Sophia there....

Saturday, 11th May.—At a ¼ to 7 we dined. Sir John dined here. At a little after 8 we went to the Opera with Victoire, Lehzen, and Charles. We came in at the end of the first act of Medea. Madame Pasta sang, and acted beautifully, as did also Rubini and Donizelli. The ballet was excessively pretty. It is called Nathalie. The principal dancers were Mdlle. Taglioni, who danced and acted quite beautifully!! She looked very pretty. Her dress was very pretty. It was a sort of Swiss dress; she first appeared in a petticoat of brown and yellow, with a blue and white apron, a body of black velvet ornamented with silver, pointed upwards and downwards, over a light tucker drawn to her neck, with a black ribbon round it, a pair of small white sleeves, a little Swiss straw hat, with long plaits of her hair hanging down, completed her first dress. Her second dress was a petticoat of scarlet and yellow silk, with a white apron, the same body and sleeves, with a wreath of flowers on her head. Mdlles. Thérèse and Fanny Elsler; they are good dancers, but have neither grace nor lightness. Messrs. Albert, Coulon, and Daumont. In the middle of the ballet the Duke of Orleans came into our box for a little while. We saw most of the ballet. I was very much amused....

Friday, 24th May.—To-day is my birthday. I am to-day fourteen years old! How very old!! I awoke at ½ past 5 and got up at ½ past 7. I received from Mamma a lovely hyacinth brooch and a china pen tray. From Uncle Leopold a very kind letter, also one from Aunt Louisa and sister Feodora. I gave Mamma a little ring. From Lehzen I got a pretty little china figure, and a lovely little china basket. I gave her a golden chain and Mamma gave her a pair of earrings to match. From my maids, Frances and Caroline, I also got little trifles of their own work. At ½ past 8 we breakfasted. After breakfast we went into the room where my table was arranged. Mamma gave me a lovely bag of her own work, a beautiful bracelet, two lovely féronières, one of pink topaz, the other turquoises; two dresses, some prints, some books, some handkerchiefs, and an apron. From Lehzen, a beautiful print of the Russell Trial. From Späth,[109] a glass and plate of Bohemian glass. From Sir Robert Gardiner,[110] a china plate with fruit. From Victoria and Emily Gardiner, two screens and a drawing done by them. From the Dean, some books. My brother Charles’s present was not ready. At about ½ past 10 came Sir John and his three sons. From Sir John I received a very pretty picture of Dash, very like, the size of life. From Jane, Victoire, Edward, Stephen, and Henry, a very pretty enamel watch-chain. From Lady Conroy a sandalwood pincushion and needle-case. From Victoire alone, a pair of enamel earrings. The Duchess of Gordon sent me a lovely little crown of precious stones, which plays “God save the King,” and a china basket. At 12 came the Duchess of Northumberland (who gave me an ivory basket filled with the work of her nieces), Lady Charlotte St. Maur a beautiful album with a painting on it; Lady Catherine Jenkinson a pretty night-lamp. Lady Cust, a tray of Staffordshire china. Sir Frederick Wetherall, two china vases from Paris. Doctor Maton,[111] a small cedar basket. Lady Conroy, Jane, Victoire, Sir George Anson, Sir John, and the Dean came also. Lady Conroy brought Bijou (her little dog) with her, and she gave me a little sweet smelling box. They stayed till ½ past 12. Victoire remained with us. I gave her a portrait of Isabel, her horse. At 1 we lunched. Victoire stayed till ½ past 2. At ½ past 2 came the Royal Family. The Queen gave me a pair of diamond earrings from the King. She gave me herself a brooch of turquoises and gold in the form of a bow. Aunt Augusta gave me a box of sandal-wood. From Aunt Gloucester, Aunt Sophia, and Uncle Sussex, a féronière of pearls. From Aunt Sophia alone, a bag worked by herself. From the Duke of Gloucester, a gold inkstand. From the Duke and Duchess of Cumberland, a bracelet of turquoise; and the Duchess brought me a turquoise pin from my cousin George Cumberland. From Princess Sophia Mathilda, a blue topaz watch-hook. From George Cambridge,[112] a brooch in the shape of a lily of the valley. Lady Mayo,[113] who was in waiting on the Queen, gave me a glass bottle. They stayed till ½ past 3 and then went away. I had seen in the course of the day, Sarah, my former maid, and Mrs. Brock. Ladies Emma and Georgiana Herbert[114] sent me a sachet for handkerchiefs worked by themselves. Ladies Sarah and Clementina Villiers[115] sent me some flowers as combs and a brooch. Mr. Collen sent me a little painting for my album. At a ¼ to 6 we dined. At ½ past 7 we went with Charles, the Duchess of Northumberland, Lady Catherine Jenkinson, Lehzen, Sir George Anson, and Sir John, to a Juvenile Ball that was given in honour of my birthday at St. James’s by the King and Queen. We went into the Closet. Soon after, the doors were opened, and the King leading me went into the ball-room. Madame Bourdin was there as dancing-mistress. Victoire was also there, as well as many other children whom I knew. Dancing began soon after. I danced first with my cousin George Cambridge, then with Prince George Lieven,[116] then with Lord Brook,[117] then Lord March,[118] then with Lord Athlone,[119] then with Lord Fitzroy Lennox,[120] then with Lord Emlyn.[121] We then went to supper. It was ½ past 11; the King leading me again. I sat between the King and Queen. We left supper soon. My health was drunk. I then danced one more quadrille with Lord Paget. I danced in all 8 quadrilles. We came home at ½ past 12. I was very much amused....

Sunday, 16th June.—I awoke at 7 and got up at ½ past 7. At a ¼ to 9 we breakfasted. At 10 we went to prayers. At 10 came Victoire and went to prayers with us. The service was performed by Mr. Pittman, as the poor Dean had the misfortune to lose his little girl Charlotte, of the scarlet fever, which I was very sorry for. Mr. Pittman gave us a beautiful sermon. It was taken from the 11th chapter of the Gospel of St. Luke, 1st verse. At 1 we lunched. Victoire stayed till ½ past 2. At 3 arrived my two cousins, Princes Alexander and Ernst Würtemberg, sons of Mamma’s sister, my Aunt Antoinette.[122] They are both extremely tall. Alexander is very handsome and Ernst has a very kind expression. They are both extremely amiable. At 4 we went out driving in the open carriage. We paid a visit to Aunt Gloucester, and then drove home through the park. We came home at a ¼ to 6. At a ¼ past 7 we dined. Besides Alexander, Ernst and Charles, Prince Reuss[123] and Sir John dined here....

Thursday, 27th June.—At ½ past 9 we went to the Exhibition of the water-colours, with Alexander and Lehzen in our carriage, and Sir John in another. We met the Duchess of Northumberland there. It is a very fine exhibition. From there we went to the British Gallery, where the works of Sir Joshua Reynolds, West, and Sir Thomas Lawrence are exhibiting. We came home at ½ past 11. At 1 we lunched. At 2 came Lady Stafford with her two little girls, Elizabeth[124] and Evelyn,[125] and Lady Caroline[126] with her little Georgiana. All beautiful children. At ½ past 4 we drove out in the park, and walked home through the gardens. We came home at ½ past 5. At 7 we all dined. Sir John dined here. At a little after 9 we went, with Alexander and Lehzen in our carriage, and Ernst, Charles and Sir John in another carriage following, to the Opera. We came in at the beginning of the 2nd act of Norma, in which Madame Pasta sung beautifully. After that Signor Paganini played by himself some variations, most wonderfully; he is himself a curiosity. After that was given the last act of Otello; Desdemona, Madame Malibran,[127] who sang and acted beautifully. After that was performed La Sylphide; Taglioni danced beautifully and looked lovely. Fanny Elsler danced also very well. We saw the whole of the 1st act and half of the second. It was Laporte’s benefit. I was very much amused. We came home at ½ past 1. I was soon in bed and asleep....

Monday, 1st July.—I awoke at ½ past 4 and got up at a ¼ past 5. At a ¼ past 6 we all breakfasted. At 7 o’clock we left Kensington Palace, Sir John going in a post-chaise before us, then our post-chaise, then Lehzen’s landau, then my Cousins’ carriage, then Charles’s, then Lady Conroy’s, and then our maids’. It is a lovely morning. 5 minutes past 8—we have just changed horses at Esher. Lynedoch Gardiner[128] brought us a basket full of beautiful flowers. 10 o’clock; we have just changed horses at Guildford. Poor dear little Dashy could not go with us as he was not quite well, so he is gone with Mason with the horses. 4 minutes past 1; we have just left Liphook where we took our luncheon. 5 minutes to 2, we have just changed horses at Petersfield. 5 minutes to 3, we have just changed horses at Horndean. At 4 we arrived at Portsmouth. The streets were lined with soldiers, and Sir Colin Campbell[129] rode by the carriage. Sir Thomas Williams,[130] the Admiral, took us in his barge, on board the dear Emerald. The Admiral presented some of the officers to us. We stayed about ½ an hour waiting for the baggage to be put on board the steamer, which was to tow us. We then set off and arrived at Cowes at about 7. We were most civilly received. Cowes Castle, the yacht-club, yachts, &c., &c., saluting us. We saw Lord Durham[131] who is staying at Cowes. We drove up in a fly to Norris Castle, where we lodged two years ago, and where we are again living. My cousins and my brother were delighted with it. At about ½ past 7 we all dined. Lady Conroy and her family went to their cottage after dinner....

Monday, 8th July.—At about 10 we went on board the Emerald with Alexander, Ernst, Lady Charlotte, Lady Conroy, Jane, Victoire, Sir John and Henry. We were towed up to Southampton by the Medina steam-packet. It rained several times very hard, and we were obliged to go down into the cabin very often. When we arrived at Southampton, Mamma received an address on board from the Corporation. We then got into the barge and rowed up to the new pier. The crowd was tremendous. We went into a tent erected on the pier, and I was very much frightened for fear my cousins and the rest of our party should get knocked about; however they at last got in. We then got into our barge and went on board the Emerald where we took our luncheon. We stayed a little while to see the regatta, which was going on, and then sailed home. It was a very wet afternoon. We came home at ½ past 5. At 7 we dined. Lady Conroy, Jane, Victoire, Sir John, and Henry dined here....

Friday, 12th July.—I awoke at 6 and got up at ½ past 6. At 7 we breakfasted. It was a sad breakfast, for us indeed, as my dear cousins were going so soon. At about a ¼ to 8 we walked down our pier with them and there took leave of them, which made us both very unhappy. We saw them get into the barge, and watched them sailing away for some time on the beach. They were so amiable and so pleasant to have in the house; they were always satisfied, always good humoured; Alexander took such care of me in getting out of the boat, and rode next to me; so did Ernst. They talked about such interesting things, about their Turkish Campaign, about Russia, &c., &c. We shall miss them at breakfast, at luncheon, at dinner, riding, sailing, driving, walking, in fact everywhere.

About two hours after my cousins had gone, Mamma received the distressing news that my cousins’ father, the Duke Alexander of Würtemberg,[132] who had been ill for some time, was dead. I was extremely sorry for them. Mamma immediately dispatched an estafette after them to Dover with the news. At 1 we lunched. It was a dull luncheon. At 4 we went out riding with Lady Charlotte, Lady Conroy, Jane, Victoire, Sir John and Henry. Victoire rode Alice, and Lehzen Isabel. The ride would have appeared to me much pleasanter had Alexander and Ernst been there. We came home at 6. We heard from a servant of ours, who had crossed over with them to Portsmouth, that they had had a very quick and good passage and that they had not been at all sick. At 7 we dined. Lady Conroy, Jane, Victoire, Sir John, Edward, and Henry dined here. Here again they were missing....

Thursday, 18th July.—At a ¼ to 10 we went on board the Emerald with Lady Charlotte, Lady Conroy, Jane, Victoire, Lehzen, and Sir John, and were towed by the Messenger steam-packet up to Portsmouth. We then got into the Admiral’s barge, and landed in the docks. We then saw from an elevation, the launch of the Racer, a sloop of war. We then re-entered the Admiral’s barge and went to the Victory, his flag-ship. We there received the salute on board. We saw the spot where Nelson fell, and which is covered up with a brazen plate and his motto is inscribed on it, “Every Englishman is expected to do his duty.” We went down as low as the tanks, and there tasted the water which had been in there for two years, and which was excellent. We also saw the place where Nelson died. The whole ship is remarkable for its neatness and order. We tasted some of the men’s beef and potatoes, which were excellent, and likewise some grog. The company consisted of Lady Williams, the Admiral’s lady, Sir Graham and Lady Moore,[133] Mr. and Mrs. Ricardo, Sir Frederick and Lady Maitland,[134] etc., etc. We then partook of a luncheon at the Admiral’s House and then returned on board the Emerald. We got home by 5. We both wished so much that dear Alexander and dear Ernest had been there, I think it would have amused them....

Friday, 2nd August.—I awoke at about a ¼ to 6 and got up at ½ past 7. At ½ past 8 we all breakfasted. We then saw several ladies and gentlemen. At about ½ past 9 we went on board the dear little Emerald. We were to be towed up to Plymouth. Mamma and Lehzen were very sick, and I was sick for about ½ an hour. At 1 I had a hot mutton chop on deck. We passed Dartmouth. At about 4 we approached Plymouth Harbour. It is a magnificent place and the breakwater is wonderful indeed. You pass Mount Edgecumbe, the seat of Lord Mount Edgecumbe.[135] It is beautifully situated. The Admiral, Sir William Hargood,[136] Captain Falkland his flag-captain, and Mr. Yorke[137] came on board. Captain Brown, who is on board the Caledonia, and Captain Macay, on board the Revenge, also came on board. As we entered the harbour, our dear little Emerald ran foul of a hulk, her mast broke and we were in the greatest danger. Thank God! the mast did not fall and no one was hurt. But I was dreadfully frightened for Mamma and for all. The poor dear Emerald is very much hurt I fear. Saunders was not at all in fault; he saved us by pulling the rope which fixed us to the steamer. We arrived at Plymouth at 5. It is a beautiful town and we were very well received. Sweet Dash was under Saunders’s arm the whole time, but he never let him drop in all the danger. At 7 we dined. The hotel is very fine indeed. After dinner Sir John saw Saunders, who said that the mast of the Emerald was broken in two places, and that we had had the narrowest escape possible; but that she would be repaired and ready for us to go back in her on Tuesday.

Saturday, 3rd August.—At 10 came Sir John Cameron,[138] the Governor, and his officers. At ½ past 10 came Sir William Hargood and his officers and captains. Soon after came Lord Hill, who is over here to inspect the troops, and Sir John Macdonald,[139] Sir Richard Jackson, and Captain Hill. At ½ past 11 Mamma received an address from the Mayor and Corporation of Plymouth, downstairs in a large room full of people. At 12 we went with all our own party to a review of the 89th, the 22nd, and the 84th regiments. Mamma made a speech, and I then gave the colours to the 89th regiment. The names of the two Ensigns to whom I gave the colours are Miles and Egerton. We then saw them march by in line. We then went to the Admiral’s house where we had our luncheon, and then proceeded to the docks. We went in the Admiral’s barge on board the Admiral’s flag-ship, the St. Joseph, taken by Lord Nelson from the Spanish, in the battle of St. Vincent. We received a salute on board. She is a magnificent vessel of 120 guns. We saw her lower decks and cabins, which are extremely light, airy, roomy and clean. We then returned in the Admiral’s barge, rowed round the Caledonia 120 guns, and the Revenge 76 guns. We landed at the Dockyard and went home. At 7 we dined....

End of my third Journal-book. Norris Castle, August 11th, 1833....

Monday, 16th September.—At 10 we went on board the Emerald with Lady Catherine, Lady Conroy, Jane, Lehzen, Victoire, and Sir John, and sailed to Portsmouth, where we were going to pay a visit to their Majesties the Queen of Portugal[140] and the Duchess of Braganza (her step-mother). We got there at ½ past 11. We entered the Admiral’s barge with Lady Catherine, Lady Conroy, Lehzen, and Sir John, and were rowed ashore. We landed at the stairs in the dockyard. Mamma and I got into a close carriage, and our ladies followed in an open carriage. The whole way from the dock-yard to the Admiral’s house, where their Majesties reside, was lined with troops and various bands were placed at different distances. We were received at the door by the gentlemen and ladies of the court. Inside the hall we were met by the Queen and the Duchess. The Queen led Mamma, and the Duchess followed leading me into the room. The Queen was in England 4 years ago; she is only a month older than I am and is very kind to me. She was then already very tall for her age, but had a very beautiful figure; she is grown very tall but also very stout. She has a beautiful complexion, and is very sweet and friendly. She wore her hair in two large curls in front and a thick fine plait turned up behind. The Empress (or Duchess as she is now called) was never before in England. She is only 21 and is very pleasing. She has beautiful blue eyes, and has a fine tall figure. She has black hair and wore ringlets in front and a plait behind. She was simply dressed in a grey watered moire trimmed with blonde. Their Majesties arrived at Portsmouth from Havre on the morning of the 8th of September; and proceeded to Windsor on the 10th, on a visit to the King and Queen, from whence they returned last Saturday, and they intend leaving Portsmouth to-day at 2 o’clock for Lisbon. The Queen and Duchess having desired us to sit down, talked some time with us. The Duchess then went and fetched her little girl, a child of 21 months old. We soon after went, the Queen leading Mamma and the Duchess me in the same manner as before. We returned in the same way. We lunched on board the Emerald and then were towed by the Messenger home. We came home at 3....

Monday, 14th October.— ... Ferdinand the 7th of Spain[141] died on the 29th of September, and his young and lovely Queen Christina instantly became Regent for the infant Queen Isabella the 2nd, her daughter, and who is only 3 years old. The Queen has a powerful enemy in Don Carlos and his wife, but she is very courageous and very clever. It is a singular coincidence that there should be a young Queen in Spain as well as in Portugal. At 7 we 4 dined. I stayed up till 9....

Monday, 9th December.—At 5 we dined. Sir John dined here. At ½ past 6 we went to the play to Drury Lane with Lady Conroy, Lehzen, and Sir John. It was Shakespear’s tragedy of King John. The principal characters were: King John, Mr. Macready,[142] who acted beautifully; Prince Arthur, Miss Poole, who acted delightfully; Hubert, Mr. Bennett who acted well; Faulconbridge, Mr. Cooper, who also acted well; Philip King of France, Mr. Diddear; Louis the Dauphin, Mr. Brendal; Archduke of Austria, Mr. Thompson; Queen Elinor, Mrs. Faucit[143]; the Lady Constance, Mrs. Sloman; Blanche of Castile, Miss Murray. The second piece was the melo-drama of The Innkeeper’s Daughter, which is very horrible but extremely interesting, but it would take me too much time to relate the story of it. The characters were: Richard, Mr. Cooper, who acted very well; Frankland, Mr. Ayliffe; Monkton, Mr. Thompson; Langley, Mr. Tayleure; Harrop, Mr. Webster,[144] who looked horrid but acted well; he was one of the leading characters in the play; Edward Harrop, Mr. Richardson; Wentworth, Mr. Baker; Hans Ketzler, Mr. T. P. Cooke, who acted very well; Tricksey, Mr. Hughes; William, Mr. Howell; White, Mr. East; Smith, Mr. Henry; Allsop, Mr. S. Jones; Mary, Miss Kelly,[145] who acted quite beautifully; she is quite mature. Marian, Mrs. Broad. We came to the very beginning and stayed to the very end. We came home at 10 minutes past 12. I was very much amused....

Thursday, 26th December.—I awoke at 7 and got up at 8. At 9 we breakfasted. At 1 we lunched. At ½ past 2 came Captain Burnes who has lately travelled over Northern East India. He gave us some very interesting accounts. He likewise brought with him to show us, his servant, a native of Cabul, dressed in his native dress. He is called Gulam Hussein; is of a dark olive complexion and had a dress of real Cashmere made in the beautiful valley of Cashmere.

