The Story of an African Princess: Queen Victoria’s Foster Daughter.

The date is August 14th, 1862. The African princess walks down the aisle of Saint Nicholas Church in Brighton, about 50 miles from London. The drizzly rain is a constant reminder that she is far from home. Sarah is about to be married to a man she barely knows, but this is but one of the duties of a princess, especially one whose kingdom had been torn apart. The wedding party consists of 16 bridesmaids and groomsmen, a mixture of white and African ladies and gentlemen, many chosen personally by Queen Victoria herself. The tiny church is packed to the brim. Those who couldn’t get in waited outside in hopes of getting a glimpse of the Yoruba princess that had been saved from death nearly 10 years ago.

Background and the Slave Trade

To understand how she arrived at this moment, we must first look at the history of the region. In 1833, the British Empire abolished slavery. For centuries, the slave trade had been an extremely wealthy industry for Europeans across the world and West African rulers that were willing to sacrifice some of their prisoners in exchange for European weapons. King Gezo was one of those rulers, and in 1849, after England sent Gezo several strongly worded letters asking him to stop, they sent in the British Navy to Dahomey to persuade him further. One of these missions had Commander Frederick Forbes and the HMS Bonetta at the helm. Gezo was fond of British ingenuity and their queen, so even though he knew the reason for Commander Forbes’s visit, he eagerly invited the British Navy to one of his most sacred rituals: the watering of the graves.

The ritual comprised of a procession of high-profile prisoners wearing white garments. They would lie down on the graves of former kings and have their heads chopped off. Commander Forbes expressed his displeasure with this ritual but also recognized that if he were to stop a long-standing tradition among King Gezo and his people, the talk of ending the slave trade would fall through. That is, until he saw a little girl around the age of seven wearing white garments about to be sacrificed like the others. She had special tribal markings on her face, which was a sign of royalty. Forbes demanded to spare the girl’s life. At first, Gezo refused, explaining that because she was a princess of an enemy kingdom, she would make a great sacrifice for the ancestors. Forbes then did something that could have potentially ended his life and the lives of his men. He threatened Gezo, telling him that if he did not spare the girl, then the British Navy would declare war on him, and even worse, he would lose the respect of Queen Victoria. As Gezo was far outmatched by the British, he decided to give the girl, whose name was Princess Aina, as a gift in what he called a present from the King of the Blacks to the Queen of the Whites.

Arrival in England and Royal Favor

Princess Aina was in terrible shape. She had been in captivity with very little food or water for two years. Born in the village of Okeadan around 1843, a neighboring tribe had killed her parents and siblings. Gezo would have sold Aina into slavery if not for the markings showing her status. Forbes brought Aina to a group of English missionaries that lived in the area. The missionaries bathed her, gave her food, clothes, fresh water, and then baptized her. When the missionaries asked for what her Christian name should be, he told them to name her Sarah Forbes Bonetta, as he had planned on adopting her himself, with the queen and his wife’s permission, of course.

On the way back to England, Sarah grew close to Commander Forbes, sticking by his side for most of the trip. The rest of the naval crew taught her English, and she picked it up rather quickly. In November 1850, Queen Victoria met Sarah for the first time. Her intelligence and adaptability impressed her. Not only did the queen allow Sarah to stay with Forbes and his family, but she also paid for all of her living expenses as well. Sarah moved in with Forbes, his wife Mary, and their four children. She frequently visited Queen Victoria and played with her children, many of whom were around her age. Teachers privately tutored Sarah in art, literature, and music. She thrived in her new home, but her first English winter hit her hard because England only has two seasons: winter and July. Sarah frequently had coughing fits and respiratory issues. The queen’s doctors decided that acclimation to a harsher climate had negative effects on her health and recommended that she move back to Africa.

Exile to Sierra Leone

She arrived in Sierra Leone in 1851 and began attending the Female Institute run by the Church Missionary Society, a group of British missionaries who dedicated themselves to converting the native population and educating them in the ways of the British. The girls that attended wore British clothes, could only speak English, and were heavily pressured into giving up a lot of their own culture. Worse still, the missionaries rarely viewed the Africans as equal to them. In Sarah’s case, the queen paid for her room, board, and education herself. She was fluent in English and eventually French, and a star pupil in piano and singing. Businessmen and aristocrats, both African and British, came from all over to see the brilliant foster daughter of Queen Victoria, and it made her a target of hate and resentment both from the students and staff. She had her own room where the other girls stayed in dorms. The amount paid for her supplies was five times higher than the other students, and when she sent letters to the queen, the queen responded.

