 CHAPTER XI. SISTER DORA. Dorothy Pattison, who was afterwards known as Sister Dora, was born in 1832 in a little village called Hawkswell, near Richmond, in Yorkshire, of which her father was the rector. She was the youngest but one of a family of twelve children, of whom ten were daughters. They grew up in all the enjoyment of country life. Dorothy was delicate as a child and not allowed to do regular lessons, but she describes herself as having all the same been a great romp, as wild and merry as a boy, and good at all outdoor sports, riding, rowing, shooting, swimming, and skating. And even as a tiny child she loved to wash and nurse her dolls, and longed to be able to do the same for real people. When she talked over the future with her nearest sister she used to say, I'll be a nurse or a lady doctor and do everything for my patients. When she was twelve, one of her sisters fell ill, and Dorothy begged, at first in vain, to be allowed to sit up with her and nurse her, but at last she managed to slip into the room unnoticed, and once she was there she was allowed to stay and help to nurse her sister till she was well. A couple of years afterwards a fever broke out in the village and an old woman whom Dorothy knew very well took it. She called at the house to ask how she was, and found the old woman left quite alone. In a moment she made up her mind and without thinking of what her parents might say she hung up her coat and jacket behind the door and told the old woman she had come to stay with her. In the evening she sent a message home to say that she was going to stay all night, and word came back that as she had chosen to stay without permission she must now remain with the old woman. She washed her and nursed her and read the Bible to her, but she grew worse and worse and the next night she died. A kind neighbor came and helped to lay her out, but Dorothy, tired out and frightened, was left to spend the night alone in the cottage. Next morning she sent a message to the rectory to say that the poor woman had died might she come home, but the answer came back, stay where you are till you are sent for. She was terrified lest her parents had cast her off and she should never be allowed to go home. But soon a carriage arrived with her old nurse to carry her off to spend a month at the seaside so that she might be free from all infection before going home. When at last she returned home she was welcomed as a little heroine and got rather puffed up by the praise she received. As she got stronger and able to study more she was inclined to rebel at the time spent over lessons and said she did not see why, as she was going to be a nurse, she should learn languages and music. But she was told that a nice Christian nurse should learn everything she had time for and might someday have French or German patience and music would be a pleasure to everybody. It would not do to be one sided, for she ought to be able to care for the minds and souls of her patients as well as for their bodies. So she was persuaded to study gladly and would often wonder how the thing she was learning would come in afterwards. Later she found that there was not a single thing she had learnt which had not in some way been hallowed in the service of God. She used to say to others, never feel that it is a waste of time to get knowledge of any kind. You can never tell how handy it may come in. Dora grew up to be a very handsome woman. By the time she was twenty all her delicacy had disappeared and she was tall and strong. She had very high spirits and was always full of fun and ready to see the funny side of people and things. Her laughter and her happy voice singing as she went about the house were the delight of her father who called her his sunshine. But though she loved her home and her rides and walks on the moors, she did not find there enough occupation for her active nature. Her mother died after a long time of ill health during which Dora had been one of her devoted nurses, and now Dora longed for some real work. Her father did not wish her to leave home, but he did not forbid it, and at last when she was twenty-nine, Dora went to be schoolmistress at Woolston, a little village in Buckinghamshire. She lived there alone in a tiny cottage, loving the children who came to her school and making herself the friend of all the poor and sick in the village. She did not feel, however, that this was her real work, and after three years she decided to join the sisterhood of the Good Samaritans. She had learnt to know these sisters in Yorkshire as they had their chief home at Cottam, which was not very far from her old home. The sisters had a convalescent home under their care, and many of them went out from Cottam to work in other towns. After she joined the sisterhood, Sister Dora, as she was now called, had to work very hard. The sisters did all the work of the house, and Sister Dora cleaned floors and grates, swept and dusted, and for a time acted as cook. She sometimes felt it very hard to have to do all this work. Once when a gentleman whom she knew came into the kitchen where she was peeling potatoes, she pulled her hood over her face so that he might not see her. In afterlife she found the great advantage of having learnt how to do all the work of a house herself. She thought some of the rules very strict, but still she was very happy there and the sisters loved her. She was able also to learn more about nursing as the sisters had a cottage hospital near Middlesbrough to which she was sent. She was sent to nurse private patients, and sometimes to nurse in another cottage hospital for accidents at Walsall, which was managed by the Cottam sisters. At last Sister Dora settled altogether at Walsall, in charge of the little hospital there. Walsall is a great manufacturing centre, with coal pits, blast