The Queen and Lord M

Chapter IV ‘THE PLEASANTEST SUMMER’

After a good night’s sleep when Victoria awoke to the second day of her reign, her first thoughts were: ‘I shall see Lord Melbourne today.’ She laughed delightedly to herself. Of course she would see Lord Melbourne today; she would see him every day. He was her chief minister.

‘My Prime Minister,’ she said aloud. ‘How exciting!’

Lehzen hovered while she ate her breakfast, fussing in the most delightful way. She had not seen the Duchess yet. Nor shall I, she thought. In future I shall say whom I shall see and when.

‘And not in the least nervous,’ Lehzen was saying. ‘It is quite wonderful.’ Lehzen nibbling at bread and butter sprinkled with caraway seeds regarded her young mistress with admiration.

‘I think I enjoy it, Lehzen,’ she said calmly, getting on with her breakfast and reflecting that Lehzen dared not tell her now not to gobble. For gobble I shall if I want to, Victoria told herself. ‘I love the dear people and it will be no more of an ordeal for me to face them than it was my ministers.’

‘They will love you,’ said Lehzen. ‘The people love a young queen.’

‘That is exactly what Lord Melbourne said,’ replied the Queen; and Lehzen realised that was a compliment. But she was a little uneasy. We don’t want too much Lord Melbourne, she thought.

After breakfast the Prime Minister called. The Queen was to be proclaimed from a window of St James’s Palace and he wanted to prepare her. He knew of course that she was not nervous.

‘Not in the least,’ she told him, which made his eyes glaze over with the tears she had come to expect. Dear Lord Melbourne!

‘The right attitude is to smile at the people and make them believe you’re enjoying it all even if you’re not.’

She loved the way he talked; he was so frank, so natural.

‘Oh, but I am enjoying it. And would it be right to pretend if I were not? I have always hated pretence in any form.’

‘A queen cannot afford to hate what the people love,’ he told her, ‘even if it entails a little pretence now and then.’

And she thought: How clever he is! I must remember his sayings and write them in my Journal.

‘I remember the Coronation of your Uncle George IV,’ he told her. ‘Ah, there was an occasion!’

‘There was trouble with the Queen, I believe.’

‘Your Majesty was then a babe in arms.’

‘And unable therefore to be present,’ she said with a giggle. How easy it was to laugh with her Prime Minister!

‘Which was perhaps a blessing.’

‘Wouldn’t it have been well for me to have some experience of coronations since I shall have one of my own?’

‘There never was such a coronation as that one, and it would not be possible for Your Majesty’s to resemble it in the least.’

She laughed. She had heard how her Aunt Caroline of Brunswick had tried to storm the Abbey and had been kept out on Uncle King George’s orders. What exciting relations she had had, and rather wicked too! Lord Melbourne would, of course, know a great deal about them. And exciting things had happened to him. She had heard rumours. That wife of his, those two divorce scandals. The world was waiting to be explored and how comforting to remember that she had her Prime Minister beside her – such a dear, good, experienced man.

But this was not the time to talk of past scandals. Perhaps they would later. Oh no, that would doubtless be very improper. A queen and her Prime Minister must discuss State matters; but the scandals of King George and Queen Caroline had been a State matter, so State matters could be scandalous too.

‘But,’ went on Lord Melbourne, ‘this is not a matter of a coronation but a proclamation. Your Majesty will ride to St James’s and there be proclaimed Queen of England. So that on this occasion all you have to do is smile and look pleasant, which you will accomplish with the greatest ease. You need have no qualms.’

‘None at all.’

His expression was sentimental.

‘I know Your Majesty will delight all your subjects as you do this one.’

So she set out for St James’s; and the dear people lined the streets to see her carriage pass and they showed, in no uncertain way, their delight in the young Queen with her wide blue eyes and ready smile.

‘What a little thing she is!’ she heard them say.

‘Different from her uncles.’

It was as Lord Melbourne had said. The nation was delighted with a young attractive girl after the gross old men who had occupied the throne for so many years.

And from an open window of St James’s Palace she stood while the Proclamation was read and the trumpets sounded and the guns fired their salutes.

‘God bless the Queen!’ Those words echoed all round her.

‘Oh, God,’ she prayed, ‘help me to do what is right. Help me to be good.’

A letter had arrived from Uncle Leopold.‘My beloved child,Your new dignities will not change or increase my old affection for you. May Heaven assist you and may I have the happiness of being able to be of use to you …’

Dear Uncle Leopold! She had not thought of him very much since her accession. He was far away and she had dear Lord Melbourne close at hand; and she must not forget, as Lord Melbourne had pointed out, that Uncle Leopold was the head of a foreign power. At the same time she must not forget either the affection she had had for this beloved Uncle during her childhood when he had been a father to her. That reminded her that Lord Melbourne had known her own father. She must ask him to talk to her of him at some time. Oh dear, her thoughts were straying from Uncle Leopold’s letter.

