They all took a
pleasant little excursion into the lovely country of Normandy in
_chars-a-bancs_, with bells on the post-horses, doubtless, and everything
gay and delightful and novel to the children,--especially French
sunshine.
This year the Balmoral stay was greatly saddened by the news of the Sepoy
rebellion, of the tragedies of Cawnpore, and the unspeakable atrocities
of Nana Sahib. Young people nowadays know little about that ghastly war,
except as connected with the pretty poetical story of the relief of
Lucknow, and Jessie Brown; but, at the time, it was an awfully real
thing, and not in the least poetical or romantic.
The marriage of the Princess Royal was fixed for January 25, 1858. Her
father wrote from Balmoral hi the autumn; "Vicky suffers under the
feeling that every spot she visits she has to greet for the last time as
home... The departure from here will, be a great trial to us all,
especially to Vicky, who leaves it for good and all; and the good, simple
Highlanders, who are very fond of us, are constantly saying to her, and
often with tears, 'I suppose we shall never see you again?' which
naturally makes her feel more keenly."
At last the wedding day approached and the royal guests began to arrive
at Buckingham Palace, and they poured in till on fair days a King or
Queen, a Prince or Princess looked out of nearly every window; and when
there was a fog, collisions of crowned heads occurred in the corridors.
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