The Princess was taught to exercise self-control and self-restraint and greatly admired these traits in other people. One day she accompanied her governess on a shopping expedition. They went to a jeweller’s shop and waited while the clerk attended to another customer, a young lady who was selecting a gold chain. After careful consideration she chose one that suited her but, when she learned the price, replied regretfully:
“It is too much. I cannot afford to buy one so costly.”
The young Princess had been an interested observer of the incident and, after the lady had left, she asked the shop-keeper if he knew her.
“Yes,” he replied, “she is one of our regular customers.”
“Then,” said the princess, “send her the chain she wished so much to possess and I will pay for it. Tell her the Princess Alexandrina wished her to accept it for her self-control in resisting the temptation to buy what she could not afford to have.”
Queen Victoria was not always called Victoria. When she was born there had been considerable discussion regarding a suitable name for her. The Duke of Kent, her father, decided on Elizabeth, always a favourite with the English people, but her uncle, the Prince Regent, was emphatic in his assertion that Alexandrina was what she should be called in honor of the Russian emperor. A second name, Victoria, after her mother, was added.
It was as Little Drina that the child was known and Princess Drina when she grew older. It was her own act when she became sovereign that gave the Empire a Queen Victoria instead of a Queen Alexandrina. The official documents had been made out in the latter name but the young Queen, when affixing her signature for the first time after the Council meeting, firmly wrote “Victoria,” signifying that henceforth that was how she wished to be known.
When she was a little girl she used to have her breakfast of fruit, bread and milk, at eight o’clock, sitting at a small table beside her mother. After a walk or drive came two hours of lessons. There was a recess for play and the noon-day meal then more lessons until four o’clock. She had to study hard. French, German and Italian had to be mastered in addition to mathematics, history and other subjects; drawing, painting and music were allotted a certain amount of time. But her mother was careful that these should not crowd out the Word of God and instructed her tutor to include a study of the Bible among the daily lessons.
She was a truthful child. One day, her teacher, Dr. Davys, found his pupil in an impatient mood and the lesson had to be gone over. At its conclusion the Duchess of Kent came into the room and inquired of the governess, Baroness Lehzen, how her daughter and been behaving.
“Once,” the governess replied, “she was inclined to be troublesome.”
Princess Drina leaned over and touched her arm, saying:
“No, Lehzen. It was twice, don’t you remember?”
Although the Princess came of royal blood and lived in palaces she early learned the value of money. Economy and not lavish expenditure was the rule. When she was but eight years of age she attended a bazaar where there were many delightful articles for sale. She bought present after present to give to her relatives and friends until at last her money was all spent.
Then she remembered a cousin for whom she had nothing and, seeing a box valued at half-a-crown, thought it was exactly what she wanted for him. Unfortunately there was nothing left in her purse and the lady in charge of the stall suggested that she take it home anyway. This, however, the governess would not hear of her doing.
“No,” she said, “the Princess cannot pay for it now. If you will be kind enough to put it aside for her she may buy it with her next quarter’s allowance.”
It was a happy little girl who, on receiving her spending money, gaily rode her donkey to the bazaar and brought away the coveted box.
It was not easy for the young Queen to take upon herself the cares of state; it meant self-sacrifice and self-denial and putting the good of the country above her own pleasure. She had early been taught what the position meant. When she was but thirteen some one mentioned that she was in the line of succession and might possibly become Queen. The little girl looked grave and said: “The honour is great, but the responsibility is greater.”
Victoria realized the weight of the burden that had been thrust upon her. During the Coronation ceremonies at St. James, when the heralds proclaimed her before that great congregation, tears came unbidden to her eyes. Mrs. Browning describes the scene poignantly:
She saw no purple shine,
For tears had dimmed her eyes;
She only knew her childhood’s flowers
Were happier pageantries!
And while the heralds played their part
Those million shouts to drown —
“God save the Queen,” from hill to mart —
She heard through all her beating heart,
And turned and wept;
She wept to wear a crown.
God bless thee, weeping Queen,
With blessings more divine,
And fill with better love than earth
That tender heart of thine;
That when the thrones of earth shall be
As low as graves brought down,
A pierced Hand may give to thee
The crown that angels shout to see,
Thou wilt not weep
To wear that heavenly crown.
It was well for England that the new monarch was God-fearing and upright. Other dynasties were tottering on their thrones and if there had been anything in the life of the English Queen at which the finger of reproach or scorn could have been pointed who can say what the result might have been. Would her land, at the end of the long Victorian reign, have increased in strength and power the way it did or would history have recorded a parallel to the French Revolution?
