t for the abode of the youthful and
gracious lady who succeeded them.

The next time I saw the Princess Victoria was in 1836. It was on a day
which, but for the firmness of Sir John Conroy, who acted as Equerry,
might have been her last. At any rate, but for him, she would have
been in great peril. I was standing in the High Street of Rochester; a
fearful hurricane was blowing from the west; chimney pots, tiles, and
slates were flying in all directions, and the roaring of the wind,
as it hurtled through the elms in the Deanery Garden, was loud as
thunder. A strip of lead, two feet wide, the covering of a projecting
shop window, rolled up like a ribbon, and fell into the street. At
that moment three carriages, containing the Duchess of Kent, the
Princess, and their suite, came by. They were on their way from
Ramsgate to London, and a change of horses stood ready at the Bull
Inn. Arriving there, a gentleman of the city approached Sir John, and
advised him not to proceed further, telling him that if they attempted
to cross Rochester bridge, the carriages might be upset by the force
of the wind. The Royal travellers alighted, and Sir John proceeded to
inspect the bridge. On his return, he advised the Duchess to stay,
as the storm was raging fearfully, and the danger was imminent. The
Princess, with characteristic courage, wanted to go on, but Sir John
was firm, and he prevailed, for the journey onwards was postponed. In
an hour from that time, nearly the whole of one parapet was lying in
rains upon the footway of the bridge, and the other had been blown
bodily into the river underneath. The Royal party had to stay all
night, and the inn at which they slept, henceforth took the additional
title of "Victoria Hotel," which it still retains. The journey was
resumed next day, the horses being carefully led by grooms over the
roadway of the wall-less bridge.

A few months after this, the Princess, at Kensington Palace, was
called from her bed, in the twilight of a summer morning, and was
greeted by the Archbishop of Canterbury and the Prime Minister, Lord
Melbourne, as Queen of England. Her first act, as Queen, was to write,
and despatch by a special messenger to Windsor, an affectionate letter
to her widowed aunt, the Queen Dowager. From that time forward her
daily doings have been duly chronicled, and need not be dwelt upon
here; but a few sketches, incidental to her own and the Prince
Consort's visits to Birmingham, will per