He went on to congratulate her on how she had conducted herself.Then:‘I have been most happy to hear that the swearing-in of the Council passed so well. The Declaration in the newspapers I find simple and appropriate. The translation in the papers says: “J’ai été éevée en Angleterre.” I should advise you to say as often as possible that you are born in England …’

She saw the point of this but Lord Melbourne had approved the Declaration and had not mentioned it.

Uncle Leopold went on to remind her that she could never say too much in praise of her own country and its people.‘Two nations in Europe are really almost ridiculous in their own exaggerated praises of themselves; the English and the French …’

Was he a little critical of her country and her people?

How strange that she should begin to criticise to herself – she would never do it openly – that dear good Uncle who had been the god of her childhood.

But then of course she was growing up; she had become the Queen; and she had Lord Melbourne to advise her. An Englishman like her Prime Minister would naturally understand the English and their affairs better than a foreigner.

She wrote in return:‘My beloved Uncle,Though I have an immense deal of business to do I shall write a few lines to thank you for your kind and useful letter of the 23rd which I have just received …’

She paused to think of those happy days at Claremont in which she had so delighted and of dear Louie who had always been so pleased to see her and had given her the place in her affections which had once been occupied by Princess Charlotte – or almost given it. No one could quite replace Charlotte with Louie, of course. Dear Louie! I must find time to go and see her. I must not let her think that now I am Queen it will make any difference to our relationship.

Again her thoughts were straying from Uncle Leopold.‘Before I go further let me pause to tell you how fortunate I am to have at the head of the Government a man like Lord Melbourne. I have seen him now every day, with the exception of Friday, and the more I see him, the more confidence I have in him. He is not only a clever statesman and an honest man, but a good and kind-hearted man, whose aim is to do his duty for his country and not for a party. He is the greatest use to me both politically and privately.’

She sat back in her chair. She did hope Uncle Leopold would realise the merits of Lord Melbourne and that it was the advice of her Prime Minister she must take rather than that of the head of a foreign power even if he was an uncle.

In growing closer to Lord Melbourne it was inevitable that she should move farther away from Uncle Leopold.

The Duchess was in despair, and she naturally sought comfort from Sir John Conroy.

‘I would not have believed it possible,’ she moaned. ‘What have I done to deserve this?’

Sir John looked at her ruefully. The ruin of his hopes was more to be deplored than hers. She was at least the widow of the Duke of Kent and the mother of the Queen. What had he?

Victoria had shown clearly enough that she had no love for him; and now the Regency which he and the Duchess had hoped for would never be, for Victoria had been proclaimed Queen and was determined to have no interference.

‘She changed overnight,’ wailed the Duchess.

But that was not true. She had always been aware of her dignity; nor had she ever prevaricated; she had accepted their rule unwillingly and as soon as it was over she had escaped.

‘I shall never forget going into my bedroom and finding her bed gone,’ cried the Duchess. ‘“Where is my daughter’s bed?” I demanded. “Removed Your Grace”, I was informed, “on the Queen’s orders.” How could she!’

‘Simply, dear Duchess, by giving the order. She only has to give orders now.’

He regarded the Duchess sadly. Their plans had come to nothing and he was not a man to stand still. He had to make new ones.

‘I will send Flora to you,’ he said.

She did not answer and he left. When Lady Flora Hastings appeared the Duchess reiterated her resentment and found some comfort in enumerating the benefits she had bestowed on her daughter and the indications of that daughter’s ingratitude.

‘Lehzen is to blame,’ declared Lady Flora. ‘She has far too much influence with the Queen. But what can one expect from a low born pastor’s daughter?’

There was some comfort in reviling the Baroness and the Duchess felt a little better.

Meanwhile Sir John was reviewing his own position. There was not much left to him. He and the Duchess had had a joint plan which had been formulated in Victoria’s childhood. There was to be a Regency of which the Duchess was to be the titular head; and he, through her, would rule the country, although she and the rest of the world would believe that he was merely advising her.

It was not a sudden shock – this repudiation by Victoria. He had seen it coming for a very long time and so had his dear Duchess, so she need not pretend – at least to him – to be so surprised by it.

Victoria had made it clear that she was not going to be guided – by them at least. She was obstinate and so incapable of deceit that she made no secret of her dislike for him. She had told him firmly some time ago that she could not accept him as her secretary and that meant he would have no place in her household. Well, if he were to have no place in her household he had better make other plans and quickly.

I have given years of my life in the Duchess’s service, he told himself with a smirk. I have therefore looked after the Queen’s affairs. I deserve a reward which will make my retirement worth while.

There was no point in under-estimating himself and as soon as possible he should make his wishes known.

He would have liked to make them to the Queen but she would most certainly refuse to see him, or at best delay doing so. Melbourne? Melbourne was wily; he did not think he wanted to approach the Prime Minister direct. Baron Stockmar was the man. The Baron was the born intermediary and he would know how to couch Sir John’s request in diplomatic terms.

