He soon took to his bed, which he never left. He had
inflammation of the lungs, and a country doctor, which last took from him
one hundred and twenty ounces of blood. Then, as he grew no better, a
great London physician was called in, but he said it was too late to save
the illustrious patient; that if he had had charge of the case at first,
he would have "bled more freely." Such was the medical system of sixty
years ago.
The Duke of Kent's death brought his unconscious baby's feet a step--just
his grave's width--nearer the throne; but it was not till many years
later--till after the death of her kindly uncle of York, and her "fine
gentleman" uncle, George IV., and the accession of her rough sailor-
uncle, the Duke of Clarence, William IV., an old man, and legally
considered childless--that the Princess Victoria was confidently regarded
as the coming sovereign, and that the momentous truth was revealed to
her. She was twelve years old before any clear intimation had been
allowed to reach her of the exceptional grandeur of her destiny. Till
then she did not know that she was especially an object of national love
and hope, or especially great or fortunate. She knew that she was a
"Royal Highness," but she knew also, the wise child!--that since the
Guelphs came over to rule the English, Royal Highnesses had been more
plentiful than popular; she knew that she was obliged to wear, most of
the time, very plain cotton gowns and straw hats, and to learn a lot of
tiresome things, and that she was kept on short allowance of pin-money
and ponies.
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