BUCKINGHAM PALACE.
We have been to the queen's country-home at Windsor, and will now visit her town-house, Buckingham Palace, which is also in St. James Park. Here stood a plain brick mansion, built in 1703 by the Duke of Buckingham, and in which was gathered the famous library of George III., which is now in the British Museum. The house was described as "dull, dowdy, and decent," but in 1825 it was greatly enlarged and improved, and Queen Victoria took possession of the new palace in 1837, and has lived there ever since. Her increasing family necessitated the construction of a large addition in 1846, and a few years afterwards the Marble Arch, which till then formed the entrance, was moved from Buckingham Palace to Hyde Park, and a fine ball-room constructed instead. This palace contains a gorgeously-decorated throne-room and a fine picture-gallery, the grand staircase leading up to the state-apartments being of marble. The gardens of Buckingham Palace cover about forty acres: in them are a pavilion and an attractive chapel, the latter having been formerly a conservatory. At the rear of the palace, concealed from view by a high mound, are the queen's stables or mews, so called because the royal stables were formerly built in a place used for keeping falcons. In these stables is the gaudily-decorated state coach, built in 1762 at a cost of $38,000. Marlborough House, the town-residence of the Prince of Wales, adjoins St. James Palace, but is not very attractive. It was originally built for the first Duke of Marlborough, who died in it, and is said to have been designed by Wren, having afterwards been enlarged when it became a royal residence.
BUCKINGHAM PALACE, GARDEN FRONT.
KENSINGTON PALACE.
KENSINGTON PALACE, WEST FRONT.
Standing on the west side of the Kensington Gardens is the plain, irregular red brick structure known as Kensington Palace, which was originally Lord Chancellor Finch's house. William III bought it from his grandson, and greatly enlarged it. Here died William and Mary, Queen Anne, and George II., and here Victoria was born. Perhaps the most interesting recent event that Kensington Palace has witnessed was the notification to this princess of the death of William IV. He died on the night of June 19, 1837, and at two o'clock the next morning the Archbishop of Canterbury and the lord chamberlain set out to announce the event to the young sovereign. They reached Kensington Palace about five o'clock, early, but in broad daylight, and they knocked and rang and made a commotion for a considerable time before they could arouse the porter at the gate. Being admitted, they were kept waiting in the courtyard, and then, seeming to be forgotten by everybody, they turned into a lower room and again rang and pounded. Servants appearing, they desired that an attendant might be sent to inform the princess that they requested an audience on business of importance. Then there was more delay, and another ringing to learn the cause, which ultimately brought the attendant, who stated that the princess was in such a sweet sleep she could not venture to disturb her. Thoroughly vexed, they said, "We are come to the queen on business of state, and even her sleep must give way to that." This produced a speedy result, for, to prove that it was not she who kept them waiting, Victoria in a few minutes came into the room in a loose white nightgown and shawl, with her hair falling upon her shoulders and her feet in slippers, shedding tears, but perfectly collected. She immediately summoned her council at Kensington Palace, but most of the summonses were not received by those to whom they were sent till after the early hour fixed for the meeting. She sat at the head of the table, and, as a lady who was then at court writes, "she received first the homage of the Duke of Cumberland, who was not King of Hanover when he knelt to her; the Duke of Sussex rose to perform the same ceremony, but the queen with admirable grace stood up, and, preventing him from kneeling, kissed him on the forehead. The crowd was so great, the arrangements were so ill made, that my brothers told me the scene of swearing allegiance to their young sovereign was more like that of the bidding at an auction than anything else."