He went at once to see Stockmar. Sir John sniggered inwardly. We are allies in misfortune in a way, he thought. The Baron had also aspired to the secretaryship and been declined – more politely in his case but nevertheless he was refused the post, so it came to the same thing in the end.

‘Baron,’ he said, ‘I have reached the conclusion that the time for my retirement has come.’ He smiled deprecatingly. ‘I have reason to believe that there are some in the royal household who will not greatly regret my departure – in other words they may well be glad to see me go, and inclined to reward me for doing so. Therefore I will not beat about the bush. I am ready to go in exchange for the following considerations: a peerage, naturally; a pension of three thousand pounds a year; a seat on the Privy Council and the Grand Cross of the Bath.’

‘You must be joking,’ said Stockmar.

‘I never joke on a serious subject.’

‘My dear Sir John, do you really think these requests will be granted?’

‘I have every confidence, Baron.’

‘There is no harm in being confident,’ replied the Baron.

‘Certainly no harm … only good. So you will place my terms before Lord Melbourne?’

His terms! thought the Baron. It was as though this were some disreputable bargain. Was it? There had been a certain amount of scandal concerning Sir John and the Duchess. Could it possibly be that this man was suggesting it would be necessary for the Queen to meet these demands because of her mother’s relationship with him?

It was certainly a matter to lay before the Prime Minister.

‘You may be assured,’ said the Baron, ‘that I shall lose no time in giving your suggestions to Lord Melbourne.’

‘Good God!’ cried the Prime Minister. ‘Have you ever heard of such demands? The insolence! Why a Cabinet Minister would not expect so much.’

The Baron lifted his shoulders. ‘Conroy was in a very special position in the Duchess’s household.’

‘Good God,’ said the Prime Minister again. ‘It’s a form of blackmail.’

‘One might call it that.’

‘The fellow’s a rogue.’

‘I fear you may be right.’

‘The Queen will not have him near her.’ He smiled tenderly. ‘She is very shrewd, which is quite miraculous in one so young.’

‘She has always disliked him.’

‘And rightly so. The blackguard. A seat on the Privy Council! I never heard anything like it.’

‘You will know how to deal with the matter, Prime Minister.’

Melbourne hesitated. ‘In view of the rather delicate situation it will need some devilish clever handling.’

‘I thought you would see it that way.’

‘I’ll consider it. Leave the matter with me.’

In spite of her youth she was the Queen and Melbourne could not conceal from Victoria the fact that Conroy had made his demands.

Victoria flushed with indignation when she heard. ‘I always hated him. He told me once that I resembled Queen Charlotte and the Duke of Gloucester.’

Lord Melbourne burst out laughing. Victoria looked astonished but when Lord Melbourne laughed she always wanted to, so she laughed with him.

‘Odious creature!’ said Lord Melbourne. ‘And an obvious liar. How could you possibly look like Queen Charlotte and the Duke of Gloucester?’

‘You knew them both. What were they like?’

‘As unlike Your Majesty as it is possible to be.’

More laughter. How happy he made her feel even at this time.

‘What should be done about this man?’ she asked.

‘Nothing in a hurry,’ replied her Prime Minister.

‘I was hoping you would say dismiss him from Court.’

‘That is what I should like to say, but the desire does not always coincide with the necessity.’

‘I wish I need never see him again.’

‘We might arrange that.’

‘Then you will have arranged something very much to my liking.’

‘We shall have to consider his demands in view of … er … his position in your mother’s household.’

She blushed rather charmingly as she said: ‘I know I can talk to you frankly, Lord Melbourne.’

‘I trust Your Majesty is able to do that because it is very necessary to our relationship that we should be entirely frank with each other at all times.’

‘A certain amount of scandal has been whispered about Mamma.’

‘Ah! Scandal,’ murmured Lord Melbourne, and she thought of his own very colourful life in which so many scandals had existed. Yet, she thought, he is the most perfect gentleman. But she was sorry she had mentioned the word if it brought back unhappy memories to dear Lord Melbourne.

‘There are some people,’ she said loyally, ‘whom scandal cannot touch. But that is, of course, if they are innocent.’

Grasping the implication Lord Melbourne gave her a grateful look. How well we understand each other! she thought blissfully.

‘But to return to this odious man,’ said Lord Melbourne. ‘He has been in the household of the Duchess of Kent for many years. I suppose a certain reward should be given him. Besides, it would be worthwhile to rid ourselves of him, would it not?’

‘I should be delighted to be rid of him.’

‘All Your Majesty need do is refuse to see him in any circumstances. But I would like to exile him to the country.’

She nodded.

‘In the meantime,’ said Lord Melbourne, ‘we will shelve the matter by considering it. It is always better to let these things simmer and avoid rash actions.’

She was sure he was right. He always was right in any case.

When Lord Melbourne left, a messenger came to tell her that her mother the Duchess of Kent wished to see her.