Friday, 27th December.—At ½ past 2 came Mr. T. Griffiths to lecture on Physics. The plan of the lecture was: Introductory—Objects of Alchymy, viz. Transmutation of Metals, the Elixir of Life, and the Universal Solvent;—Objects of Chemistry, viz. the investigation of every substance in nature—Chemistry a science of experiment—Results of chemical action—Arts and Manufactures dependent on chemistry—Importance of Heat as a chemical agent—Its action on various substances—Conductors and Non-conductors of Heat—Nature of Flame. All these different subjects were illustrated by very curious and interesting experiments. It was over at ½ past 3. Lehzen, Lady Conroy, Victoire, the Dean, and Sir John were likewise present. I was very much amused....

Monday, 30th December.—I awoke at 7 and got up at 8. At 9 we breakfasted. At 1 we lunched. At ½ past 2 came Mr. Walker to lecture. The plan of the lecture was: Properties of Matter—Particles infinitely small, divisible, and hard—Cohesion—Capillary attraction, Magnetic attraction, &c., &c.—Repulsion exhibited in various ways, as counteracting the preceding influences—Recapitulation—Mechanics: Gravity considered, its effects on descending and projected bodies—National weights and measures—Vis inertia, momentum, what—Mechanical Powers, explained by various machines, applications, &c. &c.—Draft of horses—Defect of wheel carriages, road, &c. pointed out—Some improvements suggested—Removal of Great Stone of St. Petersburg. The lecture lasted till a ¼ to 4. Lehzen, Lady Conroy, the Dean, and Sir John were present besides ourselves. At a ¼ to 7 we dined. Sir John dined here. At a ¼ past 8 we went with Lehzen, Lady Conroy, and Sir John to the play to Covent Garden. We came in for the last scene of Gustavus, the Masqued Ball, and stayed the whole of the pantomime, which is called “Old Mother Hubbard and her Dog; or Harlequin and Tales of the Nursery.” The scenery was very pretty and the principal characters were: Venus, Miss Lee; Cupid, Miss Poole who appeared in three other dresses: as a peasant boy, as a drummer, and as Mother Hubbard, and she looked very pretty and acted very well indeed. Old Mother Hubbard, Mr. Wieland; Schock (her dog), Master W. Mitchinson. The Duchess Griffinwinkle Blowsabella (afterwards Pantaloon), Mr. Barnes. King Rundytundy O (afterwards Dandy Lover), Mr. W. H. Payne. The Princess Graciosa (afterwards Columbine), a very pretty person, Miss Foster. Prince Percineth (afterwards Harlequin) Mr. Ellar. Head Cook (afterwards Clown) Mr. T. Mathews. The panorama at the end was also pretty.

INTRODUCTORY NOTE TO CHAPTER III

The year 1834 was spent very quietly by Princess Victoria. Her education progressed in simple and placid grooves, but her visits to the opera and the theatre became more frequent. She became devoted to Italian opera, and formed an attachment to music of the Italian school from which even Prince Albert, steeped as he was in German music, never contrived to wean her. She accepted then, and ever afterwards, Giulia Grisi as the supreme singer and artist. From the month of June, when she was present at a Festival in Westminster Abbey, to the end of the autumn, she devoted herself, at St. Leonards and at Tunbridge Wells, to the study of music and singing and to practising upon the harp.

This year the Whig Ministry of Lord Grey tottered and fell. In July King William, much to the surprise of politicians on both sides, entrusted Lord Melbourne with the formation of a Government. The King wanted a coalition and made a tentative effort to achieve it, but he did not succeed in obtaining the co-operation of either Party. It was not anticipated that Lord Melbourne’s Government could last. In the month of November Lord Spencer died, and Lord Althorp, his son, who was Chancellor of the Exchequer, seized with unrestrained delight the opportunity to retire from public life. Lord Melbourne thereupon resigned, and Sir Robert Peel, returning hurriedly from Rome, formed an administration likewise destined to be short-lived.

If King William had some difficulty in finding a stable Ministry, his brother-monarch across the Channel was in no better plight. The Parliamentary difficulties in France reached a stage of such complexity, that it looked for a moment as if the French monarchy itself might succumb to the vehemence of political and partisan strife. The Citizen-King found it necessary to employ 100,000 troops to keep in awe the three cities of Paris, Marseilles, and Lyons. At this moment died Lafayette, one of the last links between the opening and concluding discords of the French Revolution. It was during this year that two foreigners of eminence, long resident in England, finally disappeared from London society. Princess Lieven left the Russian, and Talleyrand the French Embassy.

This year, too, saw the destruction, by fire, of the old Houses of Parliament, associated with so many historic memories. None of these events, however, caused a ripple upon the surface of the little Princess’s secluded life at Kensington.

CHAPTER III
1834

Thursday, 16th January.—About a fortnight or three weeks ago I received the Order of Maria Louisa, accompanied by a very flattering letter from Her Majesty the Queen Regent of Spain, in the name of her daughter Queen Isabel the 2nd. Having some time ago asked for the handwriting of Her Majesty for my collection, the Queen hearing of it, sent me the Order accompanied by a very gracious letter. The Order is a violet and white ribbon, to which is suspended (en négligé) an enamel sort of star, and in high dress one superbly studded with diamonds.[146]

Sunday, 13th April.—At 10 we went to prayers with Lady Theresa[147] and Lehzen. The service was performed by the Dean, who gave us likewise a very good sermon. It was taken from the 3rd chapter of Acts, 23rd verse: “For Moses truly said unto the fathers, a Prophet shall the Lord your God raise up unto you of your brethren, like unto me; him shall ye hear in all things whatsoever he shall say unto you. And it shall come to pass, that every soul, which will not hear that prophet, shall be destroyed from among the people.” At 1 we lunched. At 7 we 3 and Lady Theresa also dined. After dinner came Aunt Sophia. I stayed up till a ¼ to 9.

Monday, 14th April.—I awoke at 7 and got up at ½ past 7. At ½ past 8 we all breakfasted. As I am now about to return to my usual studies, I must not omit to mention how very anxious my dear Mamma was throughout my indisposition, and how unceasing dear Lehzen was in her attentions and care to me....

Saturday, 19th April.—I awoke at 7 and got up at 8. At 9 we breakfasted. At ½ past 9 came the Dean till ½ past 10. At 12 we went out walking. At 1 we lunched. At ½ past 2 came the Duchess of Northumberland. At 3 came Lady Robert Grosvenor[148] with her little girl Victoria. She is a dear little child, so clever and intelligent. At 4 came Mrs. Anderson till 5. At 6 we dined. At a ¼ past 7 we went with Lady Conroy, Lehzen and Sir John to the Opera. We came in just at the beginning of the Opera of Anna Boulena. The characters were: Anna Boulena, Mdlle. Guiletta Grisi.[149] She is a most beautiful singer and actress and is likewise very young and pretty. She sang beautifully throughout but particularly in the last scene when she is mad, which she acted likewise beautifully. Giovanna Seymour, Mrs. E. Seguin, who sings very well. Enrico, Signor Tambourini, who sang beautifully. Ricardo Percy, M. Ivanhoff, who sings very well. He has a very pleasing though not a very strong voice. Between the acts there was a divertissement, in which Mdlle. Theresa Elsler danced a pas de deux with Mons. T. Guerinot, and Mdlle. Fanny Elsler with M. Perrot. Mdlle. Fanny danced beautifully; she ran up the stage on the tips of her toes in a most extraordinary manner. She likewise made many other pretty little steps. M. Perrot (whom I had never seen before) danced likewise quite beautifully. We went away as soon as the 2nd act of the opera was over. We came home at 12. I was very much amused indeed!...

Saturday, 26th April.—I awoke at 7 and got up at a ¼ to 8. At 9 we breakfasted. At ½ past 9 came the Dean till 11. The Duchess of Northumberland was present. At 12 we went to pay a visit to Aunt Gloucester. At 1 we lunched. At 3 came Mr. Steward till 4. At 4 came Mrs. Anderson till 5. At 6 we dined. Sir John dined here. At a ¼ past 7 we went with Lehzen and Sir John to the Opera. We came in just at the beginning of the opera of Otello. The characters were: Otello, Signor Rubini who sang quite beautifully and acted very well. Iago, Signor Tambourini who sung likewise beautifully. Rodrigo, M. Ivanhoff who sung very well.——Signor Zuchello. Desdemona, Signora Giuletta Grisi. She sang and acted quite beautifully! and looked lovely. She acted and sang most sweetly and beautifully in the last scene; and also in the two trios in the 1st and 2nd acts. When the opera was over she was called for, and she came on, led by Rubini. At that moment a wreath of roses with a small roll of paper inside was thrown on the stage; Rubini picked it up and placed it on her head. They were very much applauded. We came away directly after the opera. Lord Ilchester[150] and Lady Theresa joined us there. We came home at a ¼ to 12. I was very much amused indeed!!!...

Monday, 28th April.—I awoke at 7 and got up at a ¼ to 8. At a ¼ to 9 we breakfasted. At ½ past 9 came the Dean till a ¼ past 11. The Duchess of Northumberland was present. At 12 Lehzen and I drove out. At 1 we lunched. At 3 came Mr. Steward till 4. I then went to the painting room. At 7 we dined. After dinner while we were playing on the piano, arrived Uncle Ferdinand[151] and Charles.[152] Uncle Ferdinand is Mamma’s second brother and she had not seen him for 16 years! I have now seen all my uncles, except Uncle Mensdorff[153] (Aunt Sophie’s husband), for Mamma’s eldest brother, Uncle Ernest,[154] was here 3 years ago, the same year Uncle Leopold went to Belgium. Charles is looking very well and is grown much fatter. Uncle Ferdinand is not at all like my other Uncles. He is fair. It is a great pleasure for me to see both Uncle Ferdinand and Charles. I stayed up till 9....

Thursday, 5th June.—At 11 arrived my dearest sister Feodora whom I had not seen for 6 years. She is accompanied by Ernest, her husband, and her two eldest children Charles and Eliza. Dear Feodora looks very well but is grown much stouter since I saw her. She was married on the 18th of February 1828 and went away to Germany a week after and she never came here again since. Hohenlohe looks also very well. As for the children they are the dearest little loves I ever saw. Charles is 4 years and a half old. He is very tall and is a sweet good-tempered little fellow. He is not handsome but he is a very nice-looking boy. He has light blue eyes and fair hair. Eliza is 3 years and a half old; she is also very tall and is a perfect little beauty. She has immense dark brown eyes and a very small mouth and light brown hair. She is very clever and amusing. We then showed her their rooms, and afterwards, at ½ past 12, we went to see the dear children take their dinner. They took it with Mr. Rol, Charles’s tutor. At 1 we all lunched, that is to say, Mamma, dear Feodore, Ernst Hohenlohe, Charly, Lehzen, and I. After luncheon, Feodore and the others went upstairs. At 2 Charles and Eliza came down and stayed with us alone. They are dear sweet children; not at all shy and so good; they never hurt or spoil anything. At a little after 2 came Lady Westminster.[155] The dear children behaved so well. They are so very sensible. They staid till after 3. Eliza speaks German and French very nicely. She has a French Swiss bonne called Louise who speaks French with her. At ½ past 4 we went out driving with dear Feodore and Lehzen. We came home at 6. At 7 we dined. Besides dearest Feodore, Ernest, Charles and Lehzen, Sir J. Conroy dined here. When the 2nd course was put on, Charles and Eliza came in, and staid there. They were very funny and amusing and talked immensely. They staid up till ½ past 8. At ½ past 9 we went to the Opera with Ernst Hohenlohe, Charles, Lehzen, and Sir John Conroy, poor dear Feodora being too tired to go. We came in at about the middle of the 2nd act of Rossini’s Opera of L’Assiedo di Corrinto. It is in 3 acts. The principal characters are: Mahomet (Emperor of the Turks), Signor Tamburini, who sang beautifully and looked very well. Cleomene (Governor of Corrinto), Mons. Ivanoff who likewise sang very well. Nioclene, Signor Rubini who also sang quite beautifully. Pamira, Mdlle. Giuletta Grisi, who sang quite beautifully and acted and looked extremely well. It was Laporte’s benefit, and the first time this opera was ever performed in this country. Then followed the 2nd act of La Sylphide in which Taglioni made her first appearance since an absence of some months. She danced quite beautifully, quite as if she flew in the air, so gracefully and lightly. She looked also very well. There was also a Pas de Trois danced by Mdlles. Theresa and Fanny Elsler and Mons. Theodore. Mdlle. Fanny danced beautifully. We came home at 10 minutes to 1. There is only one thing wanting to my happiness in being with my dear sister and her children, that is that I cannot share that happiness with one whom I love so very dearly but who is far far away—that is my most dear Uncle Ferdinand....

H.S.H. Princess Adelaide
of Hohenlohe-Langenburg
from a portrait by Gutekunst

Wednesday, 11th June.—Dear little Eliza and Charles came down to breakfast. Eliza came into my room and staid with me for some time. She is a dear good little girl. At 1 we lunched. Eliza came again into my room and staid with me for nearly an hour. At 3 we went with Lady Flora Hastings[156] and Lehzen to Windsor on a visit to their Majesties. We were very sorry to leave the dear children. At a ¼ past 5 we arrived at Windsor. The Queen, dear Feodore, Ernest and several ladies and gentlemen of the court, received us at the door and conducted us upstairs to the Queen’s room, where the King was. I was very happy to see my dear sister again. Some time afterwards the Queen conducted us to our rooms which are very handsome. At 7 we dined. Besides the King and Queen, Feodore and Ernest, Mamma and I, Lady Flora and Lehzen, there dined there: George Cambridge, the Duke and Duchess of Richmond,[157] the Duchess of Northumberland, the Duke of Grafton,[158] the Duke of Dorset,[159] the Duke of Cleveland,[160] the Marquis and Marchioness of Conyngham,[161] Lady Clinton (Lady of the Bedchamber in Waiting), Lord and Lady Frederick Fitzclarence,[162] Lord Denbigh,[163] Lady Sophia Sidney,[164] Miss Eden,[165] Miss Hope Johnston, Miss Wilson, Lord Albemarle,[166] Sir Frederick Watson, Colonel Lygon,[167] Mr. Wood,[168] &c., &c. The Queen went first with Ernest, then came the King who led Mamma and I in, and then came Feodore with the Duke of Richmond. The rest I do not recollect. I sat between the King and the Duke of Dorset. I stayed up till ½ past 9.

Thursday, 12th June.—I awoke at 7 and got up at a ¼ to 8. At ½ past 9 we breakfasted, with the King, the Queen, Feodore, Ernest, George Cambridge, the Duchess of Northumberland, and Lady Clinton. All the other ladies breakfasted together. We then went into the Queen’s room. At a ¼ past 12 we went to Ascot Races with the whole company in 9 carriages. In the first went the King, the Queen, Mamma and I. In the second Feodore, the Duchess of Richmond, the Duchess of Northumberland and Lady Clinton. In the third Lady Flora, Lady Sophia Sydney, the Duke of Richmond, and the Duke of Cleveland. In the fourth Lehzen, Miss Hope Johnston, the Duke of Grafton, and the Duke of Dorset. How all the others went I do not know. At about 1 we arrived on the race course and entered the King’s stand with all our party. The races were very good and there was an immense concourse of people there of all ranks. At about ½ past 2 we had luncheon. At a little after 6 we left the stand and returned to the castle in the same way as we came except that, as it rained very hard, we came home in shut carriages. At 7 we arrived at the castle. At ½ past 7 we dined. The company at dinner were the same as yesterday with the exception of Lord and Lady Conyngham not dining here, and a few other gentlemen having dined here. We went in in the same way. I sat between the King and the Duke of Cleveland. I stayed up till a ¼ to 11. I was very much amused indeed at the races....

Sunday, 27th July.—At 9 we breakfasted. How sad I felt at breakfast not to see the door open and dear Feodore come in smiling and leading her dear little girl; and not to get the accustomed morning kiss from her. At 11 we went to the chapel with Lehzen, Lady Conroy, and Victoire. The Bishop of London preached a very fine sermon. Victoire Conroy stayed till ½ past 2. At 1 we lunched. I missed dear Feodore here again terribly. I miss her so much to-day. She used to be with me so much on Sunday always. We used to talk together so pleasantly. Last Sunday afternoon she painted in my room. At ½ past 3 we went with Lehzen to visit Aunt Gloucester, and then drove home through the park. How dull that drive appeared to me without dear Feodore. We came home at ½ past 5. At 7 we dined. After dinner came Aunt Sophia. We passed a sad dull evening. I stayed up till a ¼ to 9....

Sunday, 5th October.— ... The news were received a few days ago that Dom Pedro, Regent of Portugal,[169] was dead. He expired on the 24th instant, at the age of 35. His daughter, Donna Maria, the young Queen, though only 15, is declared of age and able to govern by herself. The lovely young Empress is left a widow at the age of 22 only. It is a sad situation both for the young Queen and the poor Empress, in whom both I take the greatest interest as I know them personally. I saw Dom Pedro when he was in England about 3 years ago. At 11 we went to church. At 1 we lunched. At ½ past 3 we went out driving with Lady Flora and Lehzen, in the pony-carriage. We came home in the large carriage at 6. At 7 we dined. Lady Conroy, Jane, Victoire, Sir J., Messrs. E., S., and H. C. dined here. I stayed up till ½ past 9....

St. Leonards, Wednesday, 4th November.—I said in my last journal book that I would describe in this book all what passed yesterday. We reached Battle Abbey at about a ¼ to 1. We were received at the door by Lady Webster.[170] Battle Abbey was built by King William the Conqueror and stands on the site where the famous battle of Hastings was fought. The place is still preserved where Harold fell. She showed us first into a large hall supposed to be the highest in England. There are portraits of King Charles the 2nd, King William the 3rd, and Queen Anne in it, &c. &c. There is also a very large picture of the battle of Hastings. Some old suits of armour are also in the hall. We saw also what were the cloisters now turned into a room. We saw the Beggars’ Hall, a curious walk of the monks, and the garden. We lastly partook of some refreshment in a very pretty room in which there was a picture of the Emperor Napoleon, not full length, only to the waist; which is said to be very like. The outside of the abbey is very fine too. We left it again at ½ past 1. The tenants again accompanied us till Broadeslowe. There some gentlemen from Hastings met us and accompanied us to St. Leonards. We passed under an arch formed of laurels and decorated with flowers and inscriptions. As soon as we passed the 2nd arch the Mayor got out of his carriage and came to our door asking leave to precede us in his carriage. An immense concourse of people walking with the carriage. The mayor and aldermen preceding us in carriages as also a band of music. Throughout Hastings the houses were decorated with flowers, ribands and inscriptions, and arches of flowers and laurels. Ladies and children waving handkerchiefs and laurels on the balconies and at the windows. Cries of “Welcome, welcome, Royal visitors,” were constantly heard. We reached Hastings at ½ past 2, and it was 4 o’clock before we arrived at our house at St. Leonards. It was indeed a most splendid reception. We stepped out on the balcony and were loudly cheered. One sight was extremely pretty. Six fishermen in rough blue jackets, red caps and coarse white aprons, preceded by a band, bore a basket ornamented with flowers, full of fish as a present for us. We found dear Dashy in perfect health. Our house is very comfortable. At 6 we dined. Lady Conroy, Jane, Victoire, Messrs. E., S., H., and Sir J. C. dined here. After 8 the fireworks began and lasted till 9. They were very fine. I stayed up till 9.

Thursday, 5th November.—I awoke this morning at 7 and got up at ½ past 7. At 9 we breakfasted. At 12 Mamma received an address from the Mayor, Corporation, and Inhabitants of Hastings and St. Leonards. After 1 we lunched. At 7 we dined. Lady Conroy, Jane, Victoire, Messrs. E., S., and Sir J. C. dined here.

