ins to be climbed and cairns to be built in solemn pomp. "At
last, when the cairn, which is, I think, seven or eight feet high, was
nearly completed, Albert climbed up to the top of it, and placed the
last stone; after which three cheers were given. It was a gay, pretty,
and touching sight; and I felt almost inclined to cry. The view was
so beautiful over the dear hills; the day so fine; the whole so
gemuthlich." And in the evening there were sword-dances and reels.

But Albert had determined to pull down the little old house, and to
build in its place a castle of his own designing. With great ceremony,
in accordance with a memorandum drawn up by the Prince for the occasion,
the foundation-stone of the new edifice was laid, and by 1855 it was
habitable. Spacious, built of granite in the Scotch baronial style, with
a tower 100 feet high, and minor turrets and castellated gables,
the castle was skilfully arranged to command the finest views of the
surrounding mountains and of the neighbouring river Dee. Upon the
interior decorations Albert and Victoria lavished all their care. The
wall and the floors were of pitch-pine, and covered with specially
manufactured tartars. The Balmoral tartan, in red and grey, designed by
the Prince, and the Victoria tartan, with a white stripe, designed by
the Queen, were to be seen in every room: there were tartan curtains,
and tartan chair-covers, and even tartan linoleums. Occasionally the
Royal Stuart tartan appeared, for Her Majesty always maintained that she
was an ardent Jacobite. Water-colour sketches by Victoria hung upon the
walls, together with innumerable stags' antlers, and the head of a boar,
which had been shot by Albert in Germany. In an alcove in the hall,
stood a life-sized statue of Albert in Highland dress.

Victoria declared that it was perfection. "Every year," she wrote, "my
heart becomes more fixed in this dear paradise, and so much more so
now, that ALL has become my dear Albert's own creation, own work, own
building, own lay-out... and his great taste, and the impress of his
dear hand, have been stamped everywhere."

And here, in very truth, her happiest days were passed. In after years,
when she looked back upon them, a kind of glory, a radiance as of
an unearthly holiness, seemed to glow about these golden hours. Each
hallowed moment stood out clear, beautiful, eternally significant. For,
at the time, every experience there, sentimental, or grave, or trivial,
had