She knew what this meant. Mamma was going to ask her to agree to Sir John’s terms. Having no desire to be embroiled in one of her mother’s scenes, remembered with such distaste from the days when she was, as she now began to consider herself, ‘Mamma’s prisoner’, she sent back a message to say that she was too busy to grant the interview.

Then she sat down to think about Sir John and what a menace he had been in her childhood. If Mamma had not allowed that odious man to dominate her household, how different everything might have been and how glad she was that she now had Lord Melbourne to deal with this most disagreeable affair.

The Duchess’s fury was turning to despair. To receive a note from her daughter saying she was too busy to see her own mother was the last straw, she declared to Sir John.

‘She is dominated by Melbourne,’ he told her. ‘You can depend upon it. He is the one who is responsible for this high-handed behaviour.’

‘Who does he think he is … the King?’

Conroy grinned. ‘Well, he might well be aspiring to that position.’

‘You are not suggesting that she would marry the man!’

‘Oh, no, even I wouldn’t go as far as that. There’s forty years difference in their ages and the Queen can’t marry a commoner.’

‘I should think not. The sooner she is married to one of her Coburg cousins the better.’

‘Your brother Leopold will see to that, and I gather he still has some influence though he may well be ousted by Melbourne.’

‘It shall be Ernest or Albert. She shall have the choice. And the sooner the better, I believe.’

‘She is surrounded by our enemies, that is the trouble.’

‘And she is so easy to lead.’

‘We did not find it easy to lead her,’ Sir John reminded her.

‘By some people,’ amended the Duchess. ‘Melbourne … Lehzen …’

‘Ah, Lehzen,’ sighed Sir John a little reproachfully. ‘What a pity you cannot get someone more sympathetic to us into her household.’

‘I will beg her to take in Flora.’

‘That’s a good notion.’

‘And I shall ask her to see you sometimes. Her not doing so, in such a pointed way, makes it a little embarrassing for me.’

Sir John nodded. He knew that people were already whispering that the Queen’s aversion to Sir John was due to her mother’s relationship with him.

‘I will write to her since she is too busy to see her own mother.’

‘Write calmly,’ said Sir John.

‘You may trust me.’

She sat down at her desk and feathers quivering with emotion she wrote to her daughter. She hoped that she was not letting Melbourne know how much she disliked her mother’s Comptroller of the Household. In fact was she confiding too much in Lord Melbourne? Did she not think it might be wiser to see a little less of her Prime Minister?

‘Take care,’ she wrote, ‘that Lord Melbourne is not King.’

When Victoria received the letter she blushed hotly.

How dared they! She included Sir John in her condemnation because she knew he would have had a hand in this. He made outrageous demands which were like blackmail, and then they dared speak so of Lord Melbourne!

Definitely she would never see Sir John Conroy again if she could help it; as for her mother, she would have to learn that her daughter was no longer her prisoner but the Queen of England!

Lord Melbourne said that it was not very suitable for the Queen to continue to live in Kensington Palace.

‘Kensington Palace is all very well for the heiress presumptive to the throne; but when that heiress becomes the Queen that is a very different matter.’

Victoria was wistful. ‘It is no easy matter to leave one’s home.’

‘But it is an easier matter to leave one of your homes when you have many. And you can always come back for a spell to Kensington. Why your grandfather George III and his wife Queen Charlotte …’ She made a little grimace. ‘… who incidentally bore no resemblance whatsoever to Your Majesty …’ Victoria joined Lord Melbourne in his laughter. ‘Your grandfather George III and Queen Charlotte loved Kew and they were very glad to leave Windsor to escape to it. They would walk about the place like a country squire and his lady and the King so interested himself in the farmers thereabouts that he often gave a hand with the butter-making.’

How their conversation strayed from the main point at issue and how fascinating that was! They had begun by talking of this move and ended up with King George at his butter-making.

‘So,’ went on Lord Melbourne, having succeeded in lifting the slight sadness which the prospect of moving had made her feel, ‘Your Majesty will remember that you can always come back to Kensington when you wish.’

So she could but Lord Melbourne would understand that it was not quite the same.

‘If you surround yourself with familiar objects – and why should you not? – it will make little difference to you whether you are in Kensington or Buckingham Palace.’

‘You will come and see me every day?’

‘That will be my duty and my pleasure.’

And so she had been wise and given her attention to the packing, for as she pointed out to Lehzen, there were so many personal possessions which one wished to look after oneself.

She and Lehzen spent a happy hour packing her dolls because although she rarely looked at them now it was inconceivable that they should be left behind. Lehzen was nothing loath. She had made quite a number of the dolls which represented characters from history – Queen Elizabeth was conspicuous among them.

‘I never liked her,’ said Victoria. ‘She was really very cruel. I believe she was a great queen and perhaps I should try to be like her in some ways, but I shall try to be good. I want to make my people happy, Lehzen, and comfortable.’

Lehzen said that was a very worthy desire and she believed that Victoria in years to come would be known as ‘Victoria the Good’.

