"'What a dear sweet lady!' were the first words of Peter Parley when the Royal cavalcade had passed.
"'She is a dear sweet lady, Mr. Parley, and, what is more, she is as good as she is sweet,' said my friend, Major Meadows, who, afraid lest I should overwalk myself in my zeal for sight-seeing, had followed me from Westminster Abbey and luckily fallen in with me in the park, and he went on to relate many very interesting anecdotes of the young Queen, which Peter Parley took good care to remember because he knew they would gratify his young friends."
"'Her Majesty is doatingly fond of children, Mr. Parley,' said he, 'and that you know is always the sign of a good heart. Nothing can be finer than the traits of character exhibited in a little anecdote which Lady M – told me a day or two ago.
"'Not long since, her Majesty commanded Lady Barham, one of the ladies in waiting, to bring her family of lovely children to the new palace. They were greatly admired and fondly caressed by the Queen; when a beautiful little boy about three years of age artlessly said —
"'I do not see the Queen; I want to see the Queen;' upon which her Majesty, smiling, said —
"'I am the Queen, love;' and taking her little guest into her arms repeatedly kissed the astonished child.
"This little anecdote warmed old Peter Parley's heart towards the young Queen; nor did any of the stories which Major Meadows told me tend to lessen my regard for her. Peter Parley was pleased to hear that she has a proper sense of the importance of the station to which she has been called by Divine Providence.
"On the day on which she was proclaimed Queen of Great Britain she arrived in company with her royal mother at St. James's Palace for the purpose of taking part in the important ceremony. As they drove towards the palace the party received the most affectionate demonstrations of loyalty and attachment, the people following the carriages with a continuous cry of 'Long live the Queen' – 'God bless our youthful Queen, long may she live,' &c. Yet, exciting and exhilirating as were these acclamations, her Majesty's countenance exhibited marks only of anxiety and grief.
"They arrived at St. James's Palace a little before ten o'clock. When the old bell of the palace-clock announced that hour, the band struck up the National Anthem, the Park and Tower guns fired a double royal salute, and the young and trembling Queen, led by the Marquis of Lansdowne, President of the Council, appeared at an open window looking into the great court of the Palace. At the fervent and enthusiastic shout of the people who had come to witness the ceremony, her Majesty burst into tears, and, in spite of all her efforts to restrain them, they continued to flow down her pale cheeks all the time she remained at the window. Her emotions did not, however, prevent her from returning her acknowledgments for the devotedness of her people.
"Some of the most interesting anecdotes which Peter Parley heard, however, related to an earlier period of the Queen's life, when she was Princess Victoria.
"'Here is an anecdote which I heard at a Missionary Meeting, Mr. Parley,' said Major Meadows, 'and I assure you it told with great effect.'"
"A poor but truly pious widow, placed in charge of a lighthouse on the south coast of the Mersey, had resolved to devote the receipts of one day in the year, during the visiting season, to the Missionary cause. On one of these days, a lady in widow's weeds and a little girl in deep mourning came to see the lighthouse; sympathy in misfortune led to conversation, and before the unknown visitor took her departure they had most probably mingled their tears together. The lady left behind her a sovereign. The unusually large gratuity immediately caused a conflict in the breast of the poor woman, as to whether she was absolutely bound to appropriate the whole of it to the Missionary-box or not. At length she compromised, by putting in half-a-crown. But conscience would not let her rest: she went to bed, but could not sleep; she arose, took back the half-crown, put in the sovereign, went to bed and slept comfortably. A few days afterwards, to her great surprise, she received a double letter, franked, and on opening it, was no less astonished than delighted to find twenty pounds from the widow lady, and five pounds from the little girl in deep mourning. And who were that lady and that little girl, do you think? No other than her Royal Highness the Duchess of Kent and our present rightful and youthful sovereign."
"During one of the summer seasons of the Princess's childhood the Duchess of Kent resided in the neighbourhood of Malvern, and almost daily walked on the Downs. One day the Princess and her beautiful little dog Pero, of which she was uncommonly fond, happening considerably to outstrip the Duchess and governess, she overtook a little peasant girl about her own age. With the thoughtless hilarity of youth she made up to her, and without ceremony, said to her —
"'My dog is very tired, will you carry him for me if you please?'
"The good-natured girl, quite unconscious of the rank of the applicant, immediately complied, and tripped along by the side of the Princess for some time in unceremonious conversation. At length she said,
"'I am tired now, and cannot carry your dog any farther.'
"'Tired!' cried her Royal Highness, 'Impossible! Think what a little way you have carried him!'
"'Quite far enough,' was the homely reply; 'besides, I am going to my aunt's, and if your dog must be carried, why cannot you carry him yourself?'
"So saying, she placed Pero on the grass, and he again joyfully frisked beside his royal mistress.
"'Going to your aunt's;' rejoined the Princess, unheeding Pero's gambols; 'pray who is your aunt?'
"'Mrs. Johnson, the miller's wife.'
"'And where does she live?'
"'In that pretty little white house which you see just at the bottom of the hill, there;' said the unconscious girl, pointing it out among the trees; and the two companions stood still that the Princess might make sure that she was right, thus giving the Duchess and her companion time to come up.
"'Oh, I should like to see her!' exclaimed the light-hearted Princess; 'I will go with you, come let us run down the hill together.'
