In the Days of Queen Victoria

by Eva March Tappan

The coronation of King William took place in September, but neither the Duchess nor the Princess was present. No one knew the reason of their absence, and, therefore, all sorts of stories were spread abroad. "The Princess is not strong enough to attend so long and wearisome a ceremonial," said one. "Her mother keeps her away to spite the King," declared another; and yet another reason assigned—and this was probably the true one—was that the Princess was not allowed to go because the King had refused to give her the place in the procession which her rank and position demanded.

Whatever reason may have been the correct one, the Princess remained at home, but she did some little traveling during the summer. It was only around the western part of the Isle of Wight, but to the child whose journeys until the previous season had been hardly more than from Kensington to London or to Claremont these little trips were full of interest.

The following summer brought much more of travel. Not only the King but the people of the kingdom in general were beginning to feel somewhat aggrieved that so little was seen of the Princess. The Duchess believed that the best way for the future Queen to know her realm was to see it, and that the best way to win the loyalty of her future subjects was for them to see her. She thought that her daughter was now old enough to enjoy and appreciate journeys through the country. These journeys were not lengthy, for the travelers did not leave England except for a short stay at Anglesey, but they could hardly fail to be of interest to a wide-awake girl of thirteen who wanted to "see things and know things."

The general course of their travel was from Kensington to the northwest, and its limit was the little island of Anglesey. Of course the child who had not been allowed to leave a haycock unfinished lest she should develop a tendency to leave things incomplete was not permitted to make an expedition like this without a vast amount of instruction. She was required to keep a journal, and she was seldom allowed to look upon the manufacture of any article without listening to an explanation of the process. It speaks well for her intelligence and her wish to learn that she seems to have been genuinely interested in these explanations. She found a tiny model of a cotton loom as fascinating as most children would find a new toy, and she was never weary of watching the manufacture of nails. As a memento of the visit to the nail-makers she carried away with the greatest delight a little gold box that they had presented to her. Within the box was a quill, and in the quill was a vast number of nails of all varieties, but so tiny that they could hardly be seen without a magnifying glass. Other gifts were made her. At the University Press she was presented with a richly bound Bible and a piece of white satin, on which was printed a glowing account of her visit. Here in Oxford she was enthusiastic in her enjoyment of the Bodleian Library. One thing in this library interested her especially, a book of Latin exercises in which Queen Elizabeth wrote when she was thirteen, just the age of the Princess. Of course the little visitor compared her own handwriting with that of Elizabeth, and the thought must have passed through her mind that some day her exercises and copybooks would perhaps be put into libraries to be looked at as she was looking at Queen Elizabeth's.

Other events than receiving gifts and studying manufactures came into those weeks of travel. The Princess laid the corner stone of a boys' school; she planted a little oak tree on the estate of one of her entertainers; in Anglesey she presented the prizes at the National Eisteddfod, a musical and literary festival which had been celebrated annually from ancient times; she listened to addresses without number from mayors and vice chancellors, and she was present at the formal opening of the new bridge over the Dee, which for this reason was named the Victoria Bridge. One thing which seems to have made a special impression upon the child's mind, and which she noted particularly in her journal, was that she was allowed to dine with her mother and the guests at seven o'clock.

Traveling in those days was quite a different matter from making a journey to-day. One or two short railroads had been built in England, but it was many years too early for the comfortable, rapid express trains of the present time, and the journeys of the Princess were made entirely by carriage. She had set off for Kensington with a little company of attendants, very few, indeed, considering her position as heir presumptive, but it was hardly possible, without offending the loyal people of the places through which they passed, to refuse the honors which were shown to her and her mother and the requests of the yeomanry of various counties that begged the privilege of escorting them. In the days of Queen Elizabeth, that lover of gorgeousness used to make journeys about her kingdom that were regarded as an excuse for all magnificence and lavishness. These were called progresses, and now King William often jested about "little Victoria's royal progresses." He was not exactly pleased, however, and he kept a somewhat jealous watch of the honors that were paid to her.

The next year the Princess and her mother spent considerable time in their yacht, and the King had a fresh cause of annoyance in the fact that now they were greeted not only with addresses but with the firing of guns. He could not endure that anyone but himself should receive the royal salutes. "The thing is not legal," he said to the naval authorities. "Stop those poppings." The naval authorities respectfully insisted that the thing was legal. The King had not learned wisdom from his previous encounters with the Duchess of Kent, and in his dilemma he actually tried to compel her to refuse to accept the salutes. The dignified lady replied with all courtesy: "If the King wishes to offer me a slight in the face of the people, he can offer it so easily that he should not ask me to make the task easier." King William was fairly worsted, but he would not yield. He called the Privy Council and ordered them to pass an order that even the royal flag should not be saluted unless the vessel flying it bore either the King or the Queen.

To turn from royal salutes and mayors' addresses and the laying of corner-stones to playing with dolls is a little startling, but such was the course of the Princess' life. She was heir to the throne, and she could bestow prizes and receive delegations and meet the eager gaze of thousands without being at all troubled or embarrassed, but she was a child for all that; she was not allowed to sit at the table when her mother gave an elaborate dinner party for the King, and she still retained her liking for the dolls that her lack of playmates had made so dear to her. There is now in existence a little copybook on which is written "List of my dolls." By their number and their interest, they certainly deserve the honor of being catalogued, even at the present time, for there were 132 of them, and they were often dressed to imitate noted persons of the day. Most of them were little wooden creatures from three to nine inches high, with sharply pointed noses, cheeks red as a cherry in some one spot—wherever the brush of the maker had chanced to hit—jet black hair, and the most convenient joints, that enabled the small bodies to be arranged in many attitudes. The men dolls had small black mustaches, and the women dolls were distinguished by little yellow "back-combs" painted on the black dab which represented their hair. The baby dolls were made of rags, upon which comical little faces were painted.

The fascination of these dolls does not lie in their beauty, but in their wardrobes. Most of them were dressed between 1831 and 1833, or when the Princess was from twelve to fourteen years old. One group represents the play of Kenilworth, which she had evidently seen. The Earl of Leicester is gorgeous in knee-breeches of pink satin, with slashes of white silk. His tunic reverses the order and is of white satin slashed with pink. He wears the blue ribbon of the Order of the Garter and a wide black velvet hat swept with yellow and white plumes. Queen Elizabeth appears in cloth of gold with enormous puffed sleeves. From her shoulders hangs a long train lined with bright crimson plush and trimmed with ermine. She wears crimson plush shoes and a heavy girdle of gold beads.

There are all sorts of characters among these little wooden people. There are court ladies, actors, and dandified young gallants. Perched on a table is a merry little ballet-dancer in blue satin trimmed with pink and yellow roses. There are mothers with their babies, and there is "Mrs. Martha," a buxom housekeeper, with a white lawn frock, full sleeves, and purple apron pinked all around. She wears a white lace cap adorned with many frills and tied under her small wooden chin with pink ribbons. She stands beside a home-made dressing table of cardboard covered with white brocade.