The Queen and Lord M

Chapter XV VICTORIA AND ALBERT

February had come – the wedding month.

Albert was travelling across Europe full, as he had told Uncle Leopold, of misgivings. He could not visualise the future very clearly at all and the last few months had convinced him that his position might bring with it certain humiliations which he would find intolerable. The prospect of a wintry Channel crossing lay before him – and after that, what?

He tried to think of Victoria as she had been when he last saw her, her little face alive with affection and the manner in which she had flown into his arms and had told him he was beautiful and wonderful far beyond anything she had dared hope for.

Could that dear loving almost humble little creature be the arrogant Queen who had written to him saying: You will do this. You cannot do that.

All his hopes were in Victoria if she truly loved him. And how could he doubt that she did? She had protested it many times and she was too honest to deceive him. Of that he was certain. Victoria was honest and she loved him. She had, he believed, been led in certain ways by unwise counsellors. When he was her husband he must be the one to advise. That was his only hope of happiness.

The Queen was equally uneasy. When dear Albert had been with her she had been so sure. It was all those horrid controversies which had made her so anxious, so apprehensive, so uncertain.

She was thankful to have Lord Melbourne at hand and there were constant meetings in the blue closet. There was so much to discuss: the ceremony; the bridesmaids; the procession; a new residence for Mamma because Victoria did not intend to have her living in the Palace when she married. Albert had implied that he did not approve of her feeling for Mamma. Albert was so good that he could not feel it was right for mother and daughter to be on bad terms. One day she would make Albert understand what her childhood had been like and how impossible it had been to live in harmony with the Duchess.

Lehzen had already gone to Windsor to make sure everything was in readiness for the honeymoon.

She herself had developed a horrid cold which everyone had feared was going to be measles. That would have spoilt everything; but it turned out to be only a cold and she was already feeling better.

Tomorrow, Albert would arrive and she was afraid that when she saw him again she might not feel quite so much in love with him.

She could discuss all this with Lord Melbourne.

‘I feel a little agitated and nervous,’ she confessed.

‘Very natural,’ said Lord Melbourne. ‘It couldn’t very easily be otherwise.’

‘Such a short time ago I had made up my mind not to marry at least for a long time.’

‘Depend upon it you are doing the right thing in marrying,’ he said. ‘It is in human nature. It is natural. Of course, it makes great changes in one’s life and at times may be a little inconvenient.’

‘When I saw him I was so sure.’

‘Right and proper,’ said Lord Melbourne.

‘And now …’

He would not let her say that she was not now sure for he knew she would regret that. ‘And now,’ said Lord Melbourne, ‘tomorrow when he comes you will be even more sure.’

She looked at him earnestly and it was as though she were the new young Queen again discovering her beloved Prime Minister. She felt as she had in the beginning, that all was well because he was there.

‘You will not … forsake me?’ she said.

He laughed and she felt he was near to weeping; because he knew and she knew that they had come to an end of something very precious to them both.

‘I shall always be here … if you want me,’ he said.

‘Dear Lord M I shall never forget.’

She had turned slightly from him, her lips parted, her eyes wide; she looked very young and a great tenderness overwhelmed him. Fervently he hoped that she would be happy.

For himself … he would be her Prime Minister for a while … a short while, it seemed evident. He would call on her in the blue closet; they would talk, but it would be different; her husband would overshadow their relationship and if she loved this husband he would take all the affection she had to offer – he knew well her loving heart, her tendency to idealise the dominant figure in her life to the exclusion of all others. He himself had briefly held that place in her heart, knowing all the time – old cynic that he was – that it could not last.

I had my day, he thought, and that day is over.

But not quite.

‘We are going to Windsor for the honeymoon,’ she said. ‘You will come to see me there.’

‘It will be of such short duration … only a few days … three at most.’

‘Yes, I had to explain that to Albert. But I wish you to come. It will make me happy to have you there. It always does.’

‘But at such a time?’ he asked, raising those beautiful eyebrows which she loved.

‘I wish it,’ she said.

‘The Queen commands me,’ he answered lightly, but she noticed the little catch in his voice.

She said earnestly: ‘None of your friends are as fond of you as I am.’

She placed her hand in his and he bent to kiss it.

Albert was on the way. He would arrive at any moment. She was watching from one of the windows for his carriage. Eös, his greyhound, had arrived a day or so before and waited with her.

‘He will be here soon, dear Eös,’ she whispered. And there was the carriage. She saw him alight. Oh, how beautiful he was! Nothing … nothing mattered but that he was here and tomorrow she was to marry him, and he was the most handsome, the most saintly man in the world.

Why had she doubted her feelings? She had been mad.

She ran down to greet him. She would have no ceremony.

‘Albert … dearest Albert.’

She had flung herself into his arms.

‘How wonderful that you are here.’

They kissed; they clung together; then they drew apart to look at each other.

How foolish. How stupid to have doubted.

They only had to be together again to be sure.

She awoke early on her wedding morning, leapt out of bed and went to the window. It was raining.

February was such an awkward month for a wedding.

She picked up her pen and wrote to him.‘Dearest,How are you today and have you slept well? I have rested well … and feel quite at ease today. What weather!Send one word when you, my most dearly loved bridegroom, will be ready. Your ever faithfulVictoria R.’

How slowly the time passed until she must get up and prepare for the ceremony. She was going to look beautiful in her wedding finery, but I can never be as beautiful as he is, she thought. How wonderful he was! She was bursting with happiness. No one on earth had ever been so happy she was sure.

She was helped into the white satin gown with its deep lace flounces and her wedding veil of Honiton lace. Over it all was her garter ribbon. And of all the jewellery, the most important was the sapphire brooch which Albert had given her.

The crowds watched her drive from the Palace to the Chapel Royal at St James’s; and there dear Albert waited for her, looking so tall and handsome in his uniform that she could have wept with emotion. Then she saw Lord Melbourne carrying the Sword of State and as he was looking straight at her his eyes filled with tears.

Dear, dearest Lord M! she thought. I owe you so much.

And then she turned to Albert and saw nothing but him.

She was trembling yet exultant, and when she was asked: ‘Victoria wilt thou have Albert to be thy wedded husband?’ her clear, young voice rang out firmly: ‘I will.’ And Albert was putting the ring onto her finger.

They were back at the Palace; there was so much to talk about, so many plans to make, she gave the Prince a wedding ring which he must promise to wear always and he swore he would love and cherish her till death did them part.

‘There must never be a secret we do not share,’ he said.

‘There never shall be,’ she replied fervently.

In the afternoon they set off for the brief honeymoon at Windsor.

Soon she was writing to Uncle Leopold:‘… I am the happiest being that ever existed. I do not think it possible for anyone in the world to be happier or as happy as I am. He is an Angel … to look in those dear eyes and that dear sunny face is enough to make me adore him …’

Albert came to look over her shoulder as she wrote.

He smiled as he read. Why had he had any qualms? Her affection was so wholehearted. He would mould her to his ways.

‘Oh Albert,’ she cried, ‘how wonderfully happy I am! What joy to be here … with you … and to forget for a brief time that I am the Queen.’

If those were ominous words, he did not notice.