furnaces and many kinds of factories. It had then no large hospital. The little cottage hospital was chiefly intended for accidents, and the patients were for the most part men and boys from the pits and workshops. There were also a large number of outpatients, men, women and children. As most of the cases were accidents, Sister Dora was particularly anxious to become a good surgical nurse, and the chief surgeon at the hospital, when he saw how quick and clever she was, taught her all that he could, so that she could attend to many cases herself without the help of the doctor. The hospital in which she at first nursed was very small and inconvenient with only fourteen beds. But a few years after Sister Dora settled in Walsall, a new hospital was built on the top of the hill on which the town lies. It had twenty-eight beds, conveniently arranged in three wards, so that it was just possible for an active woman like Sister Dora to do all the nursing herself. She had the help of an old servant of her family who came to live with her, and she soon learned to be a very capable nurse herself. Other women were engaged to sit up at night with the patients, and later Sister Dora used to have lady pupils who learned nursing under her. It was a very hard life, full of ceaseless work and responsibility, but Sister Dora threw her whole heart into it and loved her work and the people for whom she worked. Once settled at Walsall, she never wished to leave it. Speaking to a friend about her work she said, I generally find that the more I have to do, the stronger and happier I feel. It is hard enough sometimes at night when I have been round to all the patients and left them comfortable in asleep, and I'm just going to bed myself to be called down by the bell, or perhaps roused by it just as I am falling asleep, and then I think, the master calleth thee, and jump up and go down to find perhaps some poor drunken man or woman, and it is difficult to recognize the master in such poor degraded creatures as come to be doctored up. She had a wonderful power over the men and boys amongst whom she worked. She sympathized deeply with all their pain and trouble, and made them feel as if their troubles were her own, but she tried to make them forget their pain by her bright talk and her laughter and jokes. She would raise their spirits by her delightful fun, till an Irishman said once, Make you laugh, she'd make you laugh when you were dying. Whenever she had a spare minute, she would read to them or talk to them or play games with them. She allowed no bad talk or quarreling in the wards, and tried to mend her patient's morals as well as their limbs. They each of them knew that they had a real friend in her, and that she prayed for each and cared deeply what became of them. They loved to come and see her after they had left the hospital, and were always sure of a welcome. She tried hard to cure them from their drinking ways, showing them again and again how hard it was to heal the wounds of those who drank, and when they were brought in at night, wounded after a drunken brawl, after dressing their wounds with all her usual gentleness, she would ask them why they did not behave like respectable members of society, instead of fighting in the streets and getting her up at unearthly hours of the night to mend their broken heads. Sister Dora was devoted to children, and they loved her, and she knew how to get them to bear patiently the dressing of their wounds. Often when a child was miserable and in pain, she would carry it about with her on one arm as she went through the wards saying, Don't you cry, sisters got you. Whilst with her other hand she attended to the patients. Many children suffering from terrible burns used to be brought to the hospital, and she grew so clever in treating them that the surgeons trusted them entirely to her care. Once a child was brought in, so badly burnt, that it was plain it had only a few hours to live. All pain had ceased but the child was terrified. Sister Dora gave up all other work in order to comfort her. She sat by the bed for some hours, talking to her about Jesus Christ and his love for little children, and about heaven where she would never feel hunger and pain again. The child grew peaceful and happy, and her last words were, When you come to heaven, sister, I'll meet you at the gates with a bunch of flowers. Sister Dora felt special sympathy for the men who had been so hurt that it seemed necessary for them to have an arm or leg cut off. She knew well how difficult this made it for them to earn a livelihood, and she devoted all her skill to saving the wounded limb if possible. One night a fine healthy young man was brought in with his arm torn and twisted by a machine. The doctor said that nothing could save it and that he must cut it off at once. Sister Dora was moved by the despair of the young man, who looked long at his arm and at himself, and the man cried out, Oh, sister, save my arm for me. It is my right arm. When she turned to the doctor and asked if she might try to save the arm, he only asked her if she was mad and said that the man's life could not be saved unless his arm were taken off at once. But she turned to the patient and said, Are you willing for me to try to save your arm, my man? He was willing, but the surgeon was very angry and refused to help her, saying, Remember, it's your arm, and telling her she must take all the responsibility. Night and day for three weeks she tended him, naturally feeling terribly anxious as to what would happen. She often said afterwards, How I prayed over that arm. At the end of that time she asked the surgeon to come and look at her work and when she unbandaged the arm and showed it to him, straightened, and in a healthy, promising condition he exclaimed, Why you have saved it, and it will be