Tuesday, 11th November.— ... At ½ past 11 we went out driving in the barouche with Lady Flora and Lehzen. We got out and walked and sent the barouche home. We afterwards got into the close landau with a postilion and horse in hand. As we came to the commencement of the town where a seminary is to be built, the hand-horse kicked up and getting entangled in the traces fell down, pulling the other with it; the horse with the postilion however instantly recovered itself but the other remained on the ground kicking and struggling most violently. Two gentlemen very civilly came and held the horse’s head down while we all got out as fast as possible. I called for poor dear little Dashy who was in the rumble; Wood (our footman) took him down and I ran on with him in my arms calling Mamma to follow, Lehzen and Lady Flora followed us also. They then cut the traces, the horse still struggling violently. The other horse which had been quite quiet, being frightened by the other’s kicking, backed and fell over into a foundation pit, while Wood held him, and he (Wood) with difficulty prevented himself from falling; the horse recovering himself ran after us and we instantly ran behind a low stone wall; but the horse went along the road, and a workman took him and gave him to Wood. The other horse had ceased kicking and got up. We ought to be most grateful to Almighty God for His merciful providence in thus preserving us, for it was a very narrow escape. Both Wood and Bacleberry behaved very well indeed. The names of the two gentlemen who held the horse’s head are Rev. Mr. Gould and Mr. Peckham Micklethwaite.[171] The latter I am sorry to say was hurt, but not very materially. The poor horse is cut from head to foot; but the other is not at all hurt only very much frightened. We walked home....

Sunday, 30th November.— ... We went to church with Lady Flora and Lehzen. Mr. Randolph preached a most beautiful sermon. It was taken from the 6th chapter of St. Paul’s 2nd Epistle to the Corinthians, 1st and 2nd verses. “We then, as workers together with Him, beseech you also that ye receive not the grace of God in vain. For He saith, I have heard thee in a time accepted, and in the day of salvation have I succoured thee: behold, now is the accepted time; behold, now is the day of salvation.” At 1 we lunched. At 3 came Victoire Conroy till a ¼ past 6. At 7 we dined. Jane, Victoire, Messrs. E., H., and Sir J. C. dined here.

Tuesday, 2nd December.—I awoke at 7 and got up at ½ past 7. We received this morning the news that my poor Uncle, the Duke of Gloucester,[172] was dead. He expired on Sunday evening, the 30th of November, 1834, at 20 minutes to 7. I am very sorry that we have lost him as he was always a most affectionate and kind Uncle to me. Aunt Mary, I hear, bears her loss wonderfully. Poor Aunt Sophia Matilda, his only sister and who was excessively fond of him, is dreadfully distressed at losing her only brother. But her piety will enable her to bear this great loss. He was so kind to think of us the morning before he died. Aunt S. Matilda told him that we had asked how he was, upon which he answered, “Tell them that I say, God bless them, and that I love them.” This kind message proved the quiet state of mind he was in. He showed such piety, such peace and resignation, that that proved a great comfort to his poor sister. He was in his 59th year....

Tuesday, 23rd December.— ... I received from dear Uncle Leopold this morning some most interesting autographs which are: Louis Seize’s, Marie Antoinette’s, Henri IV.’s, the Duke of Marlborough’s, the Empress Maria Theresa’s and her husband’s, and Lafayette’s....

Sunday, 28th December.—I awoke at 7 and got up at 20 minutes to 8. At 9 we breakfasted. At 11 we went to church with Lady Flora and Lehzen. Mr. Randolph preached a very fine sermon. It was taken from the 1st chapter of St. Matthew, 21st verse: “And she shall bring forth a Son, and thou shalt call His name Jesus: for He shall save His people from their sins.” At ½ past 1 we lunched. I forgot to mention that I received this morning a very kind letter from dear Uncle Leopold, accompanied by a beautiful shawl and the autographs of Louis XV., his Queen, Marie Leczinska, and the Dauphin, father to Louis XVI. At ½ past 2 we went out with Lady Flora and Lehzen and came home after 3....

INTRODUCTORY NOTE TO CHAPTER IV

The Princess attached importance to this year of her life. It appeared to her that she benefited more fully by her lessons, and began to realise their importance. About a month after her birthday she was confirmed at the Chapel Royal, St. James’s, by the Archbishop of Canterbury. She was impressed by the solemnity of the occasion and frightened by the austerity of Archbishop Howley. This year marked an epoch in ways other than spiritual. She was allowed more freely to mix with her mother’s guests. Personages of distinction were asked to meet her, and she had an opportunity of seeing some of the more eminent of those who were to be her future subjects, although she had scant opportunity of getting to know them well.

She went to Ascot this year in the Royal Procession, and then, in the autumn, her mother arranged for her a Progress on the lines of that which is recorded in her Journals of 1832. There is nothing, however, to show that she was alive to the trend of public events. The existence of Lord Melbourne’s second Ministry was precarious. It was said that Lord Melbourne had against him the King, the Church, the Bar, the Agricultural and Monied interest, and a large minority in the House of Commons; whereas he only had in his favour a small majority in the House of Commons, the manufacturing towns, and a portion of the rabble. This was the Tory analysis of the political situation in 1835. “Threatened men and threatened Ministries enjoy a long life,” and Lord Melbourne’s was no exception.

The Princess was in frequent communication by letter with her Uncle, King Leopold. He sent her many interesting autographs for the collection she at that time was forming. They corresponded about books. It was he who recommended her Sully’s Memoirs, which, as her Journals show, she assiduously read, and he now and then referred in admonitory terms to her future regal responsibilities and duties.

On one occasion he sent her an extract from a French Memoir containing a severe criticism on the political character of Queen Anne, to which she replied that as he had endeavoured to point out to her what a Queen “ought not to be,” she hoped he would give her some idea of what a Queen “ought to be.” Those who are familiar with the character and disposition of King Leopold can imagine that he responded willingly to the invitation. It was upon this note that the year 1835 came to an end.

CHAPTER IV
1835

Monday, 5th January.—I quite forgot to mention that on the morning of the 20th of November a ship laden with either coal or chalk sank, but all the crew came off safe. Lieutenant Gilley and five men put off in a boat from the 3rd Martello Tower, in hopes of being able to save some of the goods of the sunken ship. The sea was very high, the boat slight and over-loaded, and they had scarcely left the shore when the boat was upset and they were all six drowned! The poor sister of the Lieutenant is residing here. Three of the poor men were married and left their poor widows (all young) plunged in the greatest grief. The body of Weeks, one of the married men and who had 3 children, was found two days after, at Pevensey. The poor Lieutenant’s body was only found last Sunday, the 28th December, quite near here; and one of the other married men, called Conely, who had 4 children, was found the next morning near Hastings; and Andrews, the last married man, who had only been married a very short time, was found on Wednesday night, the 31st December, in the same place. It was a great gratification to the poor widows that their husbands’ bodies have been found. We saw two of them at a distance the other day. They are all very decent-looking, tidy and nice people. At a ¼ to 12 we went out walking with Lehzen till 1. As we walked along by the towers we met Mrs. Weeks, one of the widows, with her little girl. She had a widow-cap and bonnet on, and a Scotch cloak. She looks as pale as death but has a mild sweet expression....

Saturday, 24th January.—I awoke at 7 and got up at a ¼ past 8. At ½ past 9 we breakfasted. At 10 came the Dean till 20 minutes to 11. It was yesterday 15 years that it pleased God to take my most beloved Papa from us. Alas! I was but 6 months when this affliction came upon us; and I therefore never had the happiness to know him....

Tuesday, 27th January.—I awoke at ½ past 7, got up at a ¼ past 8. At ½ past 9 we breakfasted. At 1 we lunched. I ought to have mentioned that besides my lessons with the Dean (and also when my other masters come) I have many occupations with Lehzen. And now, though we are all in the bustle of packing, I am constantly employed by myself in various ways; and I read French History to Lehzen, and one of Racine’s tragedies with her in the afternoons which I delight in. I love to be employed; I hate to be idle....

Thursday, 29th January.—I awoke at ½ past 5 and got up at 7. At 8 we all breakfasted. At a ¼ to 9 we left St. Leonards. Dear Lehzen, Lady Flora, Lady Conroy &c. following in another carriage. All our acquaintances were out to see us go (except Mr. and Lady Mary Dundas).... For some reasons I am sorry we have left St. Leonards, which are, the nice walks, the absence of fogs, and looking out of my window and seeing the people walk on the esplanade, and seeing the sun rise and set, which was quite beautiful. The rising began by the sky being quite pink and blending softly into a bright blue, and the sun rose by degrees from a little red streak to a ball of red copper. The setting began by the whole horizon being orange, crimson and blue, and the sun sunk down a ball of fiery gold dyeing the sands crimson. But then again my reasons for not being sorry to go are, my not sleeping well there, my not having been well, and the roaring of the sea. We changed horses first at Battle, then at Stony Crouch, then at Woodgate, which was quite near dear Tunbridge, then at Sevenoaks, and lastly at Bromley. We reached Kensington Palace at 5. My room is very prettily newly papered, newly furnished, and has a new carpet, and looks very pretty indeed. Our bedroom also newly papered and furnished and looks very nice and clean. Pedro and my dear little wax-bills came quite safe. Dear Dashy was in our carriage and behaved like a darling....

Monday, 6th April.—The melancholy news were received yesterday of the death of the Prince Augustus, Duke of Leuchtenberg,[173] which happened on the 28th of March. It is a most lamentable and dreadful event. His Royal Highness was in his 25th year, and in the flower of his age. Young, amiable, good and well-meaning; for since his arrival at Lisbon he had won the hearts of many by his affability and good-nature. He caught a cold, which he neglected and it ended in the quinsy. It is really quite dreadful for the poor young Queen, who is now left a widow at the early age of 16! Her Majesty completed her 16th year on the 4th of this month. It is likewise dreadful for his amiable and accomplished sister the young Empress-widow, who is still in mourning for her husband, Dom Pedro; and also dreadful for his mother, the Duchess of Leuchtenberg. Not two months ago he was seen leading his young bride from the altar, and now all that prospect of happiness is cut off!...

Saturday, 2nd May.— ... At 6 we dined. Lady Flora dined here. At a ¼ past 7 we went to the opera with dear Lehzen and Lady Flora. It was Rossini’s opera seria of Otello in 3 acts. The characters were: Desdemona, Mdlle. Grisi, who looked beautiful and sung most exquisitely and acted beautifully. She personates the meek and ill-treated Desdemona in a most perfect and touching manner. Elmiro (a Venetian patrician and father to Desdemona), Signor Lablache who sang and acted beautifully.... The finest parts are: the song which Otello sings in the 1st scene of the 1st act, and which Rubini sang beautifully. The duet between Iago and Roderigo in the 1st act which Tamburini and Ivanoff sang beautifully together. The song which Desdemona sings when she first comes on in the first act, which begins “Stanca di più combattere,” and which Grisi sung most exquisitely! (It is not by Rossini; it is composed expressly for Grisi by Marliani.) The Finale to the 1st act which commences with that beautiful trio, “Ti parli l’amore,” between Elmiro, Roderigo, and Desdemona, which Lablache, Ivanoff and Grisi sang most beautifully. It was enchored. And when Otello comes on and declares her to be his wife and Elmiro in his rage exclaims: “Empia! ti maledico!” and which Lablache did in a manner most splendid while Desdemona falls at his feet. The Duet between Iago and Otello in the 2nd act which Tamburini and Rubini sang most beautifully. The duet between Roderigo and Otello which follows it and which was likewise beautifully sung. When Desdemona enquires from the people if Otello (who had fought with Roderigo) still lives, and when she exclaims in delight: “Altro non chiede il cor,” and which Grisi did in a most splendid manner; and when at the end of the 3rd act she kneels before her father and says, “L’error d’un infelice pietoso in me perdona: Se il padre m’abbandona, da chi sperar pieta?” which she did in a most touching manner. The song in the 3rd act with the harp which Grisi sung most beautifully, as also the prayer; and when Otello comes on to stab her and she reproaches him exclaiming: “Uccidimi se vuoi, perfido, ingrato”; which Grisi did in such a mild and pathetic manner. He then stabs her and immediately afterwards himself. Grisi and Rubini were called out and were loudly applauded. We came in before the overture was begun and came away directly after the opera was over. It is a beautiful opera and I like it much better than Anna Boulena....

Wednesday, 6th May.—I awoke at 7 and got up at 8. At a ¼ past 9 we breakfasted. At 11 we set off with Lady Flora and Lehzen for Windsor Castle, where we arrived at ½ past 1. At 2 we all lunched; that is to say, besides the Queen, the Landgravine,[174] and us two,—the Duchess of Northumberland, Lady Brownlow,[175] Lady Sophia Cust, Lady De Lisle,[176] Lady Falkland,[177] Lady Flora, Lehzen, the Baroness de Stein, Miss Mitchel, Miss Hudson, Lord Howe,[178] and Lord Denbigh.[179] At ½ past 2 we went out walking with the Queen, the Duchess of Northumberland, Lady Flora, Lady Sophia Cust, Lehzen, Miss Mitchel and Miss Hudson, Lord Howe, Lord Denbigh, Lord Brownlow, and Sir Andrew Bernard. We walked to Adelaide Cottage[180] and all got into carriages except the gentlemen who rode. The Queen, Mamma, the Duchess and I were in one carriage, and all the rest followed in others. We came home at 6. At ½ past 7 we dined....

Thursday, 7th May.— ... At 12 we went all over the Castle with the King, the Queen, the Landgravine, the Duchess, Lady Brownlow, Lady Flora, Lehzen, Miss Mitchel, Lord Howe, Lord Denbigh, Lord Brownlow, and Sir Andrew Bernard....

Friday, 8th May.—I awoke at 7 and got up at 8. At ½ past 8 we breakfasted. The Queen came and sat with us at breakfast. At ½ past 9 we left Windsor with Lady Flora and Lehzen. I was very much pleased there, as both my Uncle and Aunt are so very kind to me....

Monday, 18th May.— ... At 7 we 3 dined. ½ past 9 we went into the first large room (as in the preceding parties) and received the company (the list of which is adjoined). The singers which were Grisi, Rubini, Ivanoff, Tamburini, Lablache,[181] and Costa[182] for the piano, had just arrived. Our people were the same as the other day. When all the company had arrived which was at ½ past 10, we all went into the other room which was arranged with chairs all across the room for the people to sit on. We were in the first row with Aunt Sophia and the Duchess of Cambridge and quite close to the piano. Grisi is quite beautiful off the stage. She is not tall, and rather pale; and she has such a lovely mild expression in her face. Her face and neck has such a beautiful soft shape. She has such beautiful dark eyes with fine long eyelashes, a fine nose, and very sweet mouth. She was dressed in a white flowered silk, with blonde trimmings about the body and sleeves which reached to the elbows. Her beautiful dark hair was as usual quite flat in front with an amethyst bandeau round it, and a fine plait at the very back of her head. She is very quiet, ladylike and unaffected in her manners. I spoke to her, and she answered in a very pleasing manner. She has a very pretty expression when she speaks. Rubini is short and not good-looking. Ivanoff is also very short and has a very singular Calmuck face. Tamburini is short but very good-looking and gentlemanlike. Lablache does not look so tall off the stage as he does on it, and is likewise very gentlemanlike. The concert began with a trio from L’Assiedo di Corrinto, “Destin terribile”; Grisi, Rubini and Ivanoff sang beautifully. Then Tamburini sang “Sorgete” from L’Assiedo beautifully. After this Lablache sang “Dove vai?” from Guillaume Tell beautifully. Then Grisi sang “Tanti affetti,” an aria from the Donna del Lago, most beautifully. Her lovely voice sounds beautiful in a room. Lablache and Tamburini then sang “Il rival salvar tu dei” most beautifully. It is from I Puritani. They sing beautifully together. Their two fine voices go so well together. Lablache’s voice is immensely powerful but not too much so (for my taste), even in a room. Tamburini’s too is most splendid. He is even a more skilful and finished singer than Lablache. Then came a trio “Allor che Scorre” from Guillaume Tell, between Rubini, Tamburini and Lablache, which they sang likewise extremely well. This ended the 1st act. Near the end of the 1st act Mme. Malibran arrived. She was dressed in white satin with a scarlet hat and feathers. She is shorter than Grisi and not near so pretty. We went into the refreshment room between the acts. We then sat down again and the 2nd act began with a most lovely polonaise, “Son Vergin vezzosa” from I Puritani, which Grisi sang most exquisitely, accompanied by all the singers except Malibran. Then Grisi and Tamburini sang “Che veggo oh Ciel,” from L’Assiedo most beautifully together. Malibran then sang a song by Persiani very well. Her low notes are beautiful, but her high notes are thick and not clear. I like Grisi by far better than her. Then Grisi and Rubini sang a beautiful duet “Artuor dove sai” from I Puritani by Bellini, beautifully. His voice is delightful in a room. It is so sweet and so full of expression. Malibran and Lablache then sang a buffa duet “Con pazienza supportiamo,” by Fioravente, beautifully. Lablache is so funny and so amusing. Lablache then sang a Neapolitan air (a buffa song) of his own composition and accompanying himself, delightfully. Then came a quartet “A te oh caro!” from the Puritani, which Grisi, Rubini, Tamburini, and Lablache sung beautifully. This ended the most delightful concert I ever heard. Aunt Sophia, who had never heard any of these singers before, was delighted; but no one could be more enchanted than I was. I shall never forget it. It was Mamma’s birthday present for me! Costa accompanied on the piano beautifully. I stayed up till 20 minutes past 1. I was most exceedingly delighted....

Sunday, 24th May.—Today is my 16th birthday! How very old that sounds; but I feel that the two years to come till I attain my 18th are the most important of any almost. I now only begin to appreciate my lessons, and hope from this time on, to make great progress. I awoke at ½ past 6. Mamma got up soon after and gave me a lovely brooch made of her own hair, a letter from herself, one from dearest Feodore with a nosegay, and a drawing and a pair of slippers done by her. I gave her a drawing I had done. Dear Lehzen gave me a lovely little leather box with knives, pencils &c. in it, two small dictionaries and a very pretty print of Mdlle. Taglioni. Mamma gave her a pair of amethyst earrings and I gave her a penholder and a drawing done by myself. My maids Frances and Caroline gave me a pincushion done by Frances and a portefolio done by Caroline. Anne Mason (Lehzen’s maid) gave a small flower vase with flowers. Dashy gave an ivory basket with barley-sugar and chocolate. At 9 we breakfasted. I then received my table. From my dear Mamma I received a lovely enamel bracelet with her hair, a pair of fine china vases, a lovely shawl and some English and Italian books. From dearest Feodore a lovely enamel bracelet with hers and the children’s hair; from Charles some pretty prints; from Späth a very pretty case for handkerchiefs embroidered in silver; from Sir Robert and Lady Gardiner a very pretty sort of china vase; from Sir J. Conroy a writing-case; from the whole Conroy family some prints; and from Mr. George Hayter a beautiful drawing done by him. I quite forgot to say that I received a beautiful pair of sapphire and diamond earrings from the King and a beautiful prayer-book and very kind letter from the Queen. I also received a prayer-book from a bookseller of the name of Hatchard. At 10 we went down to prayers with Lehzen and Charles. The service was performed by the Dean who gave us likewise a very good sermon. It was taken from the 24th chapter of Joshua, 15th verse: “And if it seem evil unto you to serve the Lord, choose ye this day whom ye will serve; but as for me and my house we will serve the Lord.” After church, I received a Bible from Sir F. Trench[183] with a picture of Norris Castle painted on the margin; and also two small oil pictures from an old Mrs. Pakenham, done by a Mr. King. I also saw Mrs. Brock, Sarah (my former maid), and Mrs. Fletcher (our former housekeeper). At a ¼ to 1 came Aunt Sophia who gave me with Aunt Gloucester a very pretty diamond brooch. At 1 we lunched. At ½ past 2 came the Duchess of Northumberland, who gave me a very fine fillagree ornament in the shape of a flower, and another little fillagree ornament from Miss Wynn. Lady Flora, who gave me a pretty paper-knife and penholder of jasper from Arthur’s Seat, the rock which overhangs Edinburgh. Lady Theresa, who gave me a small pocket-book of her own work. Lady Catherine, who gave me a very fine velvet Music-book. Lady Cust, who gave me a very fine japanned box. Sir G. Anson who gave me a print; Sir Frederick Wetherall, who gave me a little china scent-bottle. Lady Conroy, Jane, and Victoire. At 3 came the Duke of Sussex, who gave me a gold bracelet with turquoises; and soon after Lady Charlotte St. Maur who gave me a purse of her own work. At a ¼ past 3 came the Landgravine who gave me a head-ornament of emeralds, and Aunt Augusta, who gave me a chrisoprase bracelet. At 4 came the Duchess of Cambridge,[184] who brought me a lovely turquoise bracelet from Uncle Cambridge, and gave me a box with sandal-wood instruments in it; Augusta who gave me a small turquoise ring; and George who gave me an album with a drawing of his in it. At 20 minutes to 5 we drove out with Lehzen and Charles. At 7 we dined, Lady Flora, Lady Conroy, Jane, Victoire, Messrs E. and H., and Sir J. Conroy dined here. After dinner came Aunt Sophia. Mdlle. David (sister to Mme. Dulcken) played on the piano. I stayed up till ½ past 9. My dear Mamma’s great present was that delicious concert which I shall never forget....