What a pleasant thought! And there was her little dog Dash looking at her rather disconsolately as though he knew something was afoot.

‘We are going to leave Kensington, Dashy,’ she told him; and he put his head on one side and regarded her in that bright and intelligent way which she loved.

‘The only good thing Conroy ever did,’ she announced, ‘was to give Mamma Dashy.’

‘And he, being a wise dog, immediately decided to be yours.’

And Dash hearing his name mentioned gave his little series of joyous barks.

‘Oh, Dashy,’ she said, ‘I do hope you are going to like Buckingham Palace.’

‘We all shall, I’ve no doubt,’ comforted Lehzen.

‘All the same it is rather a solemn moment when one leaves one’s birthplace. Just think, Lehzen, for eighteen years this has been my home. Think of all that has happened here. Do you remember how we used to sit up here and play with the dolls?’

Lehzen remembered very well. ‘I believe Amy Robsart was your favourite.’

‘Well yes, because she was so sad and tragic.’ Victoria picked up Queen Elizabeth and gave her a little shake, as she used to in the old days. ‘Do you believe that Amy was murdered?’

‘That is something we shall never know.’

‘I remember dear Feodora’s wedding. She is very happy now with her darling children. What fun it would be, Lehzen, if they could come and visit us. I’m sure they would love it.’

‘You have only to ask them.’

‘I shall, Lehzen, I shall. Oh dear, I am going to miss dear Kensington.’

‘Buckingham Palace, as Lord Melbourne said, is far more suitable.’

So of course if Lord Melbourne said it, it must be so, and there should be no more regrets.

It was, naturally, more grand than Kensington. Her Uncle George IV had applied his considerable artistic talents to making it so, but when Uncle William and Aunt Adelaide had moved in and Adelaide had chosen some of the décor it had been voted decidedly vulgar.

With satisfaction Victoria examined her room; it was lofty, stately, and she would be alone, for she had made sure that the Duchess should have a quite separate set of apartments as far removed from her own as possible.

Standing at her window looking out across the gardens, she admitted that this was indeed a royal palace, although she still regretted Kensington for it was so hard to forget one’s birthplace and the scene of one’s childhood, girlhood and accession.

And when in bed that first night and the quiet of the Palace closed in on her she thought of the cosiness of Kensington and all the terrors of darkness descended on her. She had craved to be alone, but now the loneliness frightened her. She thought of the little Princes in the Tower – one of them the King of England. Stealthy footsteps in the night; a pillow pressed over the face. There had been scares in her childhood when a rumour had been in circulation that her uncle Cumberland had wanted the throne and was determined to get her out of the way. Uncle Cumberland was a man with an evil reputation. It was believed that he had committed one murder at least, and his wife had been married twice before and there was a certain mystery surrounding both her husbands’ deaths. That was why Mamma had said she was never to be alone; and even when she had gone down the little twisting staircase she had had to be accompanied.

Now she was the Queen. ‘Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown,’ said Shakespeare, and he was a very wise man.

It was so very quiet in the room that one might be in the heart of the country, and although many people were sleeping in the Palace, tonight they seemed far away.

Oh, yes, Lehzen was in the next room but a wall separated them and Buckingham Palace was so different from dear cosy Kensington.

Dash was sleeping in his basket. If anyone came in he would start to bark furiously. Dear, dear Dashy!

Tomorrow, she thought, I will have a door made in the wall so that Lehzen’s room can communicate directly with mine. If it was desired, that door could be left open.

On that comforting thought she went to sleep.

When Lord Melbourne asked her how she liked Buckingham Palace she told him that she liked it; it was, as he said, so much more suitable for a royal residence; and Dashy loved the gardens.

The Duchess was far from pleased with her apartments. They were too cramped, she declared. But what really angered her was that Victoria had ordered that they should be separate and some distance from her own.

It was an insult! declared the Duchess.

Sir John, who was anxious about his future, suggested that it would be unwise to make too much fuss. They had to act with tact for Victoria had shown very clearly that she had forgotten all they had done for her during her childhood and she was completely under the spell of her Prime Minister.

Sir John was sure though that his demands would be met. After all it was a delicate situation and the new Queen would be made to understand that the less talk there was about the man who was reputed to be her mother’s lover the better. The worldly wise Prime Minister would realise that; and as that same gentleman was noted for a somewhat easy-going attitude towards difficult problems Sir John felt that he was right to be optimistic.

Meanwhile Victoria was finding life agreeable, and was very eager to forget Sir John Conroy.

She had taken the Duchess of Sutherland into her household and was greatly attracted to her. Harriet Leveson Gower, Duchess of Sutherland, was at the time in her early thirties, admired for her beauty, respected for her intellect, and being a Whig she had seemed an ideal choice for Mistress of the Robes. Such a good feeling person, Victoria confided to the Baroness; and indeed dear Harriet was constantly telling her about the evils in the country that she was sometimes quite depressed about it. Harriet believed that it was everyone’s duty to improve the lot of the poor and needy and Victoria was horrified to hear of the terrible things that were happening in her realm.