a useful arm to him for many a long year. It is not surprising that Sister Dora wept with joy at her success, nor that the man became one of her most devoted admirers. He was nicknamed Sister's Arm in the hospital and used to come back often to see her after he had left. Another man himself tells how she had to persuade him to allow his leg to be taken off as the only way of saving his life. He had grown so thin and wasted that she used to carry him upstairs in her arms so that he might join in the prayers she held for the whole hospital. He was eight months in the hospital and he says, I learned to love Sister Dora as a mother. He tells how she used in the afternoons to attend to the outpatients, bless their wounds, set a broken arm, sew up a cut, or draw a teeth, in fact, anything that was required of her she would do and always with the tenderest care and the kindest word to all. She often amused the men with tales of her doings in the country as a girl, and told them about her riding and fox-hunting, and this man who watched her life in the hospital for eight months says, those patients who were the most trouble she seemed the fondest of. She knew how to get the men to help her by making them wait upon one another. Generally, there was some boy who had to stay a long while in the hospital who waited upon her as a devoted slave. After she had been four years at the hospital, to show their gratitude for all she had done, her patients subscribed fifty pounds amongst themselves with which they bought a small carriage and pony for her. She delighted in using it to send convalescences for a drive and founded a help in taking her to visit sick people in their homes. She seldom took a holiday herself, and once was three years at the hospital without any break. But if she did go away into the country with friends, she enjoyed everything with all her old energy, bathing or skating, taking long walks when she would lead the way in scaling fences or fording streams. Sometimes she took patients who were convalescent for expeditions into the country or to visit Lichfield Cathedral. The old patients specially loved to revisit the hospital on Sundays, when after a clergyman had held a short service, Sister Dora used to speak to them herself and then lead them in the singing of many hymns. She always had a small Bible in her pocket and studied it whenever she had a spare minute. In 1875 there was a terrible outbreak of smallpox in Walsall. There was an isolation hospital on the outskirts of town, but in those days people were not compelled by law to send smallpox patients away and they refused to go of their own accord, for they said that they would rather die at home. It was very necessary for the welfare of the town that they should be persuaded to go to the hospital and not spread the terrible infection by staying in their own homes. So Sister Dora offered to leave her hospital and go to take charge of the smallpox hospital. She knew the people trusted her and thought that they would come if she was there. Her offer was gladly accepted. All through the town the news ran, Sister is going to the epidemic hospital. Her lady pupils were left to take charge of the hospital and she went off to her lonely work with the surgeon of the hospital to show her the way. It seemed such a lonely and desolate spot that even her courage failed her at the door and she cried out, Oh, take me back, I cannot endure this dreadful place. But the surgeon knew her real courage and only said, Come in. It was an admirably planned little hospital and she was delighted with it. There were twenty-eight beds and she had not been half an hour in the hospital before seven patients arrived to be followed by many more. Her only regular helper was the porter, an old man who did all he could for her, when he was sober, but used sometimes to go away and get drunk, leaving her alone for the whole night. Two old women came in from the workhouse to help her in washing the clothes and bedding, but much of the scrubbing and cleaning she had to do herself as well as all the nursing. One of the police who came to see her told her that the people in the town declared that they should not mind having the smallpox with Sister to nurse them. Some few people were brave enough to visit her in her loneliness and to bring her books and flowers and news of her patience at the hospital. One of the old patients, an engine stoker, went off and to see her after his day's work was done. He had been twice in the hospital under her care and he said, I could not tell you all her goodness to me, words would fail me if I tried. She was full of courage and joy in her work and wrote to a You must not fret. I rejoice that he has permitted one so unworthy to work for him, and oh, if he should think me fit to lay down my life for him, rejoice, rejoice at so great a privilege. Even her sense of fun did not leave her, and she wrote a long letter to her old patients at the cottage hospital, calling them all by their nicknames and sending messages to each. She said of a boy who was her special slave, what shall I say to my beloved Sam, I wish I had my boy here, I send him twenty kisses and hope he has been in church today and in time. He must not sulk all the time I am away. I have two blessed babies, who alternately keep up music all day and night, accompanied by an Irish woman's tongue so I am not dull. Have you been singing today? You must sing particularly safe in the arms of Jesus and think of me. Living or dying I am his. Oh, my children, you all love me for the very little I do for you, but oh, if you could only think what Jesus has done and is doing for you, your hearts would soon be full of love for him, and you would all choose him for your master. Toward the middle of May, the smallpox hospital was empty, and she hoped soon to leave. But