Sarah was miserable. On top of that, Commander Forbes caught malaria on one of his tours in Africa and passed away, and the news of King Gezo’s army advancing out of Dahomey probably didn’t put her at ease. Sarah wrote letters to the queen begging her to let her come back to England. At first, the queen refused, citing Sarah’s fragile health as the reason, but four years later, the queen finally agreed. Now 12 years old, Sarah had hoped she could go live with the Forbes family again, but Mary Forbes was now a single mother with four children to raise on her own, and it wasn’t sustainable for her to live there. So, she moved in with James and Elizabeth Schon and their seven children. The Schons were missionaries and had heard of Sarah while they were in Sierra Leone. Their home was also less than an hour away from the palace.

Sarah became known for being charismatic and outgoing. During church services, she would sit next to people she didn’t know, who found her, let’s just say, fascinating. She became friends with all seven of the Schon children as they were all homeschooled together. A year after being in England, Sarah’s health declined again. Doctors prescribed warm clothes for her at all times. Even Queen Victoria, who was well known for never turning on the heat despite the entire palace freezing, made sure the fireplace was on when Sarah came to visit.

Imperial Dynamics and Assimilation

I want to take a few moments to address something: why is a girl of African descent being treated so well by the 19th-century British upper class? The truth is, Queen Victoria had several people of color in her circle. They owned all of this, but it wasn’t because of an exchange of cultures, but more of a forced assimilation of British culture onto others, erasing language and culture, and educating everyone in the proper way, the British way. It was the British Empire’s biggest flex, and it is still felt all around the world today. Sarah was honored as an African princess when attending functions, but she was treated as more of an exotic rarity who happened to learn English than a person with full autonomy.

Sarah had been living with the Schon family for almost five years when she received a letter from a man named James Davies. In the letter was a proposal for marriage. Davies had met Sarah once at the Female Institute when she was 12 and he was 25. I mean, at least he waited until she was 17 to propose, I guess. Different times, indeed. Queen Victoria was absolutely going to be the one to approve or disapprove of any of Sarah’s potential suitors. On paper, Davies was an excellent match: an African man born and raised in Sierra Leone, he came from a wealthy family, had a British education, was a naval officer, and owned several businesses. Queen Victoria urged Sarah to accept his proposal, but Sarah wanted to marry for love. This may not come as a surprise, but Queen Victoria’s views on marriage were very Victorian. She believed it was a woman’s duty to marry. Victoria’s own daughters had been betrothed since they were young teenagers. Victoria had invested much into Sarah, and marrying Davies secured Sarah’s future. The 17-year-old still refused, even as Victoria made it clear that there were few suitors she would approve of. In short, “I am not amused.”

There were other Africans that lived in Britain, but they were mostly students, laborers, and servants, and were not considered suitable partners for her. Sarah was happy living with the Schon family, comfortable and treated with love. She hadn’t even considered marriage. So, if Sarah would not decide to marry James Davies on her own, Queen Victoria had plans to force her to make that decision. Her first move was taking her out of the home of the Schon family and moving her into the home of Sophia Welsh and Barbara Simon, two widowed sisters in their 60s, 50 miles away. Sarah hated it there. She had nothing in common with the two women, and her friends were miles away. She became depressed. In a letter to Mrs. Schon, she wrote she was in a state of mental misery and indecision. At the same time, tragedy struck Queen Victoria twice in the same year. Her mother passed away in March of 1861, and her husband, Prince Albert, died in December. It’s said that a lot of her empathy died with them. The queen threatened to cut Sarah off and abandon her in her new home if she didn’t marry Davies. So, in March of 1862, Sarah met with the queen, still dressed in her mourning clothes, and agreed to marry James Davies. Five months later, they wed.

Return to Africa and Later Life

Sarah and her new husband moved back to Sierra Leone, and Sarah became a teacher at the Female Institute where she had once been a student. Immediately, she clashed with the missionaries there, many of whom had been her former teachers. Sarah believed that the children of Sierra Leone should learn about the culture and history of their homeland before learning about English culture, while the missionaries still leaned into the view of African culture being primitive. Despite the pushback, a year later, at 19, she was to be named headmistress of the school but turned down the position when she found out she was pregnant.