Tuesday, 9th June.—I awoke at ½ past 8 and got up soon after. At ½ past 9 we breakfasted with the King, the Queen, Charles, the Duchess of Northumberland, Lady Brownlow, Lady Catherine, and Lehzen. At ½ past 10 we went with the whole party to Eton College to see Eton Montem. In the first carriage were the King, the Duke of Cumberland, the Duke of Cambridge, and George, who had all 3 just arrived; in the 2nd, the Queen, Mamma, I, and Charles; in the 3rd, the Duke and Duchess of Northumberland and Lady Brownlow; in the 4th Lord and Lady Denbigh; in the 5th Lady Sophia Cust, Lady De Lisle, Miss Eden, and Mr. Schiffner; in the 6th Lord and Lady Frederick Fitzclarence and their daughter; in the 7th Lehzen, Miss Hudson, and Miss Wilson. All the other gentlemen rode. This is as near as I can remember. We were received by the Provost[185] and Dr. Hawtrey.[186] We then went into the yard under a sort of veranda and saw all the boys pass by which was a very pretty sight. Some of the costumes were very pretty. Some were dressed like Greeks, some like archers, others like Scotchmen, &c. We then went into the Provost’s house, and from thence saw the boy wave the standard. We also saw the Library which is very curious and old. Eton College was founded by King Henry the Sixth. We then re-entered our carriages and drove to Salt Hill where we again saw the standard waved by the boy. We then drove home. The heat the whole time was tremendous. We came home at ½ past 1. At 2 we lunched with the King, the Queen, the Dukes of Cumberland and Cambridge, George, the Duke and Duchess of Northumberland, Lord and Lady Brownlow, Lady Denbigh, Lady De Lisle, Lady Sophia Cust, Lady Frederick Fitzclarence, Lord Howe, Lady Catherine, and Lehzen. At 4 we went out driving. The Queen, Mamma, I and Charles were in the first carriage; the Duke and Duchess of Northumberland and Lord and Lady Brownlow in the 2nd; Lord Denbigh and Miss Eden in the 3rd; and Lady Catherine and Lehzen in the 4th. We drove to the Virginia Waters. We went on the water there, and at a ¼ to 6 re-entered the carriages and reached home at 7. We went on the steps before the Castle and saw all the boys and many other people walking on the terrace. They cheered the King and Queen very loudly, and me also. At 8 we dined. We went in to dinner in the same way as yesterday and the dinner-party was the same, only that Lord and Lady Frederick were not there. The Dukes of Cumberland and Cambridge and George had left the Castle after luncheon. I stayed up till a ¼ past 10....

Tuesday, 14th July.—At 11 came the Dean till 12. At 12 came Mr. Westall till 1. At 1 we lunched. The Duchess of Northumberland was present at the first lesson. At ½ past 2 I sat to Mr. Collen till ½ past 3. At a ¼ to 4 came the Dean till a ¼ past 4. At 5 we went out with Lehzen and came home at 6. At a ¼ to 7 we dined. Lady Theresa dined here. At 8 we went to the opera with Lady Theresa and Lehzen. It was the dear Puritani. Grisi was in perfect voice and sang and acted beautifully; but I must say that she shows her many fatigues in her face, and she is certainly much thinner than when she arrived. It is a great pity too that she now wears her front hair so much lower than she did. It is no improvement to her appearance, though (do what she may) spoil her face she never can, it is too lovely for that. And besides, she forgot to change her dress when she came on to sing the Polacca. In general she comes on to sing that as a bride, attired in a white satin dress with a wreath of white roses round her head; instead of which she remained in her first dress (likewise very pretty) of blue satin with a little sort of handkerchief at the back of her head. Lablache, Tamburini and Rubini were also all 3 in high good voice. The exquisite quartet “A te o cara” and the lovely Polacca “Son vergin vezzosa” were both encored as was also the splendid duet “Il rival.” After the opera was over, Grisi, Rubini, Lablache, and Tamburini came out and were loudly applauded. The two last always make a separate bow to our box, which is very amusing to see. We came away immediately after the opera was over, for the ballet is not worth seeing since La Déesse de la Danse has flown back to Paris again. She appeared for the last time on Saturday the 4th of this month. We came home at 10 minutes to 12. I was highly amused and pleased! We came in while Tamburini was singing his song, which is just before the lovely duet between Grisi and Lablache....

H.S.H. Princess Sophia of Saxe-Coburg
Countess Mensdorff Pouilly
from a portrait by Dickinson.

Monday, 20th July.—I awoke at 7. Mamma told me this morning that she had received the melancholy news last night of the death of my dear Aunt Sophie, Countess Mensdorff,[187] who was here now nearly two years ago. It is so sudden and unexpected that we were very much shocked, surprised and distressed at the sad news. My poor dear Aunt had been for many years in very bad health, and when she visited us she was unable to walk alone almost; but as we had not heard that she was unwell even, it startled and shocked us very much. She went from Prague, already very unwell, in spite of Uncle Mensdorff’s efforts to prevent her, to visit her youngest son Arthur who was in his garrison in a wretched little village in Bohemia, and it was there, far from her relations (except Uncle Mensdorff and Arthur), without any of the comforts which she was accustomed to, in a poor sort of cottage, that she breathed her last! My poor dear Aunt, I feel this loss very deeply. The more so for having seen her here! At ½ past 9 we breakfasted. At 10 we walked out with Lehzen till ½ past 10. The melancholy event happened on the 8th of this month! I feel the loss of my dear Aunt very deeply! Though I should be equally sad at losing her, had I not known her, because all Mamma’s relations are dear to me; but having seen her, having lived with her in the same house for more than a week, having been in her room and seen her at her occupations, and having experienced her great kindness to me personally, makes it more striking still, and makes me feel the weight of the loss we have experienced more. At 1 we lunched. At 5 we drove out in the country with Lehzen till 7. At ½ past 7 we dined. I stayed up till a ¼ past 9. We passed a very sad evening....

Thursday, 23rd July.— ... Mamma received this afternoon a letter from Uncle Ernest enclosing the copy of one written by dear Uncle Mensdorff, giving all the sad details about my poor dear Aunt. I fear her sufferings must have been very severe at first and during her illness; but at the last she seems to have had no suffering, no struggle. Her last moment was so quiet that Uncle Mensdorff thought she slept, and when he rose at 4 o’clock in the morning, he was pleased to see her sleep so quietly and said to his servant that he hoped the danger was over. Alas! how different was it really! My Aunt’s maid went into the room and perceiving she did not breathe, called my Uncle in, who then saw the dreadful truth! She slept truly, but she slept never more to wake! What dear Uncle’s feelings were at that moment, and what they still are, may be well imagined! She has been placed temporarily in the vault of the convent of the Elisabetherin Nuns, at Kaden in Bohemia. The funeral was splendid. Thousands came from far and near and all her former friends followed her to her last abode, where she will suffer no more grief or pain! Two regiments with their bands playing the funereal music followed and all the Nuns with burning tapers. They strewed the coffin with flowers when it entered the convent, and ornamented the vault in the same manner. It is a happiness to know that she was so much beloved. My poor dear Aunt, I loved her dearly and feel the loss deeply. Time may weaken, but it can never never efface the recollection of this loss. I shall always try to do what I can to please, and to contribute to the happiness of dear Uncle Mensdorff and my four cousins. They say that a smile was imprinted on her countenance when she died, and that she looked more friendly after her death than she had done some time previous to it....

Thursday, 30th July.—I awoke at 7 and got up at 8. I gave Mamma a little pin and drawing done by me in recollection of today. I gave Lehzen a ring, also in recollection of today. I forgot to say that Mamma gave me 3 little books yesterday, two of which I have quite read through and the third in part. They are A Method of Preparation for Confirmation, by William Hale Hale; An Address to the Candidates for Confirmation, by Dr. John Kaye, Bishop of Lincoln; and An Address to the Students of Eton College who are about to present themselves for Confirmation in 1833. They are all 3 very nice books. At a ¼ past 9 we breakfasted. I forgot to say that dear Lehzen gave me 4 very pretty prints of religious subjects. At ½ past 11 we went with Lady Flora, Lehzen, the Dean &c. to St. James’s where I was to be confirmed. I felt that my confirmation was one of the most solemn and important events and acts in my life; and that I trusted that it might have a salutary effect on my mind. I felt deeply repentant for all what I had done which was wrong and trusted in God Almighty to strengthen my heart and mind; and to forsake all that is bad and follow all that is virtuous and right. I went with the firm determination to become a true Christian, to try and comfort my dear Mamma in all her griefs, trials and anxieties, and to become a dutiful and affectionate daughter to her. Also to be obedient to dear Lehzen who has done so much for me. I was dressed in a white lace dress, with a white crape bonnet with a wreath of white roses round it. I went in the chariot with my dear Mamma and the others followed in another carriage. We went into the King’s Closet with Lady Flora and Lehzen, where we were received by the King and Queen. The Duke and Duchess of Cambridge, Aunt Sophia, the Duke of Cumberland, the Duchess of Weimar,[188] the Duchess of Northumberland, the Marquis of Conyngham, Earl Denbigh, Mr. Ashley, the Duke of Northumberland &c., were also there. We then went with all into the Royal Pew in the Chapel. The usual morning service was performed; after which we all went down into the lower part of the Chapel. The King went first leading me, the Queen followed leading Mamma, and all the others followed after. I stood without the rail before the Altar, between the King and my dear Mamma. The Queen and all the rest went into pews on each side of the Altar. The Archbishop of Canterbury and Bishop of London[189] stood on either side of the Altar. I took off my bonnet. When the usual address had been read, I (as is usual for all to do) replied “I do,” and then knelt down and received the benediction from the Archbishop. The whole was performed by the Archbishop who read also a very fine address to me, composed by him expressly for the occasion. He did the whole very well, and I felt the whole very deeply. My dear Mamma was very much affected by the whole. We went away from the Altar in the same way as we came and then went into the Closet again; where the King gave me a very handsome set of emeralds, and the Queen a head-piece of the same kind. We then drove home. We came home at a ¼ to 2. I was very much affected indeed when we came home. My dear Mamma gave me a very lovely bracelet with her hair in it, and a very pretty set of turquoises. She gave dear Lehzen a very pretty bracelet. We received the joyful news this afternoon that my dearest sister Feodore had been safely confined on the 20th instant with a daughter[190] which is to be called Adelaide, Victoria, Mary, Louisa, Amelia, Constance. I hope to God that both Mother and Child will continue as well as they have hitherto been. At 6 we dined. At 7 we drove out with Lehzen till ½ past 8. The heat continues intense! I stayed up till ½ past 9....

Sunday, 2nd August.—I awoke after 7 and got up at ½ past 8. At ½ past 9 Lehzen and I breakfasted. At 11 we went to the Chapel with Lady Flora and Lehzen. The Dean performed the service; and the Archbishop of Canterbury preached a very fine sermon. The text was taken from the 5th chapter of the 2nd epistle of St. Paul to the Corinthians, 10th verse: “For we must all appear before the judgement seat of Christ; that every one may receive the things done in his body, according to that he hath done, whether it be good or bad.” After the sermon was over we took the holy sacrament with Lady Flora, dear Lehzen, and Sir J. C. The Archbishop and the Dean administered it to us. It was the first time of taking it. It is a very solemn and impressive ceremony and when one recollects and thinks that we take it in remembrance of the death of our blessed Saviour, one ought, nay must feel deeply impressed with holy and pious feelings!...

Tunbridge Wells, Wednesday, 19th August.—Today is my poor dear Aunt Sophie’s birthday.... I read to Lehzen out of Sully’s Memoirs. It is wonderful when one considers how many years ago they have been written. Upwards of 300 years, and how modern and pure the style is! His account of the horrible massacre of St. Bartholomew is highly interesting as coming from the pen of an eye-witness! I then played on the piano with Mamma and by myself. At ½ past 12 we lunched. At 1 we went to the races with Lady Flora, Lehzen, and Sir G. Anson. It was very amusing. The day was beautiful and we sat under a sort of covering of cloth decorated with flowers, in our carriage. The Manor Stakes were won by a chesnut mare called Tirara belonging to a Mr. James Bacon. The Give-and-Take plate as it was entitled, was won by Mr. John Bacon’s chesnut mare Malibran, and the Kent and Sussex stakes was won by Mr. Pegg’s horse Little-thought-of. Amongst the numbers of beggars, itinerary musicians, actors etc. of all sorts and kinds, was a boy of 14 years old who called himself the son of an actor Williamson, very poorly dressed, who declaimed by heart a part of Marmion and of Campbell’s poems with great feeling and talent. We came home at 5. At a ¼ past 7 we dined. When we came home I played on the piano and wrote my journal. Lady, the Misses, and M. S. Conroy, and Mr. Palmer dined here. After dinner came Mme. Dulcken. I stayed up till a ¼ past 9....

Sunday, 23rd August.—I awoke at 7 and got up at 8. At a ¼ past 9 we breakfasted. After breakfast I wrote my journal and some extracts from the Peerage. At 11 we went with Lady Flora and Lehzen to church. Mr. Pope officiated and preached a sermon. The text was from the 6th chapter of St. Matthew, 10th verse: “Thy kingdom come.” It was not one of his best sermons and it was not according to my liking. He can and has preached some very fine sermons. At 1 we lunched. After luncheon I wrote extracts again. Lehzen then read to me out of the Sketch-book while I worked. At ½ past 4 we drove out with Lady Flora and Lehzen and came home at 6. I then wrote my journal. At a ¼ past 7 we dined. Sir George, Mr. and Miss Anson, Lady and the Misses and Mr. S. Conroy dined here. After dinner I took up Mrs. Butler’s Journal[191] and read a little in it. It certainly is very pertly and oddly written. One would imagine by the style that the authoress must be very pert, and not well bred; for there are so many vulgar expressions in it. It is a great pity that a person endowed with so much talent as Mrs. Butler really is, should turn it to so little account and publish a book which is so full of trash and nonsense which can only do her harm. I stayed up till 20 minutes past 9....

Tuesday, 25th August.— ... At ½ past 2 sat to M. Collen for my picture till ½ past 3, while Lehzen read to me in Mme. de Sévigné’s Letters. How truly elegant and natural her style is! It is so full of naïveté, cleverness and grace. Then I played on the piano. At 4 we walked out with Lady Flora and Lehzen and came home at 5 minutes to 5. In our walk we met a man with beautiful parrots. Amongst them was one dear little paroquet of a green colour with a pale brown head and so very tame that Mamma took it on her finger and it would hardly leave her. It talks also, the man says. It is not so remarkable for its fine plumage than for its great tameness. Mamma bought the dear little thing. It is now in Mamma’s room....

Friday, 28th August.—At ½ past 11 came the Dean till 1. I read first in the Old Testament, then in Clarendon, and finished with the Spectator. At 1 we lunched. I read after luncheon in the Bishop of Chester’s Exposition of the Gospel of St. Matthew. It is a very fine book indeed. Just the sort of one I like; which is just plain and comprehensible and full of truth and good feeling. It is not one of those learned books in which you have to cavil at almost every paragraph. Lehzen gave it me on the Sunday that I took the Sacrament. I have given up reading Smith’s Theology. It is more a book to refer to than to read all through....

Tuesday, 1st September.—I awoke at 7 and got up at ½ past 7. At ½ past 8 we breakfasted. At ½ past 9 we left dear Tunbridge Wells with Lady Flora and Lehzen. I am very sorry to leave the dear place. I am so very fond of it. I liked Boyne House better a good deal than old Mount Pleasant.... We changed horses first at Tunbridge Town, then at Sevenoaks, and lastly at Bromley. We reached Kensington Palace at 2. At a ¼ past 2 we lunched. Lady Flora went home after luncheon to her own family. At 3 we went over to Aunt Sophia’s (all our carpets being taken up), to receive the Duc de Nemours. Aunt Sophia of course was not present. The Duc de Nemours is nearly 21. That is to say His Royal Highness will complete his 21st year on the 25th of October. He is Aunt Louisa’s 2nd brother. He is tall, has a very fine slender figure, and is extremely fair. He is good-looking but not so much so as his brother the Duke of Orleans. The Duc de Nemours is extremely pleasing but rather timid. He brought Mamma a letter from his Mother, the Queen of the French, and a beautiful set of instruments made of French pebbles for me, from her. I wrote my journal then. We then saw Lady Catherine Jenkinson, and afterwards my Uncle Sussex. I then wrote my journal and did various other things. At a ¼ past 7 we dined. Lord Liverpool and Lady Catherine dined here. After dinner came Princess Sophia. I stayed up till ½ past 9....

Friday, 4th September.—I awoke at 7 and got up at ½ past 7. At ½ past 8 we all breakfasted. At ½ past 9 we left Wansford. It is a very nice clean Inn. We passed through Stamford, a large and populous town, after having changed horses at Witham Common. We changed horses 2ndly at Grantham, also a large town. These 3 are in Lincolnshire. 3rdly at Newark, also a large town, and lastly at Scarthing Moor. The country from Wansford to Scarthing Moor was like yesterday, extremely flat and ugly. From Scarthing Moor to Barnby Moor, where we arrived at 5 o’clock, the country is rich and wooded, but very flat. This Inn (Barnby Moor) is extremely clean and pretty. Newark, Scarthing Moor and Barnby Moor are all in Nottinghamshire. I am struck by the number of small villages in the counties which we passed through today, each with their church. And what is likewise peculiar is, that the churches have all steeples of a spiral shape. I read in the Alhambra again in the carriage. Finished the 1st vol. and began the 2nd. We all walked in the little garden behind the house for a short time. When we came in I wrote my journal. At a ¼ to 7 we all dined. After dinner Lady Catherine played on the piano, for there was one in the Inn. She played a variation of Herz’s, one of Hünten’s, and the Polacca; and she accompanied us while we sang “Il rival.” I stayed up till 9.