before she was ready to go, new patients were brought in, and this happened several times, so that it was not until the middle of August after six months work at the smallpox hospital that she was able to close it. The following October, a terrible explosion occurred at the furnace of some ironworks, and eleven men were covered with streams of molten metal. In their agony they jumped into a neighboring canal and were with difficulty rescued and taken in cabs to the hospital. Burnt all over and frightfully disfigured, they were carried in and laid on the floor till a ward could be cleared for them. It was a terrible scene. Even the doctors could hardly stay in the ward. But Sister Dora never ceased in her devoted care of the men. Cries came from most of them. Sister, come and dress me. Do dress me. Oh, you don't know how bad I am. She could only answer, Oh, my poor men, I'll dress you all if you'll give me time. One poor man seeing how distracted she was by the different cries for help said, Sister Dora, I want to be dressed very bad, but if there's anyone wants you worse, go and do him first. He was in terrible pain and died during the night. Of the eleven only two recovered. Some lingered for as long as ten days, and during that time Sister Dora never went to bed and hardly left the ward. One of those who survived described how she went from bed to bed, laughing, even joking with the men, telling them stories, doing everything she could to distract them from their pain and pointing out the way to heaven to those who were to die. He spoke with the light of her visits to his bedside at night when he was recovering, saying, It did you good only to look at her and ending with, What we felt for her I couldn't tell you, my tongue won't say it. One result of this terrible accident was that the ward in which the burnt men had lain was so poisoned that it could not be used again and it was decided to build a new hospital. In the meanwhile a house was fitted up as a temporary hospital. It was a tiring life for Sister Dora as the temporary hospital was small and not at all convenient and many patients had to be nursed in their own homes. It was at this time that she first began to find it difficult to lift her patients and after a while she was compelled to consult a doctor about her health. He discovered that she had a mortal malady. It was possible that an operation might do her some good, but it was by no means certain. She determined to go on as usual and made him promise to tell no one of her illness. She worked harder than ever and would not give in. She drove about in her little pony carriage to visit her patients and no one was allowed to know that anything was wrong with her. Then an outbreak of fever in the temporary hospital made it necessary to close it and as the new hospital was not yet ready it was possible for Sister Dora to leave Walsall. She visited her relations and went to Paris and London to study improvements in surgical science. All the time her disease was growing worse and still she told no one. Her wish was to die at Walsall among her own people and as the hospital was not ready a little house near to it was taken for her. People could not believe that she was dying. She was surrounded with all the care that love could give her and often her visitors were surprised to see her in spite of pain and weakness still her old self full of fun and jokes. Her interest in the new hospital was very keen and she rejoiced that it was finished in time for her to know of its opening. She listened eagerly to all that was told her about it and gave her advice about all the arrangements. Often she suffered terribly and when at last she died on Christmas Eve 1878 it was with relief that her friends heard that her pain was over. She was carried to her grave by some of the railwaymen for whom she had carried with so much devotion. The bishop was there and great numbers of the clergy and there came to hundreds of her patients and an immense crowd consisting of nearly all the people of the town. When later it was discussed what memorial of her should be placed in Walsall some suggested a convalescent home as what she herself would most have desired. But the working men of the town were quite clear that what they wanted was a statue of Sister Dora. One of them said that of course they could not forget her but that they wanted her to be there so that when strangers came and saw the statue and asked who it was they might answer, who's that? Why that's our Sister Dora. So her statue in her nurse's dress as she lived and worked amongst them stands in the center of Walsall to remind the people of her life of love. The workmen spoke of her as the most saintly thing that was ever given us. End of Section 15. Section 16 of Some Famous Women by Louise Creighton. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Pamela Nagami. Chapter 12. Queen Victoria. Part 1. It is impossible in one short chapter to tell about all the things that made Queen Victoria's reign famous and I'm only going to tell something about her own life and to try to show what kind of a woman she was. Her father was the Duke of Kent, son of King George III, and her mother was a German princess. The Princess Victoria was their only child that she was born in 1819 in Kensington Palace. It was possible that the little princess might someday be Queen of England, but at her birth she had three uncles living older than her father who would all have a right to the throne before her. She was only a few months old when her father and grandfather died and her eldest uncle became King as George IV. Her mother, a German lady, was very lonely in England. Her chief advisor was her brother Leopold, then living in England. He made the Duchess of Kent feel how important her position was as mother of the child who might