In her choice of a life companion Queen Victoria looked for one whose religious life and thought would coincide with her own. Fortunately she found such a person in Prince Albert of Saxe-Coburg. At one time, before Victoria came to the throne, Prince Albert and his brother came to England to visit. The young people were much together and went to see many places in London. One day they attended service in St. Paul’s Cathedral when the singing by the charity school pupils attracted considerable attention. Victoria, however, “observed that her younger cousin, Albert, paid very marked attention to the sermon as well as the singing; and from this time, it seems, she made up her mind as to who should be her future partner in life if ever she married.”
Prince Albert reciprocated the affection the Queen felt for him but, although he was in love with her for over two years, he could not, owing to his inferior rank, ask her to marry him. Victoria had to do the proposing herself. She writes in her journal. “On Tuesday, October 15th, the two princes went out hunting early but came back about twelve. At halfpast twelve I sent for Albert. He came to the closet where I was alone. After a few minutes I said to him that I thought he must be aware why I wished him to come, and that it would make me too happy if he would consent to what I wished (namely to marry me).”
Parliament had, of course, to approve of the marriage before it could take place. At the opening of the session the Queen spoke from the throne: “I humbly implore that the divine blessing may prosper this union, and render it conducive to the interests of my people, as well as my domestic happiness; and it will be to me a source of lively satisfaction to find the resolution I have taken approved by my Parliament.”
Her married life was very happy. When the Prince Consort died on the 14th of December, 1861, the Queen was inconsolable. In her position, exalted above her subjects, she had few who treated her as equals. The morning after her husband died she remarked pathetically:
“There is no one to call me Victoria now.”
She did not let her grief interfere with her duties as queen, always putting the welfare of her country first. During her long reign of over sixty-three years England prospered. At one time an Eastern potentate came to visit Great Britain and when he saw the extent of th
e shipping at the port of entry and the hum of business in London with its majestic buildings, Westminster Abbey, the Houses of Parliament, St. Paul’s Cathedral, he marvelled. What a contrast to the conditions in his own land!
The Prince desired to have an interview with the ruler of all this splendour and when talking to Queen Victoria he inquired concerning the secret of England’s greatness.
“It is the Bible,” she replied.
Her death was a personal sorrow to her subjects at home and across the seas. All felt they had lost a wise and loving mother whose care was unremitting and unfailing. Far away, in South Africa, a dusky Zulu chief, when he was informed of the passing of the great White Queen, said sorrowfully: “Then I shall see another star in the sky.”
CHAPTER VII. COURAGE IN DANGER: MADELEINE DE VERCHÈRES
IN the grey light of an early October morning a young girl of fourteen stood on the bank of the river, scanning the countryside. She discerned dim figures in the fields. Were they but the settlers beginning work or were they — ? The next moment her question was answered by the popping of shots.
“Fly!” cried the old servant who was with her. “Fly for your life! The Indians are coming!”
Madeleine and the old man raced toward the fort. One glance at that band of screaming savages, hideous in war-paint, had been sufficient. She knew that the dreaded Iroquois had come and were murdering the farmers as they started their day’s tasks.
With fifty braves, shouting their blood-curdling war-whoops, in full pursuit the young girl and her companion ran as they had never run before. Would the terrible enemy catch up to them? Madeleine did not look behind but made straight for the gates of Fort Verchères which were ajar. Once she felt a bullet whiz past. The redskins were fearful their prey was going to slip through their fingers and were firing because they could not overtake them.
“To arms! to arms!” Madeleine cried when the threshold was crossed.
But there was no response. Only two soldiers had been left in the fort and these, instead of hurrying to aid the girl, had hidden. Madeleine did not waste time looking for them just then but shut the gate and bolted it.
The night before she had not slept well. Several times she had arisen to gaze out of the windows. Something, she knew not what, had made her uneasy. She fancied there had been strange sounds but she could not discover anything amiss and had tried to reassure herself by saying:
“It is only the beasts of the forest and the wind sighing through the treetops.”
However, she had not been altogether satisfied and at break of day had sallied forth on a tour of inspection. Her father and mother were not at home. They had gone to Montreal, twenty miles up the St. Lawrence River, leaving Madeleine and her two younger brothers, lads of ten and twelve, in the fort. In those days the colonists in Canada knew the horrors of Indian warfare and were on the alert for sudden attacks but so wily were the Iroquois that they often came like a thunderbolt out of a clear sky, when their victims least expected them.
Safe within the enclosure Madeleine hurried to examine the defences. There were several gaps in the palisades where the sticks had fallen. She called her young brothers and, with their help, placed these again in position. Then she went in search of the two soldiers and found them cowering in a dark corner of the blockhouse, one with a lighted match in his hand.
“What,” inquired Madeleine, “are you doing with that?”
“I am going to blow up the fort,” the soldier answered, pointing to a keg of gunpowder. “Far better that kind of a death than torture at the hands of the savages.”
Madeleine acted promptly. She seized the match and extinguished it.
“You,” she said, hotly, “are a miserable coward. Get out of here.”
She scolded them roundly and as they listened they felt ashamed of themselves.