Saturday, 5th September.—I awoke at ½ past 6 and got up at 7. Read in the Exposition of St. Matt.’s Gospel while my hair was doing, and also in the Venetian History. Last night I also read in the Gospel and in Mme. de Sévigné. At a ¼ to 8 we all breakfasted. At a ¼ to 9 we left Barnby Moor. It is a remarkably nice and clean Inn. We changed horses 1st at Doncaster, a very pretty town, 2ndly at Ferry bridge where there is a fine bridge, and lastly at Tadcaster. All these towns are in Yorkshire. We reached Bishopthorpe (the Archbishop of York’s Palace) at 2. It is 2 miles and a half from York. It is a very large house and part of it is very old. Besides the Archbishop[192] and Miss Harcourt (his daughter), the Duchess of Northumberland, Lady Norreys,[193] Sir John and Lady Johnstone[194] (Lady Johnstone is the Archbishop’s daughter), Mr. and Mrs. and Miss Granville Harcourt,[195] Colonel Francis Harcourt,[5] Mr. Vernon, are staying in the house. After half an hour we lunched in a large dining-room. We then went to our rooms which are very nice. I finished the Alhambra. It is a most entertaining book and has amused me very much. I wrote my journal when I came into my room. Wrote a letter to Feodore and read in the Venetian History. The country through which we travelled today is very flat and ugly, but extremely rich. I find the air in Yorkshire cooler than in Kent and the South of England. I read in Mrs. Butler’s journal which amuses me. There are some very fine feelings in it. At a ¼ to 7 we dined. Besides the people whom I mentioned, Mr. Charles Harcourt,[196] Mr. William Harcourt, the Lord Mayor and Lady Mayoress, Colonel York, Colonel[197] and Mrs. Wildman, &c. After dinner Lady Norreys and her cousin Miss Vernon sang a duet from La Gazza Ladra beautifully, and also “Suoni la tromba.” They are both extremely pretty. They are pupils of Tamburini. We sang something then. I like Miss Vernon’s voice the best of the two. We then went to prayers. After that, I sang the Barcarola from Faliero, frightened to death. I stayed up till a ¼ to 11....

Bishopthorpe, Wednesday, 9th September.—... At a ¼ past 11 we went to the York Minster with the same party as yesterday with the exception of Lord and Lady Norreys and Mrs. Vernon, who remained at home. The Minster was fuller than on the preceding day. It was Handel’s Oratorio of The Messiah. It is considered very fine, but I must say that, with the exception of a few Choruses and one or two songs, it is very heavy and tiresome. It is in 3 parts. In the 1st part Grisi sang “Rejoice greatly” most beautifully. She pronounces the English so very well, and sang the whole in such excellent style.... The Hallelujah Chorus at the end of the 2nd part and another at the end of the 3rd act are the finest things besides “Rejoice greatly.” But I am not at all fond of Handel’s music, I like the present Italian school such as Rossini, Bellini, Donizetti &c., much better....

Friday, 11th September.— ... Lablache and Rubini sang only once each. Alas! it will be a long time before I shall hear their two fine voices again. But time passes away quickly and April and the dear Opera will soon return. I am to learn to sing next year. Mamma promised I should; and I hope to learn of Lablache. What a delightful master he would be to learn of! Grisi sang “Laudate Dominum,” by Mozart, accompanied by Dr. Camidge[198] on the organ. She executed the delicate passages in it beautifully. Between the two parts we lunched at the Deanery with our party and many others. Grisi came in with her uncle while we were at luncheon. She is extremely handsome, near-by, by day-light. Her features are not small, but extremely fine, and her eyes are beautiful as are also her teeth. She has such a sweet amiable expression when she smiles, and has pleasing quiet manners. She had an ugly dingy foulard dress on, with a large coloured handkerchief under a large muslin collar. And she had a frightful little pink bonnet on, but in spite of all her ugly attire she looked very handsome. She is a most fascinating little creature.... Grisi sang the last air “Sing ye to the Lord.” Never did I hear anything so beautiful. It was a complete triumph! and was quite electrifying! Though a very little bit and with very little accompaniment, the manner, the power with which she sang it, and the emphasis which she put into it, was truly splendid. I shall just write down the lines:

Sing ye to the Lord, for He hath triumphed gloriously:

The horse and his rider hath He thrown into the sea.

She pronounced it beautifully. When she had sung “The horse and his rider hath He thrown” she paused a moment, and then came out most emphatically with “into the sea!”...

Saturday, 12th September.— ... At 11 we left Bishopthorpe, but not without regret. They are a very amiable family. Miss Harcourt is a very nice person. She ought by rights to be called Miss Georgiana Harcourt, the Archbishop’s eldest daughter being unmarried, but as she never goes out and does not make the honneurs in the house, Miss Georgiana is always called Miss Harcourt.[199] The Archbishop has 10 sons, 5 of whom were at Bishopthorpe; 3 staying in the house, Mr. Granville Harcourt, Colonel Harcourt,[200] and Mr. Egerton Harcourt, and two out of the house, Mr. William Harcourt[201] and Mr. Charles Harcourt,[202] staying at the residence. Mrs. William Harcourt is a very nice person. We passed a pleasant time at Bishopthorpe in spite of fatigues which were not slight and which I begin to feel....

Canterbury, Thursday, 29th September.—I awoke at 6 and got up at ½ past 7. At ½ past 8 we all breakfasted. At ½ past 9 Mamma received an address from the Mayor and Corporation here. We then saw some officers. After this we left Canterbury. It is a very clean nice Inn. It was a fine day. We reached Ramsgate at ½ past 12. The people received us in a most friendly and kind way. The whole was very well conducted, and the people were very orderly. The streets were ornamented with arches of flowers and flags. The open, free, boundless (to the eye) ocean looked very refreshing. There is nothing between us and France but the sea, here. We have got a small but very nice house, overlooking the sea. At a ¼ past 2 we walked down to the Albion Hotel to see the preparations made for dear Uncle Leopold and dear Aunt Louisa. At a little past 4 we went down to the Hotel with Lady Flora, Lehzen and Lady Conroy, as the steamer was in sight. With beating hearts and longing eyes we sat at the window, anxiously watching the steamer’s progress. There was an immense concourse of people on the pier to see them arrive. After about half an hour’s time, the steamer entered the Harbour, amidst loud cheering and the salute of guns from the pier, with the Belgian flag on its mast. My dearest Uncle Leopold, King of the Belgians, and dearest Aunt Louisa were very warmly received. It was but the people’s duty to do so, as dear Uncle has lived for so long in England and was so much beloved. After another ¼ of an hour of anxious suspense, the waiter told us that “Their Majesties were coming.” We hastened downstairs to receive them. There was an immense crowd before the door. At length Uncle appeared, having Aunt Louisa at his arm. What a happiness was it for me to throw myself in the arms of that dearest of Uncles, who has always been to me like a father, and whom I love so very dearly! I had not seen him for 4 years and 2 months. I was also delighted to make the acquaintance of that dear Aunt who is such a perfection and who has been always so kind to me, without knowing me. We hastened upstairs, where Uncle Leopold and Aunt Louisa showed themselves at the window and were loudly cheered; as they ought to be. I do not find dear Uncle at all changed. On the contrary I think he looks better than he did when I last saw him. Aunt Louisa is not quite so tall as Mamma, and has a very pretty slight figure. Her hair is of a lovely fair colour; her nose is aquiline, her eyes are quite lovely; they are light blue and have such a charming expression. She has such a sweet mouth and smile too. She is delightful, and was so affectionate to me directly. She pronounces English extremely well and speaks it very fluently. She almost always speaks it with Uncle. She was very simply dressed in a light brown silk dress, with a sky-blue silk bonnet and white veil. Uncle and Aunt are accompanied by Comtesse Henri de Mérode (Dame d’Honneur to Aunt Louisa), and General Goblet.[203] M. Van de Weyer is also here. We then left them and Lehzen and I drove home and Mamma and the rest walked home. At a little after 7 we dined. Dear Uncle Leopold, dear Aunt Louisa, the Duc de Nemours (who had only arrived half an hour ago), Comtesse H. de Mérode, General Goblet, General Baudrand,[204] M. Van de Weyer, Dr. Clark,[205] Mr. and Miss V. Conroy, dined here. I sat between Uncle Leopold and the Duc de Nemours; two delightful neighbours. When I say next to a person, as for instance I said the other day, and many days, “I sat next to the Duc de Nemours,” “I sat next to the Duke of Norfolk,” &c., &c., I mean, as I did today, that I sat between or next to them at dinner. The Duc de Nemours, now that I see him and Aunt Louisa together, is not like her. He has such a good kind expression in his face; and Aunt Louisa has the most delightful sweet expression I ever saw. She is quite delightful and charming. She is so gay and merry too. She had a white moiré dress on, and her fine hair was so well done, in a plait behind and curls in front with a row of pearls and three black velvet bows in it. After dinner came two other gentlemen of the Duc de Nemours, Colonel Boyer and Monsieur Larnac. We passed a most delightful evening....

Thursday, 5th November.—I awoke at 7 and got up at 8. Dressed, walked over to my room and breakfasted at 9. Read in the Exposition of St. Matt.’s Gospel, and in the Venetian History while my hair was doing. Dear good Lehzen takes such care of me, and is so unceasing in her attentions to me, that I shall never be able to repay her sufficiently for it but by my love and gratitude. I never can sufficiently repay her for all she has borne and done for me. She is the most affectionate, devoted, attached, and disinterested friend I have, and I love her most dearly....

Wednesday, 2nd December.— ... We walked on the Pier which was very amusing. There are a number of foreign ships in the harbour; Portuguese, Finland, and a number of French fishing-boats. The dress of the French fishermen is very picturesque. There were some Spanish sailors playing on the pier, who looked very singular. Amongst others there was a little French fisher-boy playing with another boy with a pulley. He had a funny round rosy face, and was dressed in a loose blue woven woolen jacket, with huge boots which reached to his knees, and a red cap. Mamma asked him what he was doing, upon which he answered with naïveté, “Nous sommes à jouer un peu.” She asked him where he came from; “De Dunkirk,” was his reply. He said this all, and some other things, in such a funny naif way, and with such a sly arch smile, that it was quite amusing. He asked for a “sou,” and we gave him 6 pence, which pleased him very much....

INTRODUCTORY NOTE TO CHAPTER V

When the Princess was seventeen the shadow of coming events was cast over her placid life. Her Journals contain evidence of this. She became aware that her Uncle, King Leopold, had begun to think with grave anticipation of the high position she might before long have to occupy, and of the project of uniting her in marriage to some Prince worthy to share with her the anxieties and responsibilities of a Throne. She knew that he had fixed upon her cousin, Prince Albert of Saxe-Coburg.

In May of this year she saw the Prince for the first time. William IV. did not favour the views of King Leopold. His candidate was a younger son of the Prince of Orange. Both Princes were invited to London, and both were present at a ball given by the Duchess of Kent in honour of her daughter attaining the age of seventeen.

The young Princess was not attracted by the Prince of Orange. It would be an exaggeration to say that she felt more than a sisterly affection for Prince Albert. She thought him good-looking and charming, and they sketched and sang together. He found her very amiable and astonishingly self-possessed. There is not a trace on either side of deeper sentiment. When the Prince left England, she wrote to her Uncle Leopold expressing anxiety to fall in with his wishes in respect of her future marriage as in everything else, but there is no indication that her heart was touched. The seed, however, was sown which was to ripen later, and ultimately to bear fruit, the sweetest she was destined to taste in her long life.

The plans of King Leopold were an open secret, and roused considerable interest in all classes. On his return home Prince Albert was entertained in Paris at an official dinner given by Lord Granville, which was taken to mean that good progress had been made with the scheme of the projected marriage.

In the course of this year the Princess resided at Claremont, then the property of King Leopold. Her life there was one of great simplicity. There were lately living a few old people in the village of Esher who remembered the little Princess attending the ancient church, now disused, dressed in spotted muslin with a large poke bonnet.

Perhaps owing to the consciousness that his candidate had failed to create a favourable impression, King William during this year displayed more than usual hostility to his sister-in-law, the Duchess of Kent. The King’s behaviour to her mother undoubtedly saddened the life of the little Princess, more especially as it was in somewhat strong contrast to the kindness with which she herself was treated by King William and Queen Adelaide.

Meanwhile, the stream of public events rolled smoothly along.

CHAPTER V
1836

Monday, 11th January.— ... We went out walking at a ¼ to 2 with Lady Flora and Lehzen; it had cleared up and was quite mild and bright. We walked on the pier and got into a boat. There was a good deal of swell in the Harbour, and at the mouth of it our boat pitched and rolled a good deal; Mamma began to look queerish, but I thought it very pleasant. There were numbers of people on the pier. The 3 Portuguese vessels hoisted their Portuguese standards, as did also the two Spaniards. We landed at the same stairs where we embarked. The whole of Ramsgate seemed to be out on the pier. We walked to the head of the pier and back again and got into the carriage. We drove to the cliff where the stairs called “Jacob’s ladder” are. We got out there and went down the stairs, and walked on the other side of the pier. We took a parting look at the end of the pier, of all the ships, the pier &c., for we go tomorrow. There were, I think, 7 French boats in the Harbour; and there were numbers of little French boys on the pier; we gave them something, but they (for the first time) proved dissatisfied and rebellious. They quite attacked Lehzen, who always gives the money, coming round her on all sides, stretching out their hands, saying “Donnez-moi un sou,” “Je n’ai pas un,” “Madame, Madame, donnez-moi un sou,” &c. Some little urchins were rusés enough to say “C’est pour nos matelots, nous allons à bord dans l’instant.” Lehzen threw them a shilling, whereupon they all fell on the ground in one heap, scrambling after it. They were quiet for a little while, but a few little determined fellows came again and followed us for sometime. They at length got something, and went away. Cela était fort amusant et très ridicule à voir....

Wednesday, 13th January.—I awoke at a little past 6 and got up at 7. Dressed and had my hair done. We breakfasted at 8. We left Sittingbourne at 9. It was a bitterly cold day, though bright and clear. We changed horses at Rochester, 2ndly at Gravesend, and 3rdly at Blackheath. We reached Kensington Palace at a little before 2. We instantly went upstairs, that is to say, up two staircases, to our new sleeping and sitting apartments which are very lofty and handsome. To describe them minutely and accurately would be impossible. Our bedroom[206] is very large and lofty, and is very nicely furnished, then comes a little room for the maid, and a dressing-room for Mamma; then comes the old gallery which is partitioned into 3 large, lofty, fine and cheerful rooms.[207] One only of these (the one near Mamma’s dressing-room) is ready furnished; it is my sitting-room and is very prettily furnished indeed. My pictures are not yet in it. The next is my study, and the last is an anteroom; this last has no fireplace, but the two others have, and my sitting-room is very warm and comfortable. There is another room, belonging to me, on another side of the bed-room (Lehzen’s former bed-room) which is not freshly furnished, but is a passage &c. Lehzen is now in our former bed-room. When I went down into my poor former sitting-room,[208] I could not help looking at it with affection, and pleasant recollections, having passed so many days of my life and many very pleasant ones there; but our new rooms are much more airy and roomy....

Thursday, 14th January.— ... Read out of Mme. de Sévigné while my hair was doing to Lehzen. We all breakfasted at a ¼ past 9. Carried things from my old room, upstairs to my new room, and put them into the new presses. Wrote my journal. My pictures are being hung up and my room is in a great confusion; the workmen in my study are making a great noise, so that I am un peu confuse. Walked about. We lunched at 1. Arranged things. Saw Dr. Clark at 2. Received a most kind and long letter from dearest Aunt Louise in which she tells me that Uncle Leopold and my little cousin are well, as also Uncle Ferdinand, who is with them; and that the Duke of Orleans[209] (whom she calls Chartres, as the whole family generally do) is better but not quite well yet. She further adds, that the dear Queen of the French who had a very bad cold, is better....

Wednesday, 3rd February.—I awoke at 7 and got up at a ¼ to 8. Read in the Irish History while my hair was doing. At 9 we breakfasted. Pasted my name in some of my books. At 10 came the Dean till 11. Read with him first in the Old Testament and then in Hume. Pasted my name in some of my books. I have got all the same pictures I had in my former room, hung up in my present room, with the exception of some old prints and of the two ugly oil pictures of my Father and Mother, and with the addition of Hayter’s drawing of Mamma and I. My fine casts of the dear French family are also hung up in my sitting-room; they only came home today as the frame had to be mended. I am so fond of them. Various prints are also being hung up in my study. Wrote my journal. Drew....

Saturday, 6th February.— ... I have quite forgotten to mention that the young Queen of Portugal was married by proxy on the 1st of January to—my Cousin Ferdinand, Uncle Ferdinand’s eldest son, and who completed his 19th year on the 29th of last October.[210] The negotiations to this purpose have been going on since last September, and have only just now come to an end. Count Lavradio, whom we saw just before we went to Ramsgate, went to Cobourg to meet Uncle Ferdinand and my dear Cousins Ferdinand and Augustus, there. Dear Uncle Leopold has managed a great deal of the business; he is ever ready and ever most able to assist his family. Uncle Ferdinand has not long left Brussels, where he came to settle and arrange about the marriage. Dear Uncle Ferdinand is, of course, full of anxiety for the welfare and happiness of his son. Ferdinand will soon come to Brussels with Augustus on his way to Lisbon and they will also come here. I cannot say how happy I am to become thus related to the Queen of Portugal, who has always been so kind to me and for whom I have always had a great affection. She is warm-hearted, honest and affectionate, and when she talks, is very pleasing. We have known each other since our 8th year (for there is only a month’s difference of age between us). She is far from plain too; she has an exquisite complexion, a good nose and fine hair. I hear that Ferdinand is full of good and excellent qualities, has a pure and unsophisticated mind, and is very good-looking....

Saturday, 20th February.— ... At ½ past 3 came the Dean till 4. Read with him in Milton’s Paradise Lost. Practised on the piano for Mrs. Anderson.[211] Drew while Lehzen read to me out of that Rapport about Fieschi.[212] Practised again on the piano. At ½ past 7 we dined. Aunt Gloucester, the Prince of Hesse-Philippsthal-Barchfeldt,[213] the Archbishop of York and Miss Harcourt, the Duke of Wellington, Count[214] and Countess Charles Pozzo di Borgo, the Earl and Countess of Lincoln,[215] Viscount and Viscountess Beresford,[216] Lord Hill, Lady Caroline Legge,[217] Lady Theresa Strangways, Sir Robert and Lady Peel, General Upton and Sir Samuel Higgins dined here. I sat between the Duke of Wellington and Count C. Pozzo di Borgo. The Count is a very agreeable man. His wife, the dear little Countess, looked lovely; she is such a charming person; she is the 3rd daughter of the Duc de Crillon and is called Valentina. Lady Lincoln is also a very charming young person; she was so pretty but she is very much changed as she was very ill all last summer and is still very far from well. I sat a good deal with her and the little Countess Pozzo, and found them very amiable and cheerful....

Saturday, 27th February.— ... It was Miss Joanna Baillie’s[218] Tragedy of The Separation in 5 acts, performed for the 2nd time. The principal characters are: Garcio (an Italian Count), Mr. Charles Kemble,[219] who acted finely in parts but is dreadfully changed; Rovani (his friend), G. Bennett who acted disagreeably and affectedly; the Marquis of Tortona, Mr. Pritchard, a poor odd-looking creature; Margaret (wife to Garcio), Miss Helen Faucit,[220] who acted well in the pathetic quiet parts. I had not seen Charles Kemble since 5 years, and I did not quite recollect his countenance; those however who had seen him in his good days, when he was an excellent actor and a very handsome man, found the change very great. I, for my part, like Macready by far better. Kemble whines so much and drawls the words in such a slow peculiar manner; his actions too (to me) are overdone and affected, and his voice is not pleasant to me; he makes terrible faces also which spoils his countenance and he looks old and does not carry himself well. He was very fine, however, at the end of the 3rd act when he snatches the picture out of his wife’s hand, and when he discovers it to be that of her brother Ulrico whom he murdered,—the way in which he throws the picture on the ground and sinks trembling and gasping against the bed, while his countenance pourtrays the violent feelings of remorse, horror and conscience this Kemble did very finely, and also when he takes leave of Margaret. He was undoubtedly a very fine actor, nay, still is, but he is not natural enough for my taste. I do think Macready is so feeling and natural, particularly now; he was perhaps formerly rather affected and violent at times. His voice too I like so much and he does not drawl the words; I like him best after Young, who was the most beautiful actor I ever saw, or who perhaps ever existed in this country, except Garrick and John Kemble (Charles K.’s elder brother). I only saw Young twice but I shall never forget it. I saw him 1st in Macbeth and then I saw him take his final leave of the stage in Hamlet. I must say a few words about G. Bennett[221] and Miss Helen Faucit. Bennett, whom I have seen act really extremely well in The Miller and His Men, in Pizarro, in King John as Hubert, &c., &c., was extremely disagreeable yesterday as Rovani; he twisted his arms, hands, legs, back and even eyes in all directions, and drawled his words in speaking most disagreeably. Miss Faucit is plain and thin, and her voice is much against her, but when she is gentle and pathetic she is far from disagreeable; she rants and screams[222] too much also, but as she is very young, they say she may become a good actress. The Tragedy though well written is rather unnatural and very heavy in parts; I must say I greatly prefer The Provost of Bruges and think it by far more natural. Kemble and Miss Faucit were called out and were much applauded....