She was so upset that she spoke of this to Lord Melbourne, but he was as comforting as ever.

‘Little children are being dragged from their beds at three in the morning to go to the mines and on all fours drag the carts of coal through underground passages in the coal mines!’

‘Whoever told you such stories?’

‘Harriet did. She knows a great deal about such things. She is very concerned with them.’

‘I think it better not to concern oneself with such matters.’

‘Oh, but do you, Lord Melbourne? Surely my subjects’ welfare is my concern?’

‘It is, indeed it is. But this subject does not like to see his Queen distressed.’

‘Dear Lord Melbourne, but is it not my duty … ?’

‘Your duty is to smile for the people, to let them see how happy you are to be their Queen.’

‘Oh, I am, but the thought of those poor children … little children, no older than dear Lord John Russell’s babies … dragging carriages through the mines … it is terrible.’

‘They enjoy it. It is a game to them.’

‘Can it really be?’

‘You can depend upon it.’

And of course one had to depend upon Lord Melbourne.

‘Harriet is also worried about the way lunatics are treated in our asylums, and the people working in mills and factories. Her great friend, the Earl of Shaftesbury, is determined to do something about it. He cares so much for the poor.’

‘Shaftesbury. He is not so fond of his own family. What a pity he doesn’t concern himself with making life easier for them!’

‘But dear Lord Melbourne, I feel that I should know about these things.’

‘They are things which are best left alone. Change often makes things a thousand times worse.’

Then Lord Melbourne started to tell her a funny story about Grandfather George III who visiting a cottage found a woman baking dumplings and could not understand how an apple got into a dumpling.

She rocked with laughter. Lord Melbourne could be so amusing.

She was also very fond of Lord John Russell – ‘Little Johnny’ as he was called. Lord Melbourne told her in a very humorous manner how Johnny was so small that when he stood up to speak in Parliament he could scarcely be seen above the boxes on the table. He was the Leader of the House of Commons and Victoria, although not as delighted with him as she was with her Prime Minister (that would have been impossible), found him delightful. She liked Lady John and one of the reasons she saw a great deal of the Russell family was because of the children. Little Johnny had married quite late in life, Lord Melbourne had told her, for now she and her Prime Minister discussed not only State matters but as Lord Melbourne put it, ‘everything under the sun’, which meant quite racy stories about some of his fellow members of Parliament. Not that there was anything racy about Little Johnny, who had married a widow at the age of forty-three. She already had four children by her first husband and now she and Lord John had a little girl of their own. ‘Five young children! How very happy you must be,’ cried Victoria to Lady John; and realised that one of the things she wanted most was to have children. Whenever Lady John was due to call, Victoria asked: ‘Please bring the babies.’ And what fun she had with them, racing up and down the corridors of the Palace.

‘Really,’ said Lehzen indulgently, ‘is this the Queen of England?’

And laughingly Victoria pointed out that one of the pleasures of being Queen of England was that in matters that did not interfere with State policy, a queen could do exactly as she wished.

The first little difference with Lord Melbourne came over the matter of the review of her troops in Hyde Park.

‘I will do so on horseback,’ she told her Prime Minister.

‘I think it would be better to do the review in a carriage,’ said Lord Melbourne.

‘My dear Lord Melbourne, I shall certainly not ride to review my troops in a carriage!’

‘I should tremble for your safety if you rode on horseback. It’s some time since you rode. It would be most unsafe.’

‘Then it is certainly time I showed you that I know how to manage a horse.’

For once her mother and Melbourne were in agreement.

‘It would be most improper,’ said the Duchess.

‘It would be most undignified for the Queen to ride in a carriage,’ retorted Victoria.

‘I’m afraid I cannot advise you to ride on horseback,’ replied Lord Melbourne firmly.

‘This is not a matter of State,’ she answered.

‘Begging Your Majesty’s pardon I consider it to be,’ said the Prime Minister.

She had held her head high and the colour was hot on her cheeks. ‘I refuse to ride in a carriage,’ she declared. ‘And if there is to be no horse for me there will be no review.’

Lord Melbourne thought it best to cancel the review; the news leaked out; the papers took up the story and there were rhymes about the stubborn little Queen’s disagreement with her Prime Minister; but they liked her for it. She might be tiny but she had a high spirit.

‘As for Lord Melbourne,’ Victoria commented to Lehzen, ‘he was concerned for my safety which proves once more what a good, kind, feeling man he is.’

Now that she had been proclaimed Queen and had seen her Ministers there was no reason why she should stay in London. Lord Melbourne suggested that the Court should move to Windsor, which would give Her Majesty an opportunity of enjoying the country and taking rides in the forest. A sly allusion to the review contretemps which had amused them both.

How she loved Windsor! What a fine old place and here again she must thank Uncle George IV.