“We are at your command, Mademoiselle,” they said saluting.
Up until now Madeleine had been wearing the sunbonnet she had had on when she went out to reconnoitre but this was soon discarded and in its stead she donned a soldier’s hat. Musket in hand, she addressed the small company — two young boys, one old man, two soldiers and some women and children.
“We must defend the fort,” she said. “We must on no account let the Iroquois capture it. Let us fight to the death for God and our country.”
The two young boys, filled with courage by their sister’s example, fired from the loopholes at the Indians who, not knowing what force was in arms behind the stockade, were hesitating to attack in broad daylight. The musket shots warned them not to approach too closely. While debating what to do they heard the boom! boom! of the cannon Madeleine had ordered the soldiers to load and fire. That convinced the Iroquois that the garrison was in earnest so they withdrew to a safe distance to plan their next move.
This gave the handful of defenders an opportunity to lay aside their weapons and finish preparations for the defence of the fort.
From a look-out Madeleine saw that the Indians had ceased to advance and at the same time she saw something else. On the river there was a canoe which was rapidly nearing the landing-place. In it was a settler and his family who were coming to the fort for protection.
What should she do? If they did not receive help the man and his wife and children would certainly be killed by the Indians who were lurking nearby.
It did not take long for the young girl to make up her mind. Putting on a brave front she ran down to the river to meet the newcomers. The red men could not understand this action. It must be a trick, they said to themselves, to lure them into the open. So they remained where they were while Madeleine piloted the Frenchman and his family into the fort.
It was during the hours of the night that she feared most for the safety of those in her care. The Indians, she knew, would creep up under cover of darkness and surprise the defenders if they could.
She stationed her forces to the best advantage. The women and children were sent to the blockhouse, the safest spot in the fort, and the two soldiers and the settler placed there on guard. Her two brothers, the old servant and herself were to man the bastions. Before dispersing to their various posts Madeleine spoke to the small company.
“Never surrender,” she commanded, “even though I should be cut in pieces and burned before your eyes.”
That night a storm came from the northwest and hail, snow and heavy wind blew in their faces as the gallant little band kept watch. They never faltered but all throughout the long, dreary night the cry rang forth from sentinel to sentinel:
“All’s well!”
About two o’clock in the morning the guard posted at the gate heard a noise that was different from the howling of the wind or the pattering of hail. Could it be the enemy? He looked out and saw what appeared to be a number of cattle outside the palisades. Was this a scheme of the Indians? Did they think to enter by a ruse of some sort?
Madeleine waited. It was not until she was certain there were no savages at hand that she and her brothers, with muskets ready to use if necessary, opened the gates and brought in the cattle.
Hour after hour dragged on. It seemed as though the night would never end. Every moment they feared to hear dreadful war-whoops from dusky throats storming the picketed wall. Anxiously they watched for the first flush of dawn and the coming day.
When at last the sun’s rays dispelled the shadows the weary but indomitable girl addressed her followers.
“Le bon Dieu has helped us. We shall be saved.”
Outside the fort there was bedding and linen that had been spread on the grass before the alarm had been given. Madeleine did not wish to have the quilts and other necessities fall into the savages’ grasp so, after a careful survey and cautious sortie she and her two brothers sallied forth, with their trusty muskets, and brought the articles inside the gate. It took two trips to fetch it all, but the Indians, observing what was going on from behind the not-distant tree-trunks, were puzzled and made no attempt to molest them.
/> Day after day and night after night the small garrison kept at their posts, for there was no one to relieve them. A week had passed and still no help had come. How much longer would the Iroquois put off the intended attack? They had been waiting, under the impression that a strong force of soldiers held the fort, for a chance to catch the white men unawares. Although they had burned the houses of the unprotected settlers and had driven away or slaughtered their cattle they were more hesitant to attack a stronghold that apparently was stoutly guarded.
On the night of the eighth day while Madeleine was snatching a few moments sleep with her head pillowed on a table, her musket cradled in her arms, the sentry on duty heard someone nearing the stockade. He cried out:
“Qui vive?”
At once Madeleine wakened and joining the sentry demanded:
“Who are you?”
The answer brought joy to her heart.
“We are Frenchmen. It is Le Monniere who has been sent to your assistance.”
As soon as Madeleine heard these words she had the gate opened and, after placing on guard one of the six that comprised the small garrison, she went to the river to meet the lieutenant and his troop of forty men.
“You are welcome, Monsieur,” she said, “I surrender my arms to you.”
Instantly, with a sweeping bow, came the gallant rejoinder:
“Mademoiselle, they are in safe hands.”
For eight days the brave little band had been on duty. They were weak from anxiety and lack of sleep but, encouraged by the cheery words and smile of their youthful commander they had stuck to their posts. Their lives and Fort Verchères had been saved owing to Madeleine’s courage and brave spirit.
The Complete Works of L M Montgomery Page 777