P.V. del. R.P. April 1837.
M^r. Charles Mathews as Dapperwit in The Rape of the Lock

CHARLES MATHEWS.
From a sketch by Princess Victoria.

Monday, 29th February.— ... At ½ past 7 we went to the play to Mme. Vestris’s[223] Olympic, with Lehzen and Sir J. C. I had never been there before; it is a very small but pretty, clean little theatre. It was the burletta of One Hour or The Carnival Ball in one act. The principal characters are: Mr. Charles Swiftly, Mr. Charles Mathews,[224] a most delightful and charming actor; he is son to the celebrated old Mathews who died last year. He is quite a young man, I should say not more than five or six and twenty.[225] His face is not good-looking, but very clever and pleasing; he has a very slight, pretty figure, with very small feet and is very graceful and immensely active; he skips and runs about the stage in a most agile manner. He is so natural and amusing, and never vulgar but always very gentlemanlike. He is a most charming actor....

Charles Mathews is the most delightful and amusing actor possible. He is the only child of his parents and was intended for an architect and studied in Greece and Italy for that purpose; but having a penchant for the stage, he abandoned his profession and had become an actor; we see how it has succeeded—most perfectly!...

Wednesday, 2nd March.— ... Lady Burghersh[226] told me that she knew Charles Mathews very well when she was in Florence, where he was come for the purpose of studying architecture; she said she had often acted with him in their private theatricals and that he always showed a great talent for acting, and that he then performed as a gentleman; he now acts quite like a gentleman, and looks so too; he is a charming performer I think. Lady Burghersh also said that he looks younger than he is, for that he must be 3 or 4 and thirty. He told her when at Florence that he had a great passion for the stage, but, as his father was greatly averse to his son becoming an actor, he refrained from doing it during his father’s lifetime....

Thursday, 17th March.— ... We reached Windsor Castle at 6. We went to the Queen’s room where Ferdinand and Augustus were presented to the King. We then went to our rooms. At ½ past 7 we dined in St. George’s Hall with an immense number of people. Ferdinand looked very well. He wore the 3 Portuguese Orders in one ribbon, which he has the right of doing as husband to the Queen of Portugal. Ferdinand led the Queen in to dinner and the King led Mamma and I. I sat between the King and George Cambridge and opposite dear Ferdinand. After dinner we went into a beautiful new drawing-room[227] where we remained till the gentlemen came from dinner. We then all went into the Waterloo Gallery where the ball was. The King went in first, then the Queen and Mamma, and then dear Ferdinand with me at his arm. I danced 3 quadrilles; 1st with dear Ferdinand, then with George Cambridge, and lastly with dear Augustus. During the evening dear Ferdinand came and sat near me and talked so dearly and so sensibly. I do so love him. Dear Augustus also sat near me and talked with me and he is also a dear good young man, and is very handsome. He is extremely quiet and silent, but there is a great deal in him. I am so fond too of my Uncle Ferdinand. I stayed up till 1. I was much amused and pleased. Uncle Ferdinand brought me two kind notes from Uncle Leopold and Aunt Louise. Ferdinand is so fond of Aunt Louise. He told me: “Oh, je l’aime tant!” Both he and Augustus speak French extremely well. This dinner and ball were in honour of dear Ferdinand.

Friday, 18th March.— ... At ½ past 9 we breakfasted with the King, the Queen, dear Ferdinand (who came nearly at the end of the breakfast, having slept a long while), dear Uncle Ferdinand, Augustus, Charles, Prince Ernst of Hesse P.B.,[228] the Duchess of Northumberland, George Cambridge, Lady Ely,[229] Lady Flora, and Lehzen. After breakfast Mamma and I went into the Queen’s room and looked at some of her many pretty things. Wrote my journal. At ½ past 11 we drove out with the Queen and dear Ferdinand in our carriage, Ferdinand and I sitting on the back seat and the Queen and Mamma on the front seat. Uncle Ferdinand, Augustus, Charles and Prince Ernest of Hesse P.B. followed in another, and all the rest in other carriages. We went to see a hunt and saw a stag let out of a cart and all the horsemen followed in great numbers. It was a very pretty sight, and a beautiful warm day. We were all in open carriages. I talked a good deal with Ferdinand, and like him more and more; he is so sensible, so natural, so unaffected, and unsophisticated and so truly good. His tutor, who has been with him 13 years, M. Dietz, and whom he told me he is very fond of, will go with him to Lisbon as his “secrétaire intime,” he told me. He (M. Dietz)[230] came with several other gentlemen to Kensington yesterday. Ferdinand is so fond of Augustus; the separation will be dreadful for the two brothers; and he is very fond of his sister Victoire. We came home at ½ past 1. Wrote the brouillon of a French letter to Aunt Louise. At 2 we lunched with the whole party. I sat between the King and Uncle Ferdinand. Wrote my letter to Aunt Louise. Wrote my journal. Walked about. At about ½ past 5 dear Ferdinand, Uncle Ferdinand, and dear Augustus came into our room for a little while. At ½ past 7 we dined; again in St. George’s Hall and with the same large company as the day before. Ferdinand went first (as he did also yesterday) with the Queen; then came the King with us two. I sat between the King and George Cambridge, and opposite dear Fernando. After dinner Uncle Ferdinand and my Cousins came and sat near us every now and then. Dear Ferdinand has elicited universal admiration from all parties; the King is very much pleased with him, and the Queen is quite taken with him. He is so very unaffected, and has such a distinguished appearance and carriage. They are both very dear and charming young men; Augustus is very amiable too, and when known, shows much good sense; he is very quiet and gentle. There is such an innocence and simplicity in them, and such a childish gaiety, and again they are very grown-up and nice in their manners, which are very unaffected and pleasing. Stayed up till ½ past 11....

Friday, 1st April.—Today is Good Friday. At ½ past 9 we breakfasted with dear Uncle Ferdinand, dear Augustus, Charles, Lady Flora and Lehzen. I sat between dear Augustus and Charles. I stayed downstairs till a ¼ past 10. Received the Order of Ste. Isabelle from my Cousin Donna Maria. The ribbon is very pale pink and white. Went up stairs, and wrote part of the brouillon of a French letter to Aunt Louise. Dear good Augustus came up at ½ past 10 and stayed till 11. These visits please me very much; he is so quiet, and goes about looking at the things in the room, sits down and reads the newspapers, and never is in the way. He is a dear boy, and is so extremely good, kind and gentle; he has such a sweet expression and kind smile. I think Ferdinand handsomer than Augustus, his eyes are so beautiful, and he has such a lively, clever expression; both have such a sweet expression; Ferdinand has something quite beautiful in his expression when he speaks and smiles and he is so good. They are both very handsome and very dear! Ferdinand is superior to Augustus in various ways, and is by far more forward for his age in his mind than the latter. They have both learnt, and know, a great deal, and are both very orderly and tidy. At 11 we went down to prayers with Charles, Lehzen, Lady Flora &c. &c. The service was performed by the poor Dean who gave us likewise a sermon. We saw him for an instant after the service was over. He is very calm and resigned. We remained with Uncle a little while downstairs. Finished my brouillon of my French letter. Began to copy it. Went downstairs to see some paintings done by a Mr. Cowen.[231] They are very well done indeed. Augustus came in also and looked at them for a moment. Came up to my room and went on writing my letter to dear Aunt Louise. Dearest Uncle Ferdinand came up to me for a few minutes and then went down again. Augustus came up and stayed a little while, while I was writing my letter and then went down. I gave him this morning a seal and some prints which pleased him very much. Finished my letter to Aunt Louise and wrote my journal. At 25 minutes to 4 dear good Augustus came up and sat in my room looking at annuals till 4. He assisted me in sealing my letters, and we both made a mess, and he burnt a cover in sealing it, dear boy, for me, which made us both laugh. He went down for 5 minutes, came up again, and Uncle, after staying a few minutes, fetched him away to pay visits to the Duke of Sussex and Princess Sophia. Played and sung. At 10 minutes to 6 came Mrs. Wellesley[232] who is going tomorrow and will reach Stuttgardt on Friday. Augustus came in and we stayed with Uncle and him a few minutes downstairs. Oh! could I but have some more such days, with that dear Uncle and dear Augustus, whom I love so much! I shall feel very lonely and unhappy when they leave us....

Sunday, 10th April.— ... Read to Lehzen part of The Directions and Advices which dearest Uncle Leopold has written down for Ferdinand, most cleverly and beautifully done. They are written in French and are divided into 3 parts. The part I have read is Affaires Politiques, which is divided into headings of all the departments of the Government. Dear Uncle has studied[233] the Portuguese Constitution, Government, People, Country, &c., &c., so completely since the intended marriage of Ferdinand with the Queen of Portugal, that he is as familiar with the whole as though he were in the country. Dear Uncle Leopold is so clever and so prudent and so kind; he has taken so much pains and trouble about Ferdinand and I must say he is repaid for his trouble by the affection and gratitude Ferdinand has for him; and certainly he has not thrown away his time in so doing, for Ferdinand is not only very good, but clever, and therefore with Uncle’s advice he will succeed, I am sure. Van de Weyer is a most trusty, clever person, and as he has also copies of these papers, will be of the greatest use to Ferdinand. I see by the part I have read, which contains most valuable, important and sage advice, one thing which I am very glad of, which is, that the Queen will associate Ferdinand with her in the Council, &c., that he is always to be present at all her Councils. Uncle advises him to listen and not to give his opinion until he has become acquainted with the characters of the persons in the Council, and then, after having well weighed what he means to say, to give his opinion. There is so much of all the advice which I wish I could insert here, but which I have no time to do.[234]

Monday, 11th April.—Lehzen read to me while I was dressing and I read to her while my hair was doing, one of the parts of the Directions for Ferdinand, called Observations Générales, and began the last one called Note communiquée au Comte de Lavradio. Dear Uncle Leopold is so clever and governs Belgium so beautifully, that he is a model for every Sovereign and will contribute to the happiness and re-organisation of Portugal, as he has done to Belgium; for that country owes all its prosperity, happiness, everything, to dearest Uncle Leopold; it was in a sad state when Uncle arrived, and by his great prudence, sagacity, and extreme cleverness, Belgium is now one of the most flourishing Kingdoms in Europe....

Tuesday, 3rd May.— ... At 10 minutes past 11 came Lablache till 10 minutes past 12. He complained much of the cold weather, and said “qu’ils étaient tous enrhumés” and that they had all been very hoarse last night at a concert, except Rubini. I like Lablache very much, he is such a nice, good-natured, good-humoured man, and a very patient and excellent master; he is so merry too.[235] En profile he has a very fine countenance, I think, an aquiline nose, dark arched eye-brows, and fine long eyelashes, and a very clever expression. He has a profusion of hair, which is very grey, and strangely mixed with some few black locks here and there. I sung first the recitative of “Notte d’orrore,” from Marino Faliero, several times over. Then Mamma and I sung “Mira oh! Norma” and “Si fine al ore,” both twice over and “Qual cor tradesti” twice over. Then I sang twice with Lablache “Io son ricco e tu sei bella,” a very pretty little duo from L’Elisire d’Amore by Donizetti. He sang this delightfully, he has such a fine voice and pronounces so distinctly and so well. En conclusion I sang “Vivi tu.” I liked my lesson extremely; I only wish I had one every day instead of one every week....

Friday, 13th May.— ... Mme. Malibran de Bériot[236] (as she now calls herself since her marriage with the eminent violinist de Bériot) was in very fine voice and sang extremely well indeed, twice. She sang first the prayer which Anna sings in her sleep in the 2nd act of La Sonnambula, and “Ah! non giunge unam pensiero!” I prefer Grisi’s singing of these very much to Malibran’s; there is a sweetness, mildness and softness, accompanied with such beautifully clear execution, in the former, which the latter does not possess in the high notes. Malibran’s deep tones are beautiful, touching and feeling, but her high notes are harsh, sharp and voilée. The 2nd thing she sang was pretty and well adapted to her voice....

Wednesday, 18th May.— ... At a ¼ to 2 we went down into the Hall, to receive my Uncle Ernest, Duke of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha, and my Cousins, Ernest and Albert, his sons. My Uncle was here, now 5 years ago, and is looking extremely well. Ernest is as tall as Ferdinand and Augustus; he has dark hair, and fine dark eyes and eyebrows, but the nose and mouth are not good; he has a most kind, honest and intelligent expression in his countenance, and has a very good figure. Albert, who is just as tall as Ernest but stouter, is extremely handsome; his hair is about the same colour as mine; his eyes are large and blue, and he has a beautiful nose and a very sweet mouth with fine teeth; but the charm of his countenance is his expression, which is most delightful; c’est à la fois full of goodness and sweetness, and very clever and intelligent. We went upstairs with them, and after staying a few minutes with them, I went up to my room. Played and sang. Drew. At a little after 4 Uncle Ernest and my Cousins came up to us and stayed in my room till 10 minutes past 5. Both my Cousins are so kind and good; they are much more formés and men of the world than Augustus; they speak English very well, and I speak it with them. Ernest will be 18 years old on the 21st of June and Albert 17 on the 26th of August. Dear Uncle Ernest made me the present of a most delightful Lory, which is so tame that it remains on your hand, and you may put your finger into its beak, or do anything with it, without its ever attempting to bite. It is larger than Mamma’s grey Parrot, and has a most beautiful plumage; it is scarlet, blue, brown, yellow, and purple. At 6 we went with Lehzen, Lady Flora &c., to dine at the Archbishop of York’s, and I was very sorry to leave my dear Uncle and Cousins behind us at home....

H.S.H. Prince Albert of Saxe Coburg
aged nine
from a portrait by Schneider, after Eckhart.

Thursday, 19th May.—Read in the Exposition while my hair was doing. At 9 we breakfasted with Uncle Ernest, Ernest, Albert, Lehzen and Charles. I sat between my dear Cousins. At ½ past 10 Lehzen and I walked in the gardens and came home at ½ past 11. At a ¼ to 12 came the Dean till ½ past 12. Read with him in the New Testament and in Clarendon. At ½ past 12 came Mr. Steward till ½ past 1. Played and sung. At a ¼ past 2 came the Dean till 3. Read with him in Paley. At 3 came Mrs. Anderson till 4. At a ¼ to 5 we walked in the gardens with Lehzen till ½ past 5. Wrote my journal. At 7 we dined. Besides us 3 and Uncle, my Cousins and Charles,—Count Kolowrat (one of Uncle Ernest’s gentlemen), Lady Flora and the Miss Conroys &c., dined here. I sat between dear Ernest and dear Albert. After dinner came Aunt Sophia. Received a very kind letter from dear Aunt Louise and some ribbons. Stayed up till ½ past 10. I like my Cousins extremely, they are so kind, so good, and so merry....

Saturday, 21st May.— ... At ½ past 7 we dined with Uncle Ernest, Ernest, Albert, Charles, Lady Flora, Count Kolowrat, Baron Alvensleben, &c. I sat between my dear Cousins. After dinner came Princess Sophia. Baron de Hoggier, who had arrived from Lisbon the day before, came after dinner, and took leave, on his way home. I sat between my dear Cousins on the sofa and we looked at drawings. They both draw very well, particularly Albert, and are both exceedingly fond of music; they play very nicely on the piano. The more I see them the more I am delighted with them, and the more I love them. They are so natural, so kind, so very good and so well instructed and informed; they are so well bred, so truly merry and quite like children and yet very grown up in their manners and conversation. It is delightful to be with them; they are so fond of being occupied too; they are quite an example for any young person....

Sunday, 22nd May.—I awoke at 7 and got up at 8. Read in Cornwallis on the Sacrament while my hair was doing. At a ¼ past 9 we all breakfasted. I sat between i miei carissimi cugini. At a ¼ past 10 dear Lehzen and I walked out in the gardens and came home at a ¼ to 11. Received the news of the death of my poor old Nurse, Mrs. Brock, which took place the day before yesterday. She was not a pleasant person, and undoubtedly had, as everybody has, her faults, but she was extremely attached to and fond of me, having been with me from my birth till my fifth year, therefore it is impossible, and it would be very wrong, if I did not feel her death. My chief regret is, that she did not live till I was my own mistress, and could make her quite comfortable....[237]

Tuesday, 24th May.—I awoke at 7. Today I complete my 17th year; a very old person I am indeed! I am most thankful that I was brought through this year safely, and I beseech my heavenly Father to extend His benediction and blessing over me for this year and for many others....

Friday, 10th June.—At 9 we all breakfasted for the last time together! It was our last happy happy breakfast, with this dear Uncle and those dearest, beloved Cousins, whom I do love so very very dearly; much more dearly than any other Cousins in the world. Dearly as I love Ferdinand, and also good Augustus, I love Ernest and Albert more than them, oh yes, much more. Augustus was like a good, affectionate child, quite unacquainted with the world, phlegmatic, and talking but very little; but dearest Ernest and dearest Albert are so grown-up in their manners, so gentle, so kind, so amiable, so agreeable, so very sensible and reasonable, and so really and truly good and kind-hearted. They have both learnt a good deal, and are very clever, naturally clever, particularly Albert, who is the most reflecting of the two, and they like very much talking about serious and instructive things and yet are so very very merry and gay and happy, like young people ought to be; Albert used always to have some fun and some clever witty answer at breakfast and everywhere; he used to play and fondle Dash so funnily too. Both he and Ernest are extremely attentive to whatever they hear and see, and take interest in everything they see. They were much interested with the sight of St. Paul’s yesterday. We remained down with them till 10. I then went up to my room and came down again at a little after 10. We remained with them again, Uncle Ernest going in and out of the room. I am so very fond of him too; now that I know him much better and have talked with him, I love him as much as dear Uncle Ferdinand. He is so mild, so kind and so good. Dearest Albert was playing on the piano when I came down. At 11 dear Uncle, my dearest beloved Cousins, and Charles, left us, accompanied by Count Kolowrat. I embraced both my dearest Cousins most warmly, as also my dear Uncle. I cried bitterly, very bitterly....

Sunday, 31st July.—Read in The Young Divine and began to read in Ikon Basilike in one vol., a book which came out a few days after poor Charles I. had been beheaded; while my hair was doing. It is said to have been written by him during his captivity, and contains meditations and prayers; but the Dean, who gave it me a few days ago, told me that great disputes have arisen as to whether it was really written by Charles, or whether some friend of his had collected sayings and meditations he might have heard the King make, and put them together and that this point has not been settled yet. Whatever it may be, and by whomever it may have been written or compiled, one thing is certain, that it is a very good and pious book and is authentic as to its contents....

