In the Days of Queen Victoria Page 3

  CHAPTER II

  THE SCHOOLDAYS OF A PRINCESS

  Nothing could be more simple than the order of the Princess' day atKensington. Breakfast was at eight, and it was eaten out of doorswhenever the weather was good. The Princess sat in a tiny rosewoodchair beside her mother, and the little girl's breakfast was spread ona low table before her. Whatever other children might have, there wereno luxuries for this child. Bread and milk and fruit made up herbreakfast, and nothing more would have been given her no matter how shemight have begged for it. After breakfast she would have liked to playwith her beloved Feodore, but Feodore had to go to her lessons. Whenthe weather was fair, however, a pleasure awaited the little girl. Heruncle, the Duke of York, had given her a white donkey, and at this hourshe was allowed to ride it in Kensington Gardens. Her nurse walkedbeside her, and on the other side was an old soldier whom her fatherhad especially liked. This riding was a great delight to the child, butthere was sometimes a storm of childish wrath before the hour was over,for the Duchess had said, "She must ride and walk by turns," and whenthe turn came for walking, the tiny maiden often objected to obeyingher mother's orders.

  When it was time for the Duchess to eat luncheon, the Princess had herdinner, but it was so simple a meal that many of the servants of thepalace would have felt themselves very hardly used if they had had nogreater variety and no richer fare. The afternoon was often spent underthe trees, and at some time, either before supper or after, came adrive with her mother. Supper was at seven, but the little girl's mealconsisted of nothing but bread and milk. At nine o'clock she was put tobed, not in the nursery, but in her mother's room, for the Duchess hadno idea of being separated from her children, and the Princess Feodoreslept at one side of her mother, while on the other hand stood thelittle bed of the baby sister.

  It was a simple, happy, healthy life. The great objection to it wasthat the child rarely had a playmate of her own age. Two little girls,daughters of an old friend of the Duke's, came once a week to see her,but they were several years her seniors. Feodore was never weary ofplaying with her, but Feodore was almost twelve years older, so thatwhen the child was four years old, Feodore was quite a young lady.Perhaps no one realized how much she needed children of her own age,for she was so merry and cheerful, so ready to be pleased and amused,and so friendly with everyone who came near her.

  A learned clergyman reported that when he called on the Duchess thelittle Princess was on the floor beside her mother with her playthings"of which I soon became one," he added.

  One day the Duchess said: "Drina, there is a little girl only a yearolder than you who plays wonderfully well on the harp. Should you liketo hear her?"

  "I'm almost four years old," was the child's reply. "What is her name?"

  "She is called Lyra," said the Duchess. "Should you like to hear herplay?"

  The Princess was very fond of music even when she was hardly more thana baby, and she could scarcely wait for the day to come when she couldhear the little girl. At last Lyra and her harp were brought to thepalace, and the music began. The talented child played piece afterpiece, then she stopped a moment to rest. This was the Princess'opportunity. Music was good, but a real little girl was a great rarity,and the small hostess began a conversation.

  "Does your doll have a red dress?" she asked. "Mine has, and she has abonnet with swans-down on it. Does yours have a bonnet?"

  "I haven't any doll," answered Lyra.

  "Haven't you any playroom?" asked the Princess wonderingly.

  "No," said the little musician.

  The Princess had supposed that all children had dolls and toys, and shesaid: "I have a playroom upstairs, and there are dolls in it and ahouse for them and a big, big ship like the one my papa sailed in once.Haven't you any ship or any doll-house?"

  "No."

  "Haven't you any sister Feodore?"

  "No."

  Then the warm-hearted little Princess threw her arm around the childmusician and said:

  "Come over here to the rug, and let's play. You shall have some of myplaythings, and perhaps your mamma will make you a doll-house when yougo home."

  The Duchess had left the two children for a few minutes, and when shereturned they were sitting on the fur rug in front of the fire. Theharp was forgotten, and they were having a delightful time playingdolls, just as if they were not the one a princess and the other amusical prodigy. They were too busy to notice the Duchess, and as shestood at the door a moment, she heard her little daughter saying:

  "You may have the doll to take home with you, Lyra. Put on her reddress and her white bonnet and her cloak, for she'll be ill if youdon't. Her name is Adelaide, for that is my aunt's name."

  The Princess was not yet four years old, but her mother was beginningto feel somewhat anxious about her education. Other children mightplay, but the child who was to be queen of England must not be allowedto give even her babyhood to amusement. The mother began to teach herthe alphabet, but the little girl had a very decided will of her own,and she did not wish to learn the alphabet.

  "But you will never be able to read books as I do, if you do notlearn," said the mother.

  "Then I'll learn," promised the child. "I'll learn very quick."