Sarah and Queen Victoria still maintained a good relationship after she married. They wrote to each other frequently, and in 1863, Sarah wrote to the queen asking if she could name her newborn daughter after her. Not only was Victoria flattered, but she also sent the baby a gold cup, knife, spoon, and fork engraved with: “To Victoria Davies from her godmother Victoria, Queen of Great Britain and Ireland, 1863.” When the young family moved to Lagos, Nigeria, Queen Victoria made sure they had their own security in the form of Royal Navy guards. In 1867, the queen invited them to England for Christmas. She showered the family with gifts, including a doll and a gold locket with diamonds for four-year-old Victoria Davies.

Teaching had become a passion for Sarah while in Lagos, and she resumed her career. She had two more children, Arthur and Stella. They educated all three children in Nigeria and England, and the family frequently traveled. Unfortunately, that all came to a halt in the late 1870s. James Davies had a series of unsuccessful businesses, placing the family in economic hardship. The stress made Sarah’s health deteriorate, and she had to quit her job. When she wasn’t recovering, they sent her to Funchal, Madeira, Portugal, well known at the time for treating respiratory illnesses. Sarah stayed in a hotel while doctors treated her. Six months later, in the spring of 1880, she felt strong enough to go home. However, her health took a turn for the worst shortly after that.

Sarah Forbes Bonetta Davies died on August 15, 1880, at the young age of 37. Queen Victoria learned of her death eight days later and broke the news to Victoria Davies, who was now 17 and living in England. Queen Victoria supported Sarah’s older daughter until the queen’s death in 1901. Sarah’s wishes were to be buried at sea like Commander Forbes so that it may reunite her with her father figure. They denied her request. She’s buried in Funchal, and it was only recently that she was given a burial marker, and when I say recently, I mean 2020. That’s 140 years after her death. Her husband built a monument for her on a cocoa farm he started, an eight-foot granite obelisk that reads: “In memory of Princess Sarah Forbes Bonetta, wife of J.P.L. Davies, who departed this life at Madeira, August 15, 1880, aged 37 years.” The obelisk no longer stands.

Legacy and Re-evaluating History

Sarah has quite a legacy. Most of her descendants still live in Nigeria or Sierra Leone today, including her great-great-granddaughter, Dr. Ameyo Adadevoh, who almost single-handedly stopped the Ebola virus from becoming a pandemic in 2014 at the cost of her own life. We should all be thanking her, I’m just saying. It’s only recently that English historians have recognized how much of their history intertwines with those of African descent, and it’s better late than never. For a long time, the story of Sarah was seen as far-fetched. No one even bothered to search for her own name until the 2000s; they assumed she forgot it out of the trauma, but she never forgot who helped her or where she came from. To most of the world she grew up in, she was Sarah Forbes Bonetta, the brilliant, charismatic beneficiary of Queen Victoria who was saved from death. She was much more than that. She had a career in a time where that was unusual, a mother who made sure her son and daughters had a good education, an ability to navigate through two different cultures, and a resilience she had to find at a very young age to survive. She had the strength of a princess because she had always been Princess Aina.

To fully grasp the depth of Princess Aina’s journey, we must look deeper into the complex web of nineteenth-century geopolitics, the institutional inner workings of the British Empire, and the personal dynamics of a young girl thrust into the global spotlight. The world she inhabited was one of dramatic transition. The transatlantic slave trade was legally collapsing under the weight of British naval blockades, yet the economic systems that supported it remained deeply entrenched across West Africa. The Kingdom of Dahomey, under King Gezo, was a formidable military power known for its standing army, which included the famous elite all-female military regiments often referred to as the Dahomey Amazons. For Dahomey, captives taken in regional warfare were not merely commodities for export; they were integral to state religious rituals and domestic labor structures. When British emissaries like Commander Frederick Forbes arrived on the shores of West Africa, they were not just executing humanitarian policy; they were projecting British imperial authority and attempting to reshape regional economies to align with European interests.

When Commander Forbes stepped off the HMS Bonetta and encountered the young Princess Aina, the encounter represented a clash of two entirely different worldviews. Forbes was an officer bound by Victorian notions of chivalry, Christian morality, and the rising tide of British abolitionism. Gezo, on the other hand, was navigating the preservation of his state’s traditional religious practices and sovereign rights in the face of growing foreign interference. The ritual of the watering of the graves was a cornerstone of Dahomeyan statecraft, intended to honor deceased monarchs and solidify the legitimacy of the living king. Sacrificing high-status captives, such as a princess from a rival kingdom, was viewed as the highest form of reverence. Forbes’s intervention, backed by the threat of naval bombardment, was an act of gunboat diplomacy that fundamentally altered the trajectory of Aina’s life. By renaming her Sarah Forbes Bonetta, combining the name of the Christian saint, his own surname, and the ship that carried them, Forbes effectively attempted to erase her past identity and mold her into a symbol of British benevolent rescue.