be Queen someday. He said that she must be brought up in England, so the Duchess consented to live on at Kensington Palace and devoted herself to the education of her child. In after years the Queen, writing about her childhood, said that her chief pleasure was visiting her uncle Leopold, who lived at Claremont near Escher. She was brought up very simply and always slept in her mother's bedroom. When she stayed at Claremont or by the seaside where they often went, she did her lessons in her governess's bedroom. She was not fond of learning and did not know her letters until she was five. George IV had quarreled with her father and did not like her mother and took very little notice of them. But she went as a child to see him at Windsor and remembered how he took her by the hand saying, Give me your little paw. Next day he met her driving in the park and stopped his carriage and said, Popper in, and she was very pleased to drive by his side in the carriage with his servants and scarlet liveries. When she was thirteen her mother gave her a small red Morocco book in which to write her diary and from that day to a few days before her death she used to write down every night the events of the day. As a little girl she wrote down the hours of her lesson when she went out riding or was taken to the theater or to hear music and when she washed dash her pet dog. The princess's governess was a German lady, Freiline Leitzen, whom she adored, though she was greatly in awe of her. She spoke German before she learned English but her mother took care that she should learn English well. When she was eight a clergyman Mr. Davies was appointed to direct her education. He chose a number of teachers for her and himself taught her religion and history. Her life was strict and dull and in after years she did not look back to her childhood as a happy time. George IV died when she was six and was succeeded by his brother William IV who had no children so that Princess Victoria was now heir to the throne. Her mother did not get on with William IV and did not like her to go to court and this made the king very angry though he was always very kind to the little princess when she visited him privately. She was not allowed to go to his coronation because the king and her mother could not agree as to the place she should take in the procession. This was a great disappointment and she wept bitterly. Nothing could console her not even her dolls. It was a great grief to the princess when her uncle Leopold left England to become king of Belgium. She was devotedly attached to him and he to her and she always looked to him for advice and guidance. They wrote to one another constantly in terms of the deepest affection. He recommended her books to read and discussed the affairs of Europe with her. As part of her education her mother used to take her on tours through different parts of England when they visited the great nobles and some of the chief sites and most important cities. She was sometimes a little tired by all the stiff ceremonies she had to go through though she liked seeing people. She was very fond of music and dancing, spent much of her time in singing and learned to play the harp. When she was sixteen she was confirmed by the Archbishop of Canterbury and he spoke to her so seriously about the duties of her position that she was drowned in tears and frightened to death. One of her uncle Leopold's most cherished plans was that the princess should marry her cousin, Prince Albert of Saxa Coburg and when she was seventeen he arranged that Prince Albert who was a few months younger should visit England with his father and elder brother. The visit was a great success. The princess wrote to her uncle, they are both very amiable, very good in kind and extremely merry just as young people should be. Albert is extremely handsome. They are excessively fond of music like me. A fortnight later she wrote, I must thank you beloved uncle for the prospect of great happiness you have contributed to give me and the person of dear Albert. Allow me then, my dearest uncle, to tell you how delighted I am with him and how much I like him in every way. He possesses every quality that could be desired to make me perfectly happy. He is so sensible, so kind and so good and so amiable too. He has besides the most pleasing and delightful exterior and appearance you can possibly see. Prince Albert thought his cousin very amiable and wonderfully self-possessed. Nothing was however said about marriage during this visit and the prince returned to Germany. Just after the princess was eighteen her uncle King William IV died on June 20th, 1837. She herself described in her journal what happened afterwards. I was awoke at six o'clock by Mama, who told me that the Archbishop of Canterbury and Lord Conningham were here and wished to see me. I got out of bed and went into my sitting-room, only in my dressing-gown and alone and saw them. They told her that the king was dead, and kneeling to kiss her hand, greeted as queen the slim young girl just roused from sleep. A couple of hours later Lord Melbourne, the prime minister came to see her and she wrote, I saw him in my room and of course quite alone, as I shall always do all my ministers. She who had been so carefully guarded by mother and governess had now to act alone, and it seems from the way she notes it in her journal as if she was glad. She held her first council that morning and again writes that she went to it quite alone. There she read the speech that Lord Melbourne had prepared for her to the ministers and privy counsellors. Melbourne was struck with the way in which she bore herself. Though she was very short, not five feet tall, her movements were dignified and graceful. Her voice, which was very beautiful, was clear and untroubled and thrilled her hearers. The