  The alphabet was learned, but the resolutions of three-year oldchildren do not always endure, and the small student objected tofurther study.

  "My little girl does not like her books as well as I could wish," wrotethe Duchess to her mother; but the grandmother took the part of thechild. "Do not tease your little puss with learning," was her reply."She is so young still. Albert is only making eyes at a picture book."This Albert was one of the Princess' German cousins only a few weeksyounger than she; and the great delight of the Coburg grandmother wasto compare the growth and attainments of the two children and note alltheir amusing little speeches.

  The Duchess, however, did not follow the advice of her mother, but morethan a month before her little daughter was four years old she decidedto engage a tutor for her. She herself and Feodore were reading Englishwith the Rev. Mr. Davys, the clergyman of a neighboring parish, andduring even the first few lessons the Duchess was so charmed with hisgentle, kindly manner and his intellectual ability that she said to himone day: "You teach so well that I wish you would teach my littledaughter."

  So it was that the learned clergyman appeared at the palace one brightApril morning armed with a box of alphabet blocks. The Duchess seemedquite troubled and anxious about the small child's intellectualdeficiencies, and when the preparations for the lesson had been made,she said:

  "Now, Victoria, if you are good and say your lesson well, I will giveyou the box of bright-colored straw that you wanted."

  "I'll be good, mamma," the little girl promised, "but won't you pleasegive me the box first?"

  The lesson began with a review of the alphabet; then came a strugglewith the mysterious _b-a, b-e, b-i, b-o, b-u, b-y_, "which we did notquite conquer," the tutor regretfully writes. Mr. Davys kept a journalof the progress of the Princess during the first two years of hisinstruction, and he records gravely after the second lesson that shepronounced _much_ as _muts_, that he did not succeed in teaching her tocount as far as five, and that when he tried to show her how to make an_o_, he could not make her move her hand in the right direction. Itseems to have been a somewhat willful little hand, for a week laterwhen he wished her to make an _h_, she would make nothing but _o's._"If you will make _h_ to-day," said the patient tutor, "you shall havea copy of _o's_ to-morrow;" but when to-morrow had come and the copyhad been prepared, the capricious little maiden did not care to make_o_, she preferred to make _h_.

  The troubled instructor tried various plans to interest his smallcharge. He wrote short words on cards and asked her to bring them tohim from another part of the room as he named them. He read her storiesand nursery rhymes, and one day, when he seems to have been almost athis wit's end, he persuaded the Princess Feodore and her governess tostand with his little pupil and recite as if they were in a class ats
chool. His report for that day records with a good deal of satisfaction,"This seemed to please her." Willful as she was, however, she was verytender-hearted, and when he asked her to spell the word _bad_, shesobbed and cried, because she fancied that he was applying it toherself.

  When Mr. Davys came in the morning, he would frequently inquire if shehad been good. One day he asked the Duchess:

  "Was the Princess good while she was in the nursery?"

  "She was good this morning," replied her mother, "but yesterday therewas quite a little storm."

  "Yes, mamma," added the honest little girl, "there were two storms, onewhen I was washed and another when I was dressed."

  Sometimes her honesty put her mother into a difficult position. One daythe Duchess said:

  "Victoria, when you are naughty you make both me and yourself veryunhappy."

  "No, mamma," the child replied, "not me, but you."

  The lessons went on with much regularity, considering that the pupilwas a princess. On her fourth birthday she not only had a birthdayparty, but she was invited to court. "Uncle King," as she called GeorgeIV., gave a state dinner, and she was asked to be one of the guests.Most children, however, would have thought the invitation hardly worthaccepting, for she was only brought into the room for a few minutes tospeak to the King and the royal family, then she was taken away to eather usual simple meal.

  When the Princess had been studying with Mr. Davys about five months,she was taken to the seashore, and from there she wrote, or, rather,printed, a letter to her tutor. It said:

  "MY DEAR SIR I DO NOT FORGET MY LETTERS NOR WILL I FORGET YOU VICTORIA."

  The name Alexandrina had been gradually dropped. The Duchess had fearedat first that as "Victoria" was unfamiliar in England, the Englishpeople might dislike it. Moreover, as the royal brothers were sounfriendly to her, she did not wish that the use of her name shouldprejudice them against the child. There was little danger of anyonedisliking the child, however, for she was so winsome a young maidenthat whoever spoke to her became her friend. One of her most devotedadmirers was her Uncle Leopold, and her idea of the highest bliss wasto make a visit at his house. A few months after the beginning of hereducation, she visited him, and Mr. Davys drove to the house twice aweek to continue her instruction. Her uncle was present at the lessons,and he was as troubled as the Duchess because little Victoria did notlike to read.