"'No, no, my Princess,' cried the governess, coming up and taking her Royal Highness's hand, 'you have conversed long enough with that little girl, and now the Duchess wishes you to walk with her.
"The awful words 'Princess' and 'Duchess' quite confounded the little peasant girl; blushing and almost overcome, she earnestly begged pardon for the liberties she had taken, but her fears were instantly allayed by the Duchess, who, after thanking her for her trouble in carrying Pero, recompensed her by giving her half-a-crown.
"Delighted, the little girl curtsied her thanks, and running on briskly to her aunt's, she related all that had passed, dwelling particularly on the apprehension she had felt when she discovered that it was the Princess whom she had desired to carry her dog herself. The half-crown was afterwards framed and hung up in the miller's homely parlour, as a memento of this pleasing little adventure."
"This is but a childish story, but Peter Parley loves to hear stories of good children, and he knows that his little friends love to hear them too."
"There was one anecdote of the Queen from which Peter Parley derived much pleasure, because it showed that, notwithstanding her high station, she is not unmindful of Him by whom 'Kings reign, and Princes decree justice.'
"A noble lord, one of her Majesty's ministers of state, not particularly remarkable for his observance of holy ordinances, recently arrived at Windsor Castle late one Saturday night.
"'I have brought down for your Majesty's inspection,' he said, 'some papers of importance, but as they must be gone into at length I will not trouble your Majesty with them to-night, but request your attention to them to-morrow morning.'
"'To-morrow morning!' repeated the Queen; 'to-morrow is Sunday, my lord.'
"'But business of state, please your Majesty – '
"'Must be attended to, I know,' replied the Queen, 'and as of course you could not come down earlier to-night, I will, if those papers are of such vital importance, attend to them after we come from church to-morrow morning.'
"To church went the royal party; to church went the noble lord, and much to his surprise the sermon was on 'The duties of the Sabbath!'
"'How did your lordship like the sermon?' enquired the young Queen.
"'Very much, your Majesty,' replied the nobleman, with the best grace he could.
"'I will not conceal from you,' said the Queen, 'that last night I sent the clergyman the text from which he preached. I hope we shall all be the better for it.'
"The day passed without a single word on the subject of the 'papers of importance,' and at night, when her Majesty was about to withdraw, 'To-morrow morning, my lord,' she said, 'at any hour you please, and as early as seven if you like, we will go into these papers.'
"His lordship could not think of intruding at so early an hour on her Majesty; 'Nine would be quite time enough.'
"'As they are of importance, my lord, I would have attended to them earlier, but at nine be it;' and at nine her Majesty was seated ready to receive the nobleman, who had been taught a lesson on the duties of the sabbath, it is hoped, he will not quickly forget.
"Exemplary as the young Queen is in her religious duties, however, Peter Parley was pleased to find that she does not allow her religion to consist in mere theory, but that in reality she clothes the poor and feeds the hungry.
"On one occasion when her Majesty, accompanied by her suite, was taking an airing on horseback, in the neighbourhood of Windsor, she was overtaken by a heavy shower, which forced the royal party to seek shelter in an outhouse belonging to a farm yard, where a poor man was busily employed making hurdles. Her Majesty entered into conversation with the man (who was totally ignorant who he was addressing), and finding that he had a large family and no means of supporting them beyond what he gained by making these hurdles, her Majesty enquired where he lived, and on taking her departure presented him with a sovereign. Next day she went, accompanied by her Royal Mother, to the cottage of the poor man, and finding his statement to be correct, immediately provided some good warm clothing for his wife and children. Her Majesty seemed very much pleased with the neatness and regularity of the cottage, and on taking her departure presented the poor woman with a five-pound note.
"There was no end to stories of this description, but I can only afford room for two or three more; one of which, in particular, shows how early the Queen has been taught to look up to the only source of real comfort in affliction.
"An old man who once served in the capacity of porter to the Duke of Kent, and who, in his old age and infirmity, has long since been pensioned by the Duchess, is not a little gratified at receiving a nod of recognition from her Majesty whenever her carriage chances to pass his cottage. The aged man has a daughter much afflicted, and who has been confined to bed for eight or ten years. On the evening of the late king's funeral this young woman was equally surprised and delighted at receiving from the Queen a present of the psalms of David in which was a marker worked by herself with a dove, the emblem of peace, in the centre. It pointed to the forty-first psalm, which her Majesty requested she would read, at the same time expressing a hope that its frequent perusal might bring an increase of peace to her mind.
"Another poor man named Smith, who had for several years swept the crossing opposite the avenue leading to Kensington palace, and whom her Majesty always kindly noticed, rarely passing through the gates without throwing him some silver from the carriage window, received a message on the morning after the Queen's accession informing him that her Majesty had ordered that a weekly allowance of eight shillings should be regularly paid him. The poor man, however, did not long enjoy his pension, dying within six months from its commencement.
"Short and brilliant as has been her Majesty's career however, and fondly and carefully as she has been watched over, her life affords a very striking instance of providential preservation.
"During one of their summer excursions on the southern coast of England, the Royal party sailed in the Emerald yacht, and proceeding up the harbour at Plymouth for the purpose of landing at the dock-yard, the yacht unfortunately, from the rapidity of the tide, ran foul of one of the hulks which lay off the yard. The shock was so great that the mainmast of the royal yacht was sprung in two places, and her sail and gaff (or yard by which the sail is supported) fell instantaneously upon the deck.