blush on her cheek added to the interest and charm of her appearance. Lord Wellington said, she not merely filled her chair, she filled the room. She was quite composed. She wrote in after years that she took things as they came, as she knew they must be. What she was feeling, she wrote that night in her diary. Since it has pleased Providence to place me in this station, I shall do my utmost to fulfill my duty toward my country. I am very young and perhaps in many though not in all things inexperienced, but I am sure that very few have more real good will and more real desire to do what is fit and right than I have. She wrote to, in large letters, I am Queen. She was delighted with the kindness of Lord Melbourne, her prime minister, and he from the first felt deeply the charm of the girl-queen, whose steps he guided like a father. After the quiet dull life she had led hitherto, it was an amazing change for her and she enjoyed it to the full. She loved meeting people and enjoyed the large dinners at which she presided. She loved her long rides with the ladies and gentlemen of her court. She enjoyed the court balls at which she used to dance all night. But she was also determined from the first to do her work as Queen. She felt that the country was hers, that the ministers were hers, and that the people were her people whom she had to govern. From the first she showed that as Queen she was going to be independent of her mother. The Duchess lived with her but she had a separate set of rooms and was allowed no share in public business. Long hours were spent by the Queen with Lord Melbourne talking over public affairs that she might learn to understand them. He constantly dined with her and when he did all we sat next to her and often talked to her of books and of people whom he had known. She wrote in her diary, he has such thorns of knowledge, such a wonderful memory, he knows about everybody and everything and he imparts all his knowledge in such a kind and agreeable manner. Another friend and advisor was Baron Stockmar, a German friend of the Queen's Uncle Leopold, whom he had sent to England to help her to understand politics. He was a wise man of great knowledge and taught the Queen how she must keep out of party politics and what were the limits of her power. It was difficult to know exactly what was the power of the sovereign in England. The monarchy was not popular when Victoria became Queen. Neither George IV nor William IV had been much respected and they had had little influence on affairs. Victoria had a high idea of her position as well as of her duties as Queen, but she had to learn exactly how much she was able to do. Sometimes she was deeply vexed when she could not get her own way and she made some mistakes at first. But her strong sense of duty kept her in the right way and showed her the kind of influence she could use. Her ministers might change, but she was always there and as she took the greatest trouble to know all that was going on, and read all the most important dispatches written by her ministers, she soon got a very wide understanding of affairs, particularly of foreign politics. It was a strange life for her girl. All the morning she read dispatches or signed her name to papers or talked to her ministers. Then came her long rides, her music and singing, a game of Battle Doron shuttlecock with some of her ladies, a dinner followed by dancing, music, cards or wise talk with her ministers. She enjoyed it all, the power and the freedom and the attention paid to her by the waiting crowds when she rode out. See after her accession she went to live at Buckingham Palace. It had been built in the reign of George IV, but neither he nor William IV had lived there. It was not at all a convenient house, and afterwards the queen improved it very much. She at first thought Windsor a very melancholy place, but she learned to like it when in the summer her uncle Leopold stayed there with her, and she rode after his visit. I have passed such a pleasant time here, the pleasantest summer I ever passed in my life. She was very hospitable and invited many relations and other guests to stay at Windsor, and liked to show them all over the castle, even into the kitchen. The queen's first public appearance of importance was when the month after her accession she dissolved Parliament and herself read her speech from the throne. Her voice was said to be exquisite, and her manner of speaking quite perfect. Last year came her coronation. She seems to have enjoyed the great day immensely. As she drove through the enthusiastic crowds on her way to Westminster Abbey, she felt proud to be the queen of such a nation. When she got back to the palace ten hours after she had set out, she did not really feel tired, and after dinner felt much gratified when Lord Melbourne said to her with tears in his eyes, You did it beautifully, every part of it with so much taste. Later from her mother's balcony she watched the fireworks. The idea of her marriage with Prince Albert was still cherished, but she was in no hurry, and meanwhile was very anxious about his education. She wrote to her uncle that it was her great desire to see Albert a very good and distinguished young man. In 1839 he again visited England with his brother, and it was not long before the two young people fell genuinely in love with one another. It was the queen who had to make the proposal. She called him to her room, and feeling it a very nervous moment told him of her wish. She wrote to her uncle, The warm affection he showed me on learning this gave me great pleasure. I love him more than I can say. I do feel very, very happy. They were married the following February, and the queen found in Prince Albert all the happiness she had hoped for. In after years when she looked back she felt that the years of her reign