  It is no wonder that the child enjoyed her visits to Claremont. PrinceLeopold's home was a large brick mansion, with stately cedars on thelawn, and high up on a column a great bronze peacock that was a sourceof wonder and amusement. There was a lake, with groves of pines beyondit. There was a farm, with lambs and calves and ducklings. Best of all,there was Uncle Leopold, who was always ready to walk or drive withher, and to tell her wonderful stories.

  It was very delightful to visit an uncle who was a prince, but even atClaremont it was never forgotten that the wee child was being trainedto be a queen. The stories must not be without a moral; her uncle'scharming talks of flowers and animals must be planned to introduce herto botany and natural history; and even in her play she was carefullywatched lest some thoughtlessness should be overlooked which ought tobe checked. One day she took her tiny rake and began to make a haycock,but before it was done something else interested her, and she droppedthe rake. "No, no, Princess," called her governess, "come back andfinish the haycock. You must never leave a thing half done."

  In Kensington she was never taken to church, lest she should attracttoo much attention, but service was read in the chapel of the palace.At Claremont, however, she went to the village church. She usually worea white dress, made as simply as that of any village child, and a plainlittle straw bonnet; but at the church door the resemblance ended, forwhile other children might fidget about or perhaps go to sleep, thePrincess had some hard work to do. Mr. Davys had said that she was"volatile," and disliked fixing her attention. That fault must becorrected, of course, and so the child was required to remember andrepeat to her mother not only the text but the principal heads of thesermon, no matter how uninteresting it might be. The little girl musthave longed to do something, somewhere, with no one to watch her. Thereis a story that when she once went to visit the Duchess of Clarence,her aunt asked: "Now, Victoria, what should you like to do? What willbe the greatest treat I can give you?" and, the little child replied,"Oh, Aunt Adelaide, if you will only let me clean the windows, I'drather do that than anything else."

  Money matters had become somewhat easier for the Duchess, as anallowance had been made her which enabled her to give the Princess suchsurroundings and advantages as ought to be given to one in herposition. Nevertheless, the simplicity of the child's daily life wasnot altered, and her pocket money was not made any more lavish. Whenthe little girl was seven years old, she was taken to a bazaar, whereshe bought presents for one after another until she had reached thebottom of her rather shallow purse. But there was a half-crown box thatshe did so want to give to someone!

  "I should like this very much," she said wistfully, "but I have no moremoney to-day."

  "That makes no difference," replied the storekeeper, and he began towrap the box with her other purchases.

  "No," objected the governess, "the Princess has not the money, and shemust not buy what she cannot pay for."

  "Then I will lay it aside until she can purchase it," said thestorekeeper, and the little girl exclaimed, "Oh, thank you! if you willbe so good."

  When the day for the payment of her allowance came, the child did notdelay a moment, but long before her breakfast hour she appeared at thestore to pay for the box and carry it home with her. She was not at allafraid of carrying bundles, and thought it was a delightful expeditionto go to the milliner's with her mother and Feodore to buy a new hat,to wait in the shop until it was trimmed, and then carry it home in herown hand.

  The great excitement of her seventh year was the visit that she paidthe King. Disagreeable as he often was to the mother, he made himselfquite charming to the child, and he was delighted with the frankaffection that she showed him in return.

  "The band shall play whatever you choose," he said to her. "What shallit be?"

  "I should like 'God Save the King,'" replied the little girl.

  It was hard to be jealous of such an heir to the throne as that. Duringher stay the King had taken her to drive, and this was a great event,for he himself had held the reins. When she was saying farewell at theclose of the three-days' visit, he asked, "What have you enjoyed mostduring your visit?" and he was much pleased when she answered, "Oh,Uncle King, the drive I had with you." It is no wonder that thegrandmother in Coburg wrote, "The little monkey must have pleased andamused him; she is such a pretty, clever child."

  The Duchess was beginning to receive the reward that she deserved forgiving up her home and her friends, not only in the result of herdevotion to her little daughter as shown in the child's character, butalso in the appreciation of herself and her efforts which was felt inher adopted country. In both the House of Lords and the House ofCommons speeches had been made paying the warmest tributes to themanner in which she was bringing up the little girl who was to becomethe queen.

  Before Victoria was eight years old, it was thought to be time for hereducation to receive still more attention, though one would supposethat there need have been no anxiety about the intellectual progress ofthe child, who before she was six years old could repeat the heads ofone of the lengthy sermons of the day. Mr. Davys was now formallyappointed her tutor, and he went to live at Kensington. Then, indeed,there was work. Miss Lehzen, governess of the Princess Feodore, taughtthe child as usual; a writing-master made his appearance, who taughther the clear, refined, and dignified hand that never changed; ateacher of singing was engaged; another teacher instructed her indancing; a Royal Academician taught her drawing; German and French werealso studied.