‘In the days of your grandfather, the third George,’ Lord Melbourne told her, ‘it was the most uncomfortable place on earth. They used to say there was enough draught in the corridors to sail a battleship; and in the winter only your grandfather was hardy enough to go to the Chapel. It was like being in the Arctic circle.’

She so much enjoyed hearing stories of the family and what a wonderful raconteur Lord Melbourne was.

Every day he was closeted with her while they discussed State business, which was enlivened by these pleasant little anecdotes.

‘You should know these details about your family,’ said Lord Melbourne. ‘It’s history.’

She enjoyed the mornings because then she had him all to herself; it was so cosy, so friendly, so stimulating and interesting; and what more proper than that the Queen should discuss business with her Prime Minister? Nobody could explain the tiresome details of politics as lucidly as Lord M. It seemed so much more friendly to think of him by this abbreviated form of his name. He made everything so easy to understand and would never let her worry about anything.

‘It’s a mistake to worry,’ he said. ‘Worry never cured anything. Let events take their course.’

That was his motto; he was lazy, easy-going and nothing seemed so vital that one must have the smallest anxiety about it, and so many things were amusing that one could laugh at them. So much of the morning was spent in laughing. But of course she was learning all the time. She learned to love the Whigs and hate the Tories; but alas, said Lord Melbourne, the Whigs were not as strong in the House of Commons as they would like to be, but now that people were beginning to realise how friendly the Queen felt towards the Whigs, the next election would doubtless change that.

His sayings were so original. He never carried a watch, she discovered. ‘But, dear Lord M, how do you know the time?’ she asked.

‘I always ask a servant and he tells me what he likes.’

She roared with laughter. Perhaps it was the droll way Lord Melbourne made these observations which seemed so funny or perhaps she laughed so much because she was happy. She was constantly telling herself how fortunate she was to have come to the throne when Lord Melbourne was Prime Minister, for it might so easily have been grim old Lord Grey (how dreary!) or the old Duke of Wellington (how terrifying!). But it was neither of these. It was the kindest, best, most wonderful feeling man in the world.

Every afternoon they went riding in the forest, she and Lord M leading the cavalcade. The Prime Minister looked magnificent, in Victoria’s opinion, on a very fine black mare which he had had sent down from London. Behind came other members of her Government who happened to be staying at Windsor, with some of her household and guests. She herself usually rode the spirited Barbara who was a little frisky, and she was glad of this because she was eager to show Lord Melbourne that he need have no qualms about her riding. The Baroness Lehzen was sometimes of the party, following the riders in a little pony cart.

Those afternoon rides were the best part of the day … No, that was the morning, or perhaps in the evening when she would sit with Lord Melbourne beside her and they would chat and laugh in the happiest manner.

After the ride they would return to the Castle and there was a little time to be filled in before dinner. Sometimes she played games – not with Lord Melbourne this time, but with some of the younger members of the Court. One could hardly expect the Prime Minister to indulge in a game of battledore or shuttlecock. If the John Russells were there she would play with their children for a while – or any other young people who were in the Palace; and after that dinner.

Sometimes important guests would be at the Castle and she must devote a certain amount of time to them; but if a distinguished visitor must sit on her right hand it was always Lord Melbourne who sat on her left. That had come to be regarded as his special place.

The Duchess was at Windsor, of course, and while Victoria always showed affection towards her in public, there it stopped. They rarely saw each other in private.

The disappointed Duchess would sit nodding drowsily until the whist started. It was said that only the game kept her awake.

They were wonderful days; Victoria had never been so happy in the whole of her life.

What a triumphant day it was when she reviewed the troops at Windsor on horseback! There was a little tussle with Lord Melbourne about this. He said that her favourite Barbara was too frisky; she declared that she loved to ride Barbara best of all.

‘Leopold would be much safer,’ commented Lord Melbourne.

‘Then I shall ride Barbara to show you that I am not such a poor horsewoman as you appear to imagine.’

Lord Melbourne replied that he knew she was a superb horsewoman; their riding together had convinced him of that; but he was a fussy old man and he simply would not have a moment’s peace until the review was over if the Queen rode Barbara.

Since he put it in such a way what could she do but ride Leopold? Secretly she had to admit that once again Lord Melbourne was right for the review had lasted over two hours and she knew that frisky Barbara would have objected most strongly to that while Leopold had come through, his docility unimpaired.

Afterwards, taking a ride on Barbara with Lord Melbourne beside her, she had demanded: ‘And now, Lord M, have you such a poor opinion of my performance on horseback?’

‘My opinion is, as it always was, that Your Majesty performs all her duties to perfection. And when she listens to an old man who in his devotion cannot suppress his fears, unfounded as they are I am sure, then she adds understanding to her other talents and that is a rare quality.’

Trust Lord M to say exactly what one most liked to hear.

As though to make everything perfect in this very happy time, Uncle Leopold decided it was time he paid a visit, so he and Aunt Louise arrived in England.

Victoria was excited; she told Lord Melbourne of another occasion when she and Mamma had gone to Ramsgate to meet her uncle and aunt and how the people had cheered.