before her marriage were the least sensible and satisfactory parts of her whole life because of the constant amusement and flattery and mere politics in which she had lived. Now she had the joy of a companion to help her in all her work and to share her life with her. But at first there were difficulties. Prince Albert was not popular. He was too German for English people to understand him. The queen bitterly resented the attacks made on him. The ministers did not like him to take any part in affairs and his position was very uncomfortable. But in time he showed how much he could help the queen and came to share all her work. They had nine children and the queen was a devoted mother so it was well that she had the prince's help in her public life. Her love and admiration for him was unbounded. After three years of married life she wrote to her uncle, I am grateful for possessing, really without vanity or flattery or blindness, the most perfect being as a husband in existence or whoever did exist and I doubt whether anybody ever did love or respect another as I do my dear angel. In 1842 they paid their first visit to Scotland and enjoyed it immensely. So much did the queen love the quiet and liberty of her life in Scotland that after several visits she rented Balmoral House in Aberdeenshire that she might have a scotch home of her own and after a while was able to buy the estate and build a new house on it. She did not like London after her marriage and wanted a place where she and her family could live undisturbed by too many officials so she also bought a place in the Isle of Wight and built Osborn House there. At both Osborn and Balmoral life was very simple. The queen would run in and out of the house as she liked and walked about alone visiting the cottagers and enjoying her talks with them. The queen and Prince Albert gave much attention to the education of their children. Lady Littleton was named royal governess and super intended the nursery. The children were brought up very simply. The queen spent as much time as she could with them, played with them and interested herself in their friends and their pets and they were encouraged to act little plays and recite poetry to their parents. Prince Albert liked the queen was very musical and they often sang together. When the famous composer Mendelssohn visited England he was invited to Buckingham Palace and they both sang to his accompaniment. He said that the queen sang really quite faultlessly and with charming feeling and expression. They also loved the theatre and plays were often acted at Windsor. Several times the queen visited Germany with Prince Albert and they also went to Ireland. But wherever they were they never failed in their attention to public business. It was a great grief to the queen when a change in the government came and Lord Melbourne had to resign. But she always remained friends with him and wrote to him constantly. At first she dreaded having to do with his successor Sir Robert Peel but she grew to like and admire him very much. With nearly all her ministers her relations were most cordial, only with Lord Palmerston did she find it difficult to get on and she never was quite easy with Gladstone. They all alike admired her industry and strong sense of duty and her great knowledge of public affairs. In 1851 the first international exhibition was held in London. The idea of such an exhibition was Prince Albert's and at first it met with great opposition both at home and abroad. But it turned out a triumphant success. Many foreign princes came to the opening ceremony. The queen described it to her uncle as the greatest day in our history the most beautiful and imposing and touching spectacle ever seen and the triumph of my beloved Albert. People hoped that this great gathering of all nations would prove a festival of peace but it was only a very few years afterwards that the Crimean War broke out. In this war England took part as the ally of Napoleon III who had just made himself emperor of France. The queen followed the war with deepest anxiety. She felt proud of the conduct of her troops as she always called them. She welcomed them on their return, presented them with medals with her own hands and did all in her power to show sympathy with their sufferings. Before the war was over she paid her first visit to Paris to show her friendship for the emperor whose personal charm at that time attracted her very much. Later she learned to distrust him. She was received with immense enthusiasm and wrote that she was delighted, enchanted, amused and interested and had never seen anything more beautiful and gay than Paris. When the Crimean War was over the queen visited Aldershot and reviewed the troops herself. She started a new order called the Victoria Cross to be given to those soldiers who had done some specially brave act and gave it herself to 52 men at the review and hide park. In 1856 her eldest daughter was betrothed to the crown prince of Prussia. The queen was delighted and showed her high spirits by dancing vigorously at all the balls given in honor of the betrothal. She even danced a Scottish reel to the bagpipes. The next year came the great anxiety of the Indian mutiny. The queen felt it much more distressing than the Crimean War where there was glory and honorable warfare and where the poor women and children were safe. It was also a sorrow to part from her eldest daughter when she married but she rejoiced in her happiness and visited her in Germany. In 1859 at the age of 39 she became a grandmother when her first grandchild the present emperor of Germany was born. Her family were an ever growing joy to her and life was full of interest and happiness. But in the year 1861 a sudden end came to her happiness. In the spring her mother died and she wrote as a broken hearted child to