  Mr. Davys' special work was to teach her history and English, and thenumber of books that she read with him is somewhat startling. Dur
ingthe year 1826 there were four books of Scriptural stories and fourbooks of moral stories on her list. The children's books of the day hada fashion of not being satisfied with teaching one thing at a time, andeven one of the four natural histories that she read contrived to makethe story of each bird contain some profound moral instruction. Onebook on English history and one on modern history in general appear onthe list. Geography and grammar are each represented by two smallvolumes. Poetry appears in the form of "The Infant's Minstrel," a titlewhich the eight-year old child of to-day would utterly scorn. "GeneralKnowledge" is represented by one book on the famous picture galleries,castles, and other noteworthy structures in England, and anotherdescribing the occupations and trades of the land. Even here, however,moral lessons had their allotted place, and each trade was made toteach some moral truth. The third book of the series described thequaint old customs of the kingdom.

  During the following three years the instruction of the Princess wascontinued on similar lines. In 1827, the year in which her eighthbirthday occurred, she began a book with the comprehensive title, "AnIntroduction to Astronomy, Geography, and the Use of the Globes." Aftershe had studied this book with the hard name for two years, it seems agreat intellectual downfall to find her "promoted" to "Elements ofGeography for the Use of Young Children." In 1828 she began Latin.She also studied the catechism and then an abridgment of the twoTestaments. Remembering that the little girl was studying French,German, music, dancing, and drawing, one wonders how she ever"crowded it in." Fortunately, her schedule for the week has beenpreserved, and it is interesting reading. Her day's work began athalf-past nine. On Monday morning the first hour was given togeography and natural history, the second to a drawing lesson. Fromhalf-past eleven till three was devoted to dinner and either playingor walking. From three to four she drew or wrote a Latin exercise.The following hour was given to French, and from five to six camemusic and "repetition"--whatever that may have been--for Mr. Davys.After her three hours of study in the afternoon, without even aten-minutes' "recess," the day's work was at an end, and from six tonine there was no more studying; but there seems to have been someinstructive reading aloud by either the Duchess or Miss Lehzen, forthe story has survived that when the Duchess was reading Romanhistory and read the old story of Cornelia's pointing to her sons anddeclaring, "These are my jewels," the small critic remarked, "But,mamma, she ought to have said, 'These are my carnelians.'"

  No two days in the Princess' week were alike. One hour a week wasdevoted to learning the catechism, another to a dancing lesson, anotherto needlework and learning poetry by heart. All this teaching went onfor six days in the week, for she had no Saturday holidays; and onSaturday morning came an hour that would alarm most children, for itwas devoted to a repetition to Mr. Davys of all that she had learnedduring the week. Her lessons were made as interesting as possible byexplanations and stories and pictures and games. A history and a littleGerman grammar were written expressly for her; but, after all, thelittle girl was the one who had to do the work. She had to understandand learn and remember, and even if she was a princess no one could dothese things for her. Sir Walter Scott dined with the Duchess of Kentduring Victoria's ninth year. He wrote in his journal: "Was presentedto the little Princess Victoria, the heir-apparent to the throne asthings now stand." It is no wonder that he added, "This lady iseducated with much care."

  The same year stole away the beloved Feodore, for she married a Germanprince and went to the Continent to live. This was a great loss to thelittle Princess, for she was so carefully guarded that Feodore had beenalmost her only playmate. Other children had companions without number;they went to children's parties and had good times generally; but aparty was a great rarity in the life of the Princess, and she was tenyears old before she went to a children's ball.

  This famous ball which she then attended was her first sight of a courtceremonial. It was given in honor of a little girl of her own age,Maria, Queen of Portugal, who was making a visit to England. ThePrincess wore a simple white dress, but the little Donna Maria wasgorgeous in crimson velvet all ablaze with jewels. Every one wascomparing the two children in dress and looks and manners. The plaindress of the Princess was generally preferred, and her graceful mannerswere admired, but the Portuguese queen was called the prettier. Whenthe King first talked of giving this ball, a lady of the courtexclaimed, "Oh, do! It will be so nice to see the _two little queens_dancing together." The King was very angry at the speech, but hefinally decided to give the ball, and the "two little queens" did dancein the same quadrille. It is rather sad to relate that the small ladyfrom Portugal fell down and hurt herself, and, in spite of the sympathyof the King, she went away crying, while the English Princess danced onand had the most delightful evening of her life. Then Cinderella wentto bed, and in the morning she awoke to the workaday world that she hadleft for a single evening.