Wednesday, 3rd August.—Read in the Exposition and in The Conquest of Granada while my hair was doing. At 9 we breakfasted. At a ¼ to 10 we went to the British Gallery with Lehzen to see the Exhibition by the ancient Masters (all private property). Never did I see anything more beautiful than this collection of the immortal Masters’ paintings, for so I must call them as their names will never pass away. There were such numbers of beautiful paintings, that I really know not which to name in preference. Upon the whole, I think the finest were those by Murillo and Guido. The finest by Murillo are “The Angels coming to Abraham,” “The return of the Prodigal Son,” splendid both, belonging to the Duke of Sutherland. “St. Joseph leading the infant Saviour who carries a basket of carpenter’s tools,” quite in another style but beautiful; “Santa Rosa, espousing the infant Saviour,” exquisite; and “Portrait of Don Andres de Antrade and his favourite dog,” very fine. The finest by Guido are, “The Assumption of the Virgin,” the expression of the Virgin’s face is beautiful; two different heads of St. Peter, both very fine. “The Magdalen,” beautiful. The finest by Vandyke are “The Virgin and Infant Saviour,” very lovely.... At a ¼ to 4 we went with Lehzen and Lady Flora to Chiswick, to the Victoria Asylum or Children’s Friend Society. It is a most interesting and delightful establishment, and has been founded almost entirely by Lady George[238] and Miss Murray. It is for poor vagrant girls, who are received under the age of 15; and Miss Murray says that they have never had a girl 6 months who did not become a perfectly good child. I forget how young they receive children, but there are—[unintelligible] girls in all, and they are divided, a few being in an infant school upstairs. When they have become quite good and can read, write and do work of all kinds necessary for a house, they are sent abroad, mostly to the Cape of Good Hope, where they are apprenticed and become excellent servants. Miss Murray told us many curious stories of the depraved and wretched state in which many arrive, and how soon they become reformed and good. There is one little girl in particular, a very pretty black-eyed girl, 11 years old, called Ellen Ford, who was received two months ago from Newgate, and who boasted she could steal and tell lies better than anybody. She had been but two or three days in the school, and she got over 3 high walls, and stole a sheet; she was caught and brought back again. Miss Murray spoke to her, and found that the poor girl had no idea whatever of a God, and had a drunken father, a low Irishman; this man had lost his 1st wife and married again, and this step-mother taught the girl nothing but stealing and lying. Miss Murray told her of God, and spoke to her very seriously; the girl was put in solitary confinement for that night and was taken out the next morning; and ever since she has been a perfectly good girl. There are many cases of the same sort which Miss Murray said she could relate. Before I finish this chapter I must mention the Matron, a most respectable excellent person, called Mrs. Bowerhill; she is assisted by her two daughters, and by an old woman for work; but besides this old woman, the children do all the work themselves. We came home at ½ p. 6. I was very much pleased indeed with all I saw. Miss Murray gave me a book into which she had copied several of the letters of the children from abroad, and very nice well-written letters they are. Miss Murray’s exertions are immense and most praiseworthy for the Children’s Friend Society. There is a Committee of Ladies who meet every other Tuesday I believe; but Lady George and Miss Murray go down 3 times a week and oftener. At a ¼ p. 7 we dined. After dinner came Princess Sophia. Stayed up till 10 minutes to 10....

Monday, 8th August.—I awoke at 7 and got up at 8. At a ¼ past 9 we breakfasted. At a ¼ to 10 Lehzen and I walked out till ½ past 10. Arranged things for packing. At 11 came my good Lablache and stayed till 20 minutes past 12. I sang 1st “Come per me sereno,” from La Sonnambula. Then he sang with me “Claudio, Claudio, ritorna fra le braccia paterne,” twice over; then he sang with me “Se un istante all’ offerta d’un soglio,” also from Elisa e Claudio. The former of these two was the one that I sang so very ill on Saturday, but which Lablache did not mind at all. He thought it went better today; but he is too indulgent. He was in delightful voice, and sang beautifully. After this he sang “Non temer il mio bel cadetto” from Il Posto abbandonato, by Mercadante, with me. His volubility of tongue is wonderful; he can sing such quantities of words and at such a rate. There are plenty in this Duo, and still more in “Quand amore,” and in “Voglio dire,” both from L’Elisire d’Amore. Then he sang my favourite “O amato zio” from my dear Puritani, with me. After this he sang “O nume benefico” with us; then “Ridiamo, cantiamo,” and then, alas! per finire, “Dopo due lustri ahi! misero,” from Donna Caritea, by Mercadante. Lablache told me that he likes Guillaume Tell the best of all Rossini’s operas, Otello the best of his Operas Seria, and Il Barbiere the best of his buffa operas. Ha ragione. His son (Lablache’s) is gone, he told me; he went yesterday, as did also Rubini. I asked him if any other of his 8 children sang, or were musical. He replied, “Non, ils sont trop jeunes; l’aîné n’a que douze ans.” And the youngest of all, he says, is only 2 years old. There is an opera tomorrow, but the boxes &c., &c. are let, shocking to say, at the play-house prices, and “C’est un pasticcio,” he said. It is not in the regular number of nights. He said that I have improved greatly in my singing since he has sung with me. After the last trio, I took leave of il mio buon e caro Maestro with great regret. I must repeat again that he is not only a most delightful, patient, and agreeable master, but a most good-humoured, pleasing, agreeable and honest man; his manners are very gentlemanly and quiet, and he has something very frank, open and honest in his countenance; everybody who knows him agrees in his being such a good man. I have had 26 lessons of Lablache and shall think back with great delight on them; and shall look forward with equal delight to next April, when I hope Lablache will be here, so that I can resume them again. It was such a pleasure to hear his fine voice and to sing with him. Everything that is pleasant, alas! passes so quickly in this “wide world of troubles.” How often I have experienced that, in greater pleasures, when my dear relations have left me! But then there are the pleasant recollections of all that is past, and one must be happy one has had them. I was exceedingly delighted with this my last lesson; the time seemed to fly even faster than usual, for it always appeared to me that these pleasant lessons were over in an instant. Lablache accompanied really very fairly, and when he came to any difficult parts, he put in “des accords,” which did just as well. I have already mentioned how very obliging he is; he was always ready to sing anything I like and to stay as long as I liked. He is extremely active for his size, which really is very considerable. It amused me always to see him come in and go out of my room; he walked so erect and made such a fine dignified bow. So now all, all is over for this season, not only the Opera but my favourite singing-lessons too....

Wednesday, 10th August.— ... A propos, I shall never forget when, in my first singing-lesson, I was so frightened to sing before Lablache, he said in his good-natured way, “Personne n’a jamais eu peur de moi,” which I am sure nobody can ever be who knows him....

Claremont, Friday, 16th September.—At ½ past 9 we breakfasted, that is to say, dearest Uncle, we two, Lehzen &c., Lady Catherine not being well enough, and Uncle’s two gentlemen being gone to town. Went up to my room and copied out music. At about a ¼ to 12 dearest Uncle came and sat with me till ½ p. 12. He talked over many important things. He is so clever, so mild, and so prudent; he alone can give me good advice on every thing. His advice is perfect. He is indeed “il mio secondo padre” or rather “solo padre”! for he is indeed like my real father, as I have none, and he is so kind and so good to me, he has ever been so to me. He has been and always is of such use to me and does so much good....

Sunday, 18th September.—Baron Moncorvo brought yesterday the distressing news that the same unfortunate revolution which took place in Spain, has likewise taken place in Portugal, and that the Queen was forced to proclaim the constitution of 1820 similar to the one of 1812.[239] It happened between Friday the 9th and Saturday the 10th, in the night. I do so feel for poor dear Ferdinand in this trying moment, as also for the poor good Queen. The difference between this and the one in Spain was: that in Portugal they behaved respectfully towards dear Ferdinand and Donna Maria, and in Spain they almost insulted the Queen Regent. In Portugal, thank God! no blood has been shed. As soon as the Empress heard what had happened, or rather what would happen, she hastened to the Palace de Necessidades, where Ferdinand and the Queen were, arrived there at 3 o’clock in the night, and remained there till all was over. The Princess Isabella, the Queen’s Aunt (and the former Regent), also came and remained with them. Uncle Leopold was much shocked and distressed when he heard it, as were we also, I am sure.... Dear Uncle came up for a minute and brought us 3 letters which Van de Weyer had written to him, giving a detailed account of these horrid transactions at Lisbon. Van de Weyer’s conduct throughout this dreadful business, when everybody else seems to have lost their heads and senses, was most courageous, prudent and judicious; and if his and Ferdinand’s advice had been followed, the Queen would not have been obliged to sign the Promulgation of the Constitution of 1820. Van de Weyer says that all was given up “avec la plus affreuse lâcheté!” without a struggle or attempt, when all might yet have been saved....

Wednesday, 21st September.— ... Dear Uncle came up and fetched us down to breakfast, as he has done already once before, and twice for dinner. He always accompanied us upstairs when we went to bed. It was our last breakfast with him; I sat, as usual, near him and General Goblet.[240] To hear dear Uncle speak on any subject is like reading a highly instructive book; his conversation is so enlightened, so clear. He is universally admitted to be one of the first politicians now extant. He speaks so mildly, yet firmly and impartially, about Politics. Uncle tells me that Belgium is quite a pattern for its organisation, industry and prosperity; the finances are in the greatest perfection. Uncle is so beloved and revered by his Belgian subjects, that it must be a great compensation for all his extreme trouble. He is so mild, gentle and kind, and so clever and firm....

M^me Malibran
from recollection
P.V. del. Bentest[?]
Sept. 1836.

MADAME MALIBRAN.
From a sketch by Princess Victoria.

Monday, 26th September.— ... Read in the Morning Post of today the melancholy and almost incredible news of the death of—Malibran![241] which took place at Manchester on Friday night at 12 o’clock, at the early age of 28. She had gone there for the festival which took place the week before last, and only sang on Tuesday the 13th instant, and tried to do so on the Wednesday but was unable, after which she was taken so alarmingly ill that all singing was over. On Saturday the account in the papers was that she was out of danger, but the improvement was only transient and on Friday night this wonderful singer and extraordinary person was no more. She will be, and is, a very great loss indeed; for, though I liked and admired Grisi by far more than Malibran, I admired many parts of the latter’s singing very much, in particular those touching and splendid low notes which gave one quite a thrill. In point of cleverness and genius there is not a doubt that Malibran far surpassed Grisi; for she was not proficient alone in singing and acting, she knew Spanish (her own language), Italian, French, English, and German perfectly, as also various Italian patois. She composed very prettily, drew well, rode well on horseback, danced beautifully, and enfin climbed well, as General Alava told us, who knew her very well; he said you could speak with her on any subject and she was equally à son aise. She was born in 1808 at Paris, and is the daughter of a famous Spanish singer called Garcia; she married first an old French merchant called Malibran, from whom she was divorced; and secondly this spring the incomparable violinist De Bériot. Mamma saw her make her debut as Maria Garcia, only 16 years old, in Il Crociato, at the Italian Opera in London, as “un giovinetto Cavalier.” There is something peculiarly awful and striking in the death of this great Cantatrice, undoubtedly the second in the world, (Grisi being the first in my opinion). To be thus cut off in the bloom of her youth and the height of her career, suddenly, is dreadful!...

Wednesday, 28th September.— ... The news from Lisbon are far from good, I am sorry to say. Mamma received a letter from Van de Weyer this morning, dated 11th Sept., in which he said that there had been another émeute the afternoon before, which however had been dissipated, and that both dearest Ferdinand and Donna Maria showed great calmness and dignity. It is a great trial for poor dear Ferdinand and for the good Queen. Van de Weyer says they are all in a very uncomfortable situation....

Friday, 30th September.— ... Read in The Times last night a distressing account of the details of poor Malibran’s illness and death. Poor young creature! she seems to have been neglected at a time when her life might perhaps still have been saved; for she complained of head-ache and shivering the same afternoon she arrived (Sunday 11th Sept.). On the Wednesday night after singing that fine but now painful Duo “Vanne se alberghi in petto,” she was taken so very very ill. Notwithstanding all this she got up on Thursday morning and was dressed with the assistance of Mrs. Richardson, landlady of the Mosely Arms Hotel at Manchester, for she had no female attendant, a man-servant of De Bériot’s being (as is said in the newspapers, for all what I have hitherto related about her illness and death is taken from the newspapers) their only servant. In spite of every effort to prevent her, the poor dying Malibran insisted upon going to the Oratorio that morning, and was accordingly carried to her carriage; but being seized with hysterics she was instantly taken back. She never left her room, and scarcely her bed, from that time till her death. Dr. Belluomini, her own Physician, only arrived on Sunday the 18th, though other physicians had attended her (from Manchester) before. She was perfectly insensible when she died; as also two or 3 days before her death. De Bériot was distracted and overpowered on learning of her death, in another room whither they had compelled him to retire when it was drawing to a close. He never saw her afterwards, and left the place 2 hours after all was over. It is the most melancholy end that could be imagined! To come to an inn in a foreign land with nobody to nurse her, and die there! What a sad and tragical end to her bright career! I can still hardly believe it possible that she, whom I can see before me as she was at our own concert, dressed in white satin, so merry and lively, and whose pathetic voice when speaking I can hear, is now in the silent tomb; for the funeral was to take place at 10 o’clock this morning with great splendour. And so today, all, all is over with poor Malibran!...

Sunday, 9th October.— ... We went to the church at Ramsgate with Lady Catherine and Lehzen. Mr. Harvey preached. The text was from the 5th chapter of the 2nd Epistle to Cor., 10th verse: “For we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ; that every man may receive the things done in his body according to that he hath done, whether it be good or bad.” Came home at 20 minutes to 1. Wrote my journal. Copied out music. At a ¼ to 3 we went to the chapel with Lady Catherine and dear Lehzen, &c. The service was read by Mr. Lewis, and Dr. Longley (late Master of Harrow School) preached, and most beautifully; so mildly and emphatically; his voice is very good, his pronunciation very pure, his delivery calm and impressive, his language beautiful yet simple, and his appearance very pleasing. He must be between 30 and 40, I should say. The text was from the 3rd chapter of Daniel, 16th, 17th, and 18th verses: “Shadrach, Meshech, and Abed-nego answered and said to the King, O Nebuchadnezzar, we are not careful to answer thee in this matter. If it be so, our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the burning fiery furnace, and He will deliver us out of thine hand, O King. But if not, be it known unto thee, O King, that we will not serve thy gods nor worship the golden image which thou hast set up.” It was a most beautiful sermon in every way, and I was very much pleased and impressed with it. Dr. Longley is to be Bishop of Ripon....[242]

Thursday, 27th October.— ... Read in The Conquest of Granada while my hair was doing. At 9 we breakfasted. Wrote a letter to my brother. At 10 came the Dean till ½ p. 11. Read with him in the N.T., in The Life of Colonel Hutchinson, and in Paley. The Life of Colonel Hutchinson is written by his wife, who wrote it for her children after their father’s death. Colonel Hutchinson lived in the time of Charles I., the Commonwealth, and even of Charles II. He was on the Puritanical side, and though a very good man, signed the King’s death-warrant, being very strong on his side, which is to be seen by Mrs. Hutchinson’s writings; his and her feelings being totally opposite to Clarendon’s, render it interesting, though it is more a private account of his life than any public History of the Times, but of course a good deal of history will be mixed up in it as Col. Hutchinson had a good deal to do in the wars. Mrs. Hutchinson’s style is remarkably quaint and ancient, indeed in some parts so much so as to render it almost ridiculous, but there are again some very pretty feeling parts in it (indeed feeling and pious throughout it), one of which, in which she speaks of her husband and herself I shall quote; before I do so, however, I must say that the editor, a descendant of the family, has left the orthography just as she wrote it, which is very antiquated and imperfect: “The greatest excellence she (Mrs. Hutchinson) had was the power of apprehending and the vertue of loving his (Col. H.’s) soe as his shadow, she waited on him every where, till he was taken into that region of light, which admits of none, and then she vanisht into nothing.” There is likewise another passage speaking of a son she lost: “... call’d by his owne name John, who liv’d scarce six yeares, and was a very hopefull child, full of his father’s vigor and spiritt, but death soone nipt that blossome.” Lehzen of course still continues reading to me while I dress, the delightful letters of Mme. de Sévigné; we are now in the middle of the 10th vol., and I like them more and more, they are so beautiful, so easy, they show the character of the person who wrote them so perfectly, you become acquainted with her and hers, and there are such tender and beautiful feelings expressed in them, towards that daughter who was her all & all; and the style is so elegant and so beautiful. I shall quote a passage relating to a vexation she had about not procuring the “députation” for her son M. de Sévigné: “Ne faut-il point être juste et se mettre à la place des gens? c’est ce qu’on ne fait jamais.” How true this is. Then how pretty this is, in writing to Mme. de Grignan: “Vous me louez trop de la douce retraite que je fais ici; rien n’y est pénible que votre absence.” There is certainly nothing so beautiful of the kind, in any language as these letters. I shall just quote two passages from the extracts in The Edinburgh Review of Sir James Mackintosh’s life, about Mme. de Sévigné: “In the midst of all the rage felt at Paris against King William, the admirable good-sense and natural moderation of Mme. de Sévigné catches a glimpse of his real character, through the mists of Rome and Versailles: ‘Le prince n’a pas songé à faire périr son beau-père. Il est à Londres, à la place du Roi, sans en prendre le nom, ne voulant que rétablir une religion qu’il croit bonne, et maintenir les loix du pays sans qu’il en coûte une goutte de sang.... Pour le Roi d’Angleterre il y (St. Germains) parait content,—et c’est pour cela qu’il est là.’ Observe the perfect good-sense of the last remark, and the ease and liveliness with which it is made. Tacitus and Machiavel could have said nothing better; but a superficial reader will think no more of it than the writer herself seems to do.”—Again, further on: “The style of Mme. de Sévigné is evidently copied not only by her worshipper Walpole, but even by Gray; who notwithstanding the extraordinary merits of his matter, has the double stiffness of an imitator and of a college recluse....”

Friday, 28th October.—I awoke at 7 and got up at 20 minutes to 8. Read in the Exposition while my hair was doing. Received a most kind dear and pretty letter from dearest Aunt Louise, from which I will copy a passage: “I have today not much to say. It is my brother Nemours’ birthday; and in the same time, the anniversary of the death of my dear governess” (Mme. de Mallet, who died when Aunt Louise was at Paris last year) “of the best and truest friend I had for twenty years, to make me melancholy. In her was broken the first link of the chain of my strong and youthful affections. How many more shall I live perhaps to see destroyed?” How pretty and feeling this is; it comes straight from her dear good heart. I can well say of my precious Lehzen what she says of Mme. de Mallet, that she is my “best and truest friend” I have had for nearly 17 years and I trust I shall have for 30 or 40 and many more!...

Tuesday, 1st November.— ... Read in The Conquest of Granada, and wrote my journal. There are two lines in Rokeby (which is so full of beauty that I could copy the whole and not find one part which is not full of loveliness, sweetness, grace, elegance, and feeling, for the immortal bard who wrote these beautiful poems never could write an ugly line in my opinion) which struck me, as well as the Dean, who is, s’il est permis de le dire, poetry-mad, as most splendid.... Oh! Walter Scott is my beau idéal of a Poet; I do so admire him both in Poetry and Prose!...

Thursday, 3rd November.— ... After 7 we dined. The Duke of Wellington, the Countess of Ashburnham,[243] and Lady Elinor Ashburnham,[244] Lord and Lady Radstock,[245] Lord and Lady Barham,[246] Colonel Stopford,[247] Colonel Barnard, Mr. Sicklemore, and Mr. Mayhew dined here. I sat between the Duke of Wellington and Lord Radstock. The Duke looked remarkably well and was in very good spirits. Lady Barham looked very handsome; she had a reddish brown velvet turban and a dark velvet dress. She is a likeness of the Duchess of Sutherland in dark, but the Duchess is handsomer, in figure and all together handsomer, having a finer nose and mouth than Lady Barham. Lady Barham has a beautiful brow and fine dark expressive eyes with a fine pale complexion, but the lower part of her face, particularly the mouth and chin, are not at all good. She looks 28 and is only 22....