The transition from the tropical climate of West Africa to the damp, industrial reality of Victorian England was a profound shock to the young girl. Upon her arrival, Sarah was thrust into a society that was simultaneously fascinated by and suspicious of the foreign world. The mid-nineteenth century was an era dominated by scientific racism and the rise of social Darwinism, where European intellectuals sought to categorize humanity into rigid racial hierarchies to justify colonial expansion. Against this cultural backdrop, Sarah’s exceptional intellectual capacities, her rapid mastery of the English language, and her natural musical talents posed a direct challenge to prevailing racial stereotypes. Queen Victoria’s decision to take a personal interest in Sarah’s welfare and education was both an act of personal charity and a highly visible political statement. By sponsoring Sarah, the royal court demonstrated the supposed benefits of the British civilizing mission, showcasing how an African child, when removed from her native environment and raised under the guidance of Christian education, could achieve the cultural refinements of the British upper class.

However, this elevated status came with a heavy psychological burden. Sarah was living in a state of perpetual limbo. She was a guest in royal palaces, playing alongside the queen’s children, yet she possessed no independent wealth or legal autonomy. She was celebrated as an African princess, but her royal lineage was treated as a historical curiosity rather than a source of genuine political authority. The constant scrutiny of the public, the high expectations of her tutors, and the rigid social protocols of the Victorian court isolated her from both her African heritage and the ordinary British populace. This isolation was compounded by her physical vulnerability. The English climate, characterized by dense coal smoke and damp winters, took a severe toll on her respiratory system, a common affliction for individuals moving from tropical regions to industrializing Britain during that era. The decision to send her to Sierra Leone was not merely a medical necessity; it was a reflection of the court’s belief that her long-term future lay in Africa, where she was expected to serve as a beacon of British culture and values.

The Female Institute in Freetown, Sierra Leone, where Sarah was sent, was a microcosm of the British colonial project. Founded by the Church Missionary Society, the institution aimed to train young African women to become suitable wives for the rising class of Christianized, Western-educated African professionals, clergymen, and government officials. The curriculum was designed to instill British domestic values, emphasizing needlework, religious studies, European history, and proper social etiquette. For Sarah, who had experienced the genuine luxury and high culture of the British royal court, the strict, institutional environment of the missionary school was stifling. Furthermore, her unique relationship with Queen Victoria created an immediate divide between her and the school administration. The missionaries, many of whom harbored deep-seated paternalistic biases, resented Sarah’s direct access to the British monarch and her independent financial support. Sarah found herself caught between two worlds: too British to integrate seamlessly with the local population, and too African to be fully accepted by the colonial authorities.

Her return to England after four years in Sierra Leone did little to resolve this existential tension. The loss of her adoptive father, Commander Forbes, deprived her of her primary emotional anchor in the country. Moving in with the Schon family provided her with a supportive domestic environment, yet her future remained entirely dependent on the whims of the Crown. The question of her marriage brought these underlying power dynamics to a crisis point. In Victorian society, marriage was the primary mechanism through which a woman’s social status, financial security, and societal role were defined. For Queen Victoria, arranging a marriage for Sarah was the final step in securing her destiny. James Davies was, from an imperial perspective, the ideal candidate. He represented the successful realization of the colonial ideal: an African man who had achieved financial independence through global commerce, maintained a prestigious position as a naval officer, and embraced British social norms. By uniting Sarah and James, the Crown sought to establish a prominent, loyal Christian family that would champion British interests in West Africa.

Sarah’s initial resistance to the match highlights her desire for personal agency in a world that consistently sought to deny it to her. Raised on a diet of European romantic literature and witnessing the affectionate, albeit strict, marriage of Queen Victoria and Prince Albert, Sarah harbored her own ideals of marital love and partnership. The intense pressure applied by the queen, including her relocation to the isolated home of the widowed sisters in Brighton and the threat of financial abandonment, demonstrates the absolute authority the British state exercised over her life. The death of Prince Albert in late 1861 had plunged Queen Victoria into a state of profound, lifelong mourning, altering her emotional disposition and making her less tolerant of dissent within her household. Sarah’s eventual submission to the marriage was an act of pragmatic survival, recognizing that without the support of the Crown, she would be left destitute and unprotected in a society that viewed unaccompanied women of color with deep suspicion.