her uncle saying that she could not imagine life without her. A greater blow was awaiting her. Before the end of the year Prince Albert fell ill and almost before his illness was known to be serious he died. The queen was utterly crushed. In her first heartbroken letter to her uncle she said my life as a happy one is ended the world is gone for me. It was indeed a terrible loss for her. She had absolutely depended on him and lent on his advice and she had loved him and looked up to him as a perfect being. Ten years before she had written about his wonderful fitness for business and politics and added I grow daily to dislike them both more and more. We women are not made for governing and if we are good women we must dislike these masculine occupations. Now she was left to govern alone bereft of what had been the joy of her home life. Immense sympathy was shown to her and she was much touched by it. She determined to take her husband's example as her guide and to give the same minute care as he had given to public affairs. But she shut herself up in absolute seclusion seeing no one but her family and those whom she had to see for business. At first people accepted the queen's seclusion as natural and respected her grief. But as the years passed and she made no change many complaints were made of her neglect of the duties of her position. The newspapers published criticisms of her conduct which deeply wounded her. She made no change and spoke of herself as a cruelly misunderstood woman. At first her only public appearances were to unveil statues of her husband and occasionally she opened parliament. She worked as hard as ever at public business and was much taken up with family affairs and with the arrangements for the marriage of her children. She liked best to be at Balmoral and felt Windsor a sad and gloomy place. During these years her seclusion led to her being decidedly unpopular and it may rightly be considered the one serious mistake of her life. The serious illness of the Prince of Wales in 1871 roused much sympathy and helped to make the crown again more popular. When Mr. Disraeli became prime minister the queen began to find public business more interesting. He was not only clever but he took much trouble to be agreeable to her and to amuse her so that she became really fond of him. She was delighted with his Indian policy which ended in her being proclaimed Empress of India in 1876. She much enjoyed this new honor and showed her feeling for India by having Indian servants to attend upon her and by beginning to learn Hindustani. As the years passed many sorrows came to the queen through the death of her relations and friends especially she felt the death of her second daughter Princess Alice. She continued to exert much influence on public affairs and always did all in her power to help to keep the peace in Europe. In 1879 she visited Italy for the first time and she often repeated her visit and traveled also on other countries always in a very quiet and simple way. In 1887 the queen had been on the throne for 50 years and she was persuaded to keep her jubilee publicly. On the jubilee day June 21st 1887 she went in procession preceded by 32 princes of her own family sons sons-in-law and grandsons to a thanksgiving service in Westminster Abbey. Representatives of all the countries of Europe of India and the colonies followed her. The immense crowds who gathered to see her pass received her with an enthusiasm which deeply touched her. She said on her return to Buckingham Palace that she was very tired but very happy. The same enthusiasm attended other celebrations in connection with the jubilee. In her old age the queen was as popular perhaps even more popular than she had been in her youth. People in all the wide lands which made up the British Empire felt that she was the outward sign of the unity of the empire. They venerated her for her long and blameless life devoted to duty. In far distant lands black and savage people honored the great white queen and trusted in her justice. After the jubilee she went about a little more and saw more people. She visited Berlin and spent some time in the south of Europe each year. She received many royal visitors and once more there were concerts and dramatic performances at court. In spite of her age she still gave as much attention as ever to business and would spend two or three hours a day going through papers and signing her name to public documents. In 1897 when she had reigned 60 years her second or diamond jubilee was celebrated. This time a great state procession was made all through London and on reaching St. Paul's Cathedral the queen's carriage paused at the bottom of the steps for a brief service of thanksgiving. Her last years were clouded by the war in South Africa. Amidst all the gloom that followed on the news of the disasters suffered there by the English troops the queen never disparate of ultimate success. She took every opportunity of showing her sympathy with her soldiers and telling them of her gratitude for their exertions. The war was not over when she began to show signs of failing health. One of the last things she did was to receive Lord Roberts to hear from him about the state of things in Africa. Little more than a week afterwards she died at the age of 81. When we think over her long life and the great position she filled we find that she owed her influence more to the strong sense of duty she always had and to her constant determination to do what she felt to be right than to any special gifts or talents she possessed. She was a wonderful woman because she was always true to the best that she knew and it is this that makes her an example for us all. The End End of Section 17 Recording by Pamela Nagami M.D. in Encino, California October 2019 End of Some Famous Women by Louise Creighton