Sunday, 6th November.— ... We walked home at 1. Read in Astoria. Added a few lines to my letter to Feodore. Wrote one to Aunt Sophia and my journal. At ½ p. 2 we went out with dearest Lehzen and came home at a little before 4. Received a most kind letter from dearest Uncle Leopold accompanied by a “supplément extraordinaire” to the Moniteur Universel, giving an account of the “échauffourée” which took place at Strasburg on the 30th October, headed by Louis Napoleon Buonaparte,[248] a young man of 28 years old, son of the Duchesse de St. Leu (Hortense), and who tried to make the Troops rise in his favour, but the latter proved faithful to their King (Louis Philippe) and country, as they ought; and the Prince and Rebels have been put in prison. The Queen of the French sent Uncle the paper....

Sunday, 20th November.— ... Read a letter of Lord Palmerston’s to Mamma relative to the late unfortunate affairs at Lisbon, which is very consolatory. Marshal Saldanha was charged to bring about the reaction, which was to spread first in the provinces and then to the capital and the Queen was not to give the first impulse.[249] Unfortunately poor Donna Maria was hurried into this step by the jealousy of those about her. The friends of the Duke of Terceira, unwilling that Marshal Saldanha should have the credit of the reaction, snatched it out of his hands and brought on all this confusion. However, Lord Palmerston concludes with this: “The result of the whole is, that the Queen’s position is better than it was, not so bad as it might have been after such a failure, but much less good than if she had waited patiently till the proper time for action had arrived. The Prince behaved throughout with spirit, courage and firmness and has acquired by his conduct the respect of both parties.” That our beloved and precious Ferdinand has behaved in such a way is most delightful for me, who love him like the dearest of Brothers. It could not be otherwise, I was sure....

Tuesday, 29th November.— ... At 8 we left poor West Cliff House.... We reached Canterbury in safety in spite of the rain and some wind, but not very long after we left it, it began to blow so dreadfully, accompanied by floods of rain at intervals, that our carriage swung and the post-boys could scarcely keep on their horses. As we approached Sittingbourne, the hurricane, for I cannot call it by any other name, became quite frightful and even alarming; corn stacks were flying about, trees torn up by their roots, and chimneys blown to atoms. We got out, or rather were blown out, at Sittingbourne. After staying there for a short while we got into the carriage where Lady Theresa and Lehzen were, with them, which being larger and heavier than our post-chaise, would not shake so much. For the first 4 or 5 miles all went on more smoothly and I began to hope our difficulties were at an end. Alas! far from it. The wind blew worse than before and in going down the hill just before Chatham, the hurricane was so tremendous that the horses stopped for a minute, and I thought that we were undone, but by dint of whipping and very good management of the post-boys we reached Rochester in safety. Here we got out, and here it was determined that we must pass the night. Here we are therefore, and here we must remain, greatly to my annoyance, for I am totally unprepared, Lehzen’s and my wardrobe maid are gone on to Claremont, and I hate sleeping at an Inn. I had been so glad at the thought of not doing so this time, mais “l’homme propose et Dieu dispose,” and it would have been temerity to proceed, for a coach had been upset on the bridge just before we arrived, and the battlements of the bridge itself were totally blown in....

Sunday, 18th December.— ... I sat between Mr. Croker[250] and Col. Wemyss.[251] Der erste ist ein kluger, aber nach meiner Meinung, nicht angenehmer Mann; er spricht zu viel. He has a very excellent memory and tells anecdotes cleverly but with a peculiar pronunciation of the r. He said that the Duke of Wellington had told him that the character of the 3 nations, the English, Scotch, and Irish, was very apparent in the army. He said (the Duke), “It may seem like a joke what I am going to say, but it is quite true; the Scotch were pleased when the money arrived, the Irish when they got into a wine country, and the English when the roast beef came up.” He told many anecdotes and made many remarks upon the various nations, ein wenig sehr stark. Il aime trop à étaler, il n’a pas de tacte; il prend trop le ton supérieur....

Claremont, Saturday, 24th December (Xmas Eve).—I awoke after 7 and got up at 8. After 9 we breakfasted. At a little after 10 we left Kensington with dearest Lehzen, Lady Conroy and—Dashy! and reached Claremont at a ¼ to 12. Played and sang. At 2 dearest Lehzen, Victoire and I [? went out] and came home at 20 minutes p. 3. No one was stirring about the Gipsy encampment except George, which I was sorry for, as I was anxious to know how our poor friends were after this bitterly cold night. Played and sang. Received from dearest best Lehzen as a Christmas box: 2 lovely little Dresden china figures, 2 pair of lovely little chased gold buttons, a small lovely button with an angel’s head which she used to wear herself, and a pretty music book; from good Louis a beautiful piece of Persian stuff for an album; and from Victoire and Emily Gardiner a small box worked by themselves. Wrote my journal. Went down to arrange Mamma’s table for her. At 6 we dined. Mr. Edmund Byng[252] and Mr. Conroy dined here. Mr. Byng is going to stay here a night or two. Very soon after dinner Mamma sent for us into the Gallery, where all the things were arranged on different tables. From my dear Mamma I received a beautiful massive gold buckle in the shape of two serpents; a lovely little delicate gold chain with a turquoise clasp; a lovely coloured sketch of dearest Aunt Louise by Partridge, copied from the picture he brought, and so like her; 3 beautiful drawings by Munn, one lovely sea view by Purser, and one beautiful cattle piece by Cooper (all coloured), 3 prints, a book called Finden’s Tableaux, Heath’s Picturesque Annual for 1837, Ireland; both these are very pretty; Friendship’s Offering, and The English Annual for 1837, The Holy Land illustrated beautifully, two handkerchiefs, a very pretty black satin apron trimmed with red velvet, and two almanacks. I am very thankful to my dear Mamma for all these very pretty things. From dear Uncle Leopold, a beautiful turquoise ring; from the Queen a fine piece of Indian gold tissue; and from Sir J. Conroy a print. I gave my dear Lehzen a green morocco jewel case, and the Picturesque Annual; Mamma gave her a shawl, a dress, a pair of turquoise earrings, an annual, and handkerchiefs. I then took Mamma to the Library where my humble table was arranged. I gave her a bracelet made of my hair, the clasp of which contains Charles’, Feodore’s and my hair; and the Keepsake and Oriental Annual. Lehzen gave her two pair of little buttons just like mine. I danced a little with Victoire. Stayed up till 11.

Sunday, 25th December (Xmas day).—At 9 we all breakfasted. Mamma, Lehzen and I read prayers. Arranged my new drawings. At a little before 2 dearest Lehzen, Victoire and I went out and came home at 3. As we were approaching the camp,[253] we met Rea coming from it, who had been sent there by Mamma to enquire into the story of these poor wanderers. He told us (what I was quite sure of before) that all was quite true, that the poor young woman and baby were doing very well, though very weak and miserable and that what they wanted chiefly was fuel and nourishment. Mamma has ordered broth and fuel to be sent tonight, as also 2 blankets; and several of our people have sent old flannel things for them. Mamma has ordered that the broth and fuel is to be sent each day till the woman is recovered. Lehzen sent them by our footmen a little worsted knit jacket for the poor baby, and when we drove by, Aunt Sarah,[254] the old woman and the Husband all looked out and bowed most gratefully. Rea gave them directly a sovereign. I cannot say how happy I am that these poor creatures are assisted, for they are such a nice set of Gipsies, so quiet, so affectionate to one another, so discreet, not at all forward or importunate, and so grateful; so unlike the gossiping, fortune-telling race-gipsies; and this is such a peculiar and touching case. Their being assisted makes me quite merry and happy today, for yesterday night when I was safe and happy at home in that cold night and today when it snowed so and everything looked white, I felt quite unhappy and grieved to think that our poor gipsy friends should perish and shiver for want; and now today I shall go to bed happy, knowing they are better off and more comfortable....

Thursday, 29th December.— ... At 12 we went out with dear Lehzen and came home at 2. Everything still looked very white and the ground rather slippery but not so much as yesterday. It snowed part of the time we were walking. I saw Aunt Sarah and the least pretty of the two sisters-in-law, who has returned, in a shop at Esher. How I do wish I could do something for their spiritual and mental benefit and for the education of their children and in particular for the poor little baby who I have known since its birth, in the admirable manner Mr. Crabbe in his Gipsies’ Advocate so strongly urges; he beseeches and urges those who have kind hearts and Christian feelings to think of these poor wanderers, who have many good qualities and who have many good people amongst them. He says, and alas! I too well know its truth, from experience, that whenever any poor Gipsies are encamped anywhere and crimes and robberies &c. occur, it is invariably laid to their account, which is shocking; and if they are always looked upon as vagabonds, how can they become good people? I trust in Heaven that the day may come when I may do something for these poor people, and for this particular family! I am sure that the little kindness which they have experienced from us will have a good and lasting effect on them!...

GYPSY WOMEN.
From a sketch by Princess Victoria.

INTRODUCTORY NOTE TO CHAPTER VI

This was her annus mirabilis, her wonder-year. The earlier months passed much as usual. On 24th May she was eighteen years old. The entry in her Journal shows some presentiment of what was to come. In less than a month she had stepped from out of the precincts of that quiet, ill-furnished palace in Kensington Gardens into the full glare of the Throne. The 20th June was her most wonderful day, but although keenly alive to its significance and glory, she never lost her self-control. The hidden forces which even her Journals failed to reveal, appear so to have moulded her character that she was enabled to appreciate and yet resist the glamours of this supreme moment. There is not a trace of doubt or misgiving. She was conscious of a mysterious duty imposed upon her by Divine Providence, and although she obviously felt her inexperience, she never for a moment doubted her fitness for her task. King William died at Windsor soon after two in the morning, and three hours later the Archbishop and Lord Conyngham were at Kensington Palace. The Princess received them in a dressing-gown hastily thrown over her nightdress, her feet in slippers, and her fair hair loose about her head. Four hours later she received for the first time Lord Melbourne, the Prime Minister, who was destined until the day of her marriage to exercise a potent influence over her thoughts and actions. Her caution in the selection of confidantes, her wariness in granting her approval, and her care to safeguard the regal tradition, are clearly apparent from the day of her accession. Although she accepted advice, she never appeared to yield. There is nothing in these Journals that displays the inner thoughts of the Queen, in a light differing from that in which her conduct appeared both to her Ministers and to her courtiers. Then, as in after-years, she fulfilled the hope publicly expressed by Lord John Russell, that she would prove to be an Elizabeth without her tyranny and an Anne without her weakness.

It must be remembered that from the day of her accession the Crowns of Great Britain and Hanover were divided. Her uncle, Ernest, Duke of Cumberland, succeeded to the Throne of Hanover. The fear that he might succeed to the Throne of Great Britain had always haunted the minds of the people, and added to the feeling of gladness with which they welcomed the young Queen. On the second day of her reign the name Alexandrina was dropped for ever, and she was thenceforth known, as she desired to be, by the name of Victoria.

CHAPTER VI
1837

Sunday, 8th January.— ... The service was performed by the Dean, who gave us likewise a sermon. The text was from the 1st Chapter of Isaiah,—verse:—“Wash you, make you clean.” At 12 dear Lehzen and I went out and came home at 10 minutes p. 1. It is today a week that we took leave of our poor good friends the Gipsies, and I am quite sorry when I pass the spot so long enlivened by their little camp, and behold it empty and deserted, and with almost no trace to be seen of their ever having been there. They had been there more than a month, for they encamped there about 5 days after we arrived here and have been there ever since until last Wednesday or Thursday. To my feeling, the chief ornament of the Portsmouth Road is gone since their departure. But this is their life; they are happy and grateful and we have done them some good. The place and spot may be forgotten, but the Gipsy family Cooper will never be obliterated from my memory!...

Tuesday, 10th January.— ... At a ¼ p. 3 came M. Van de Weyer, who arrived in London last night from Lisbon. He gave us most interesting and most valuable information about Portugal; praised our dearest Ferdinand to the skies, said he showed cleverness, firmness, and character which no other young man of his age hardly ever showed; said the poor Queen was totally indifferent to whatever happened, but was extremely obedient to Ferdinand who had great power over her. He told us much to distress us, but said that the present ministers were ready to do anything that was right. He is a most clever, clear-sighted, sensible little man, Van de Weyer himself. He looks much careworn and fatigued, and no wonder at it....

Tuesday, 7th February.—Read in Bajazet. Read to Lehzen out of Polyeucte and finished it; it is certainly very beautiful and full of most beautiful and highminded feelings, but the end is, to my feelings, rather unnatural. Lehzen dictated to me some passages from Polyeucte....

Thursday, 9th February.— ... Read to dear Lehzen out of the newspapers Lord John Russell’s very able and judicious speech on bringing in the Irish Corporation bill; and out of the Irish History.... Read in Bajazet and wrote my journal. Lehzen dictated French to me. Played and sang. Read in Raumer’s Königinnen. Read in Clive’s life[255] while my hair was doing. At 6 we dined. Read in Bajazet. Sang, and Mamma also. Stayed up till 10. Read in School Shakespeare while my hair was undoing.

Saturday, 8th April.—At 10 came the Dean till 11. Read with him in the N.T. and in Boswell’s Life of Johnson. At ½ p. 11 I went down and sat to Mr. Lane[256] till a ¼ to 1. He showed me 4 very beautiful coloured drawings by Chalon, 3 portraits,—Mrs. Ashley, very like; Miss Fanny Wyndham as Contino in Scaramuccia, ridiculously like; and Bellini as Figaro; the 4th is a very beautiful head and hands of Juliet asleep after she has taken the draught. Mr. Lane likewise showed me a very beautiful miniature of Lady Blessington[257] painted by Chalon about 15 years ago; and a beautiful drawing of C. Kemble as Falstaff, done by himself. He is a great friend of Kemble’s and admires him beyond everything. He is also very intimate with Mr. Macready, and says he is such an excellent father and husband. Charles Mathews, he says, speaks Italian as well as he does French.... At 20 minutes p. 7 we went with dear Lehzen, Lady Theresa, Charles and Lord Ilchester &c. to the Opera. It was my dear I Puritani, and they were singing the opening Chorus when we came in. Grisi, Rubini, Lablache, and Tamburini made their first appearance this season, and were all enthusiastically cheered on their appearance, in particular my worthy Master and Rubini. There is not a word of truth in what was said about Grisi, for I never saw anything look more lovely that she did, and she sang deliciously, as did also Rubini whose voice seems to get if possible finer each year. It is useless to add that the singing of these 4 incomparable and unequalled artistes was, as always, perfection! with the exception perhaps of Lablache’s being a little hoarse at times; he did not look well and was not in his usual spirits I thought. The Quartet “Ah! te o cara,” the Polacca, “Suoni la tromba,” and “Ella è tremante” were all loudly encored. After the Opera was over the 4 cantanti were called out and loudly cheered....

Tuesday, 11th April.—Heard that poor Lady De L’Isle,[258] the King’s eldest daughter, had expired at 10 o’clock the night before. On the death of old Mrs. Strode last February, the King made Lady De L’Isle housekeeper of Kensington Palace; and she arrived here about 2 or 3 days after we came from Claremont, was confined with a daughter about a month ago, and was going on very well, when she was taken so alarmingly ill, I think on Sunday. It is very awful and very dreadful for her 4 poor children.

After 9 we breakfasted. At a little before 10 came the Dean till 12 minutes to 11. Read with him in the N.T. and in Hume. At 11 came my good Lablache and stayed till 6 minutes to 12. He was as good-humoured, kind, ready, and gentlemanlike as ever; there never is any difference in his manners or ways, may he be ill, well, tired or not tired, he is always in the same ready good-humour. He is perhaps a little greyer, mais voilà tout. He was in splendid voice and sang beautifully. It was quite a delight for me to hear his fine and unique voice again and to sing with him; it is such a support to my voice and he accompanies so agreeably. I sang first with him the favourite duo of mine: “Voglio dire,” from L’Elisire d’Amore; then “Una furtiva lagrima,” a pretty little Aria from the same opera, which I repeated and which Catone used to sing so nicely, as also “Quanto è bella quanto è cara” from L’Elisir, which I also sung. After this Lablache sang with Mamma and me “Se il fratel stringere” from Belisario, which he had never seen or even heard before!...

Thursday, 20th April.—I got up at 8. Read in the Exposition while my hair was doing. After 9 we breakfasted. Played and sang; practised for Lablache. Drew. At 20 minutes to 2 we went to the Drawing Room with dear Lehzen, Lady Mary Stopford,[259] Sir George Anson &c. The poor Queen not being well, the King held the Drawing-room, and (strange to say) Princess Augusta represented her. There were several young ladies presented, amongst whom were Lady Wilhelmina Stanhope (daughter to the Earl and Countess Stanhope),[260] a beautiful girl; Lady Fanny Cowper[261] (daughter to the Earl and Countess Cowper), also pretty; Lady Mary Grimston,[262] Miss Louisa Percy,[263] Miss Wynn (niece to the Duchess of Northumberland), Victoire Conroy, &c. The poor Duchess of Northumberland was unable to attend me, having a bad cold. We came home at 20 minutes p. 3....

Friday, 19th May.—Got up at 8. Wrote the brouillon of a French letter to dearest Aunt Louise while my hair was doing. After 9 we breakfasted. The children played in the room. At 10 Mary,[264] Lehzen, I and the children went out walking and came home at 10 minutes to 11. Wrote my letter to dearest Aunt Louise. At ½ p. 11 came M. Guazzaroni till 12. Received a letter from the King by Lord Conyngham....

Read in W. Scott’s Life. Received an address from the Mayor and City of Lincoln, which was presented by Colonel Sibthorp[265] and Mr. Edward Lytton Bulwer,[266] the two Members. I was attended by my dearest Lehzen, and Mamma by Lady Flora. Played and sung &c. Wrote my journal. Drew. Felt very miserable and agitated. Did not go down to dinner, but dined in my own room at 8 o’clock. Stayed up till 10.

Saturday, 20th May.—Got up after 8. After 9 we breakfasted. The dear children were in the room and played very merrily. Wrote a letter to the King, which Mamma had previously written for me. At 3 minutes past 11 came my buon Maestro Lablache, looking pale and coughing, and complaining he was still unwell and feared he would remain so till the weather became warmer....

Lablache
from recollection.
P.V. del:—
Kensington
Palace Aug. 1836.

LUIGI LABLACHE.
From a sketch by Princess Victoria.

Wednesday, 24th May.—Today is my 18th birthday! How old! and yet how far am I from being what I should be. I shall from this day take the firm resolution to study with renewed assiduity, to keep my attention always well fixed on whatever I am about, and to strive to become every day less trifling and more fit for what, if Heaven wills it, I’m some day to be!... At ½ p. 3 we drove out with Mary and dear Lehzen and came home at 5. The demonstrations of loyalty and affection from all the people were highly gratifying. The parks and streets were thronged and everything looked like a Gala day. Numbers of people put down their names and amongst others good old Lablache inscribed his.... At ½ p. 10 we went to the ball at St. James’s with the Duchess of Northumberland, dear Lehzen, Lady Flora and Lady Conroy &c. The King though much better was unable of course to be there, and the Queen neither, so that, strange to say, Princess Augusta made the honneurs! I danced first with Lord Fitzalan,[267] 2ndly with Prince Nicholas Esterhazy,[268] who is a very amiable, agreeable, gentlemanly young man; 3rdly with the Marquis of Granby[269]; 4thly with the Marquis of Douro[270] who is very odd and amusing; and 5thly and lastly with the Earl of Sandwich[271] who is an agreeable young man. I wished to dance with Count Waldstein who is such an amiable man, but he replied that he could not dance quadrilles, and as in my station I unfortunately cannot valse and gallop, I could not dance with him. The beauties there were (in my opinion) the Duchess of Sutherland, Lady Frances (or Fanny) Cowper, who is very pleasing, natural and clever-looking.... The Courtyard and the streets were crammed when we went to the Ball, and the anxiety of the people to see poor stupid me was very great, and I must say I am quite touched by it, and feel proud which I always have done of my country and of the English Nation. I forgot to say that before we went to dinner we saw the dear children. I gave my beloved Lehzen a small brooch of my hair.