The grand wedding at Saint Nicholas Church was a public spectacle that masked the complex negotiations and personal sacrifices that had brought it about. The presence of sixteen bridesmaids and groomsmen, carefully balanced between white British elites and prominent African residents, was designed to project an image of imperial harmony and racial integration. For the public gathering outside the church, the event was a fairy-tale conclusion to the story of the rescued slave princess. For Sarah, however, it marked the beginning of a new chapter where she would have to navigate the responsibilities of being a wife, a mother, and an educator in a rapidly changing colonial landscape. Her return to West Africa as Mrs. James Davies brought her back to the region of her birth, but she returned not as Princess Aina of Okeadan, but as a prominent representative of the British colonial elite.

In Lagos, Sarah attempted to carve out a meaningful professional life despite the restrictions placed on women of her social standing. Her decision to enter the field of education was driven by a desire to provide young African girls with the tools necessary to navigate the colonial world, but her pedagogical philosophy was notably progressive for her time. Having experienced the erasure of her own cultural identity, Sarah advocated for a curriculum that recognized the value of African history, language, and traditions alongside Western education. This stance brought her into direct conflict with the established missionary authorities, who viewed any defense of indigenous culture as a regression toward paganism. Her willingness to challenge these powerful institutions demonstrates that despite her forced assimilation, she maintained a strong sense of pride in her African heritage and a commitment to the intellectual emancipation of her people.

The financial collapse of James Davies’s business ventures in the late 1870s illustrated the precarity of the African merchant class within the British imperial system. The colonial economy was heavily tilted in favor of European trading firms, which enjoyed preferential credit terms, government backing, and access to global shipping networks. When economic downturns hit, independent African entrepreneurs were often the first to suffer, lacking the institutional safety nets available to their white competitors. The resulting financial strain shattered the domestic stability Sarah had worked so hard to build, forcing her to confront poverty and social decline. The physical toll of this prolonged stress manifested in the recurrence of her chronic respiratory illness, leading to her lonely exile to the island of Madeira, where she would ultimately spend her final days.

The legacy of Sarah Forbes Bonetta extends far beyond her lifetime, manifesting in the remarkable achievements of her descendants and the ongoing historical project to re-evaluate the role of people of African descent in Victorian Britain. For generations, the dominant historical narrative of the British Empire minimized or entirely omitted the presence of Black individuals within the domestic sphere of the metropole, treating them as external subjects rather than active participants in British history. Sarah’s life challenges this narrative, proving that the boundaries of Victorian society were far more porous, complex, and contested than previously acknowledged. The long delay in providing her grave with a proper burial marker reflects a broader societal amnesia regarding the complex, intertwined histories of Britain and West Africa.

The story of her great-great-granddaughter, Dr. Ameyo Adadevoh, serves as a poignant modern continuation of this legacy of resilience and public service. In 2014, when an Ebola patient arrived in Lagos, Nigeria, threatening to unleash a catastrophic epidemic in one of the world’s most densely populated urban centers, Dr. Adadevoh stood firm against immense political and social pressure to release the patient. Her correct diagnosis, swift containment measures, and refusal to compromise public safety prevented a global medical disaster, though it ultimately cost her her life. This act of profound moral courage and professional dedication echoes the inner strength and resilience that Princess Aina had to summon when surviving the destruction of her home, her captivity, and her subsequent transformation into a Victorian icon.

When we look back at the life of Princess Aina, we are forced to confront the contradictions of the Victorian era. It was a time of immense scientific and industrial progress, yet it was also defined by rigid social control, colonial exploitation, and cultural erasure. Sarah Forbes Bonetta was neither a simple victim of imperial cruelty nor a triumphant product of British benevolence. She was a complex, intelligent, and resilient woman who navigated an extraordinary set of circumstances with dignity and grace. She managed to maintain her sense of self, her passion for education, and her devotion to her family within a system that sought to use her as a political prop. Her true story is not found in the royal decrees or the idealized newspaper accounts of her wedding, but in her quiet resistance, her intellectual achievements, and her enduring legacy as a woman who crossed oceans, cultures, and eras while remaining, at her core, a princess.