‘Uncle Leopold is so popular in England. I think everyone was very attached to him because of the terrible tragedy of my cousin Charlotte’s death.’

‘That was a long time ago,’ said Lord Melbourne, and she was not sure whether he was referring to Princess Charlotte’s death or Uncle Leopold’s popularity, and before she could ask he went on: ‘You cannot expect the people to go on mourning for an event which gave them their present most beloved Queen.’

‘Charlotte would have been a good Queen I am sure with Uncle Leopold to help her.’

‘I believe he is very eager to help Your Majesty … as others are.’

‘Oh, I am so lucky.’

This conversation had taken place in the blue closet, the spot she had chosen for her meetings with the Prime Minister, and therefore her favourite room. It had been even more cosy since Dash had attended the meetings.

‘Do you mind Dashy being here, Lord M?’ she had asked.

‘I am secretly delighted to see him. We share our greatest enthusiasm – devotion to Your Majesty.’

‘He is devoted. No one would think he started by being Mamma’s dog. And that horrid Sir John gave him to her. What is happening about his affairs?’

‘The gift of Dash was indeed a satisfactory act on his part but I doubt whether Your Majesty’s Government would think it worthy of a baronetcy, the income he demands, plus the Grand Order of the Bath.’

Victoria began to giggle. Trust Lord M to introduce a humorous note into the conversation!

Dash came up to sniff Lord Melbourne’s boots and when the Prime Minister patted him he licked his hands.

‘All dogs like me,’ said Lord Melbourne.

‘They are noted for their sagacity,’ replied the Queen.

And there they were laughing again. Oh, the meetings in the blue closet were such fun!

When Leopold and Louise arrived, she noticed that her uncle looked much older. So did poor Aunt Louise, and she seemed much less gay than she had been during that other visit. Of course Uncle Leopold was a little solemn. She hadn’t been aware of this before but now that she had grown accustomed to Lord Melbourne’s most amusing and original conversation she noticed these things.

They had many private conversations during which Uncle Leopold harked back somewhat to the days when she had called him her second father and how much they had always meant to each other. They wept a little but even Leopold’s tears weren’t quite the same as Lord M’s. Lord Melbourne’s appeared in his eyes and made him look so kind; whereas one felt Uncle Leopold’s meant he was sorry for himself.

Uncle Leopold was tortured by his various ailments but he did not look as ill as he implied. Lord Melbourne told her a story about Uncle Leopold and Aunt Louise which was that when Aunt Louise had said something amusing Uncle Leopold was reputed to have retorted sharply: ‘No jokes please, Madam.’ He didn’t like jokes but what harm was there in laughing? She and Lord Melbourne continually laughed but she did not think the country suffered because of that. But these faint criticisms were never allowed to be examined very closely. Victoria was essentially loyal and she would never forget her devotion to Uncle Leopold.

During her talks with him he expressed his admiration for Lord Melbourne which immediately removed that little tarnish which had touched his image. He was delighted, he said, that she had such an excellent adviser.

‘I have no doubt that he will do everything in his power to be useful to you,’ he said. ‘He was in a very awkward position with the late King who didn’t like him at all.’

‘Uncle William was so unwise in many ways, I fear.’

‘But it is very happy for Lord Melbourne now that he has your confidence and support.’

‘He shall always have it,’ she answered fervently.

At which Leopold retorted: ‘My dearest child, only while he deserves it, I hope.’

‘Of course,’ she replied, and felt faintly disloyal until she reminded herself that Lord Melbourne would always deserve it.

Uncle Leopold was disappointed that she had not taken Stockmar more into her confidence.

‘Now there is a man you can trust.’

‘I am certain of that, Uncle.’

‘I think it is possible that the letters between us may be intercepted. I must try to arrange something through Stockmar.’

He went on to say that he hoped the friendship between England and Belgium would always be strong.

‘I cannot imagine it otherwise,’ said the Queen.

‘Trouble is blowing up in Europe and the support of England may be necessary to us.’

‘I am sure Lord Melbourne will be most anxious to give it.’

‘I am sure he will if it is the wish of the Queen.’

Oh dear, she thought, it is true that dear as Uncle Leopold is to me he is the King of a foreign power; and being a princess unconcerned with politics is very different from being the Queen. She would have to talk with Lord Melbourne and ask him to explain the European situation before she could make any promises.

Still, Uncle Leopold seemed certain of her support so she left it at that. She really wanted to think of the entertainments she would offer them while they were visitors at her Court.

Lord Palmerston joined them at Windsor. She liked Palmerston, the Foreign Secretary, and of course Uncle Leopold had a great deal to say to him. Lord Palmerston was a wizard, Lord Melbourne told her; he had raised the prestige of England greatly since he had joined the Foreign Office seven years before. He was a fluent linguist and that, as Lord Melbourne said, enabled him to understand what the foreigners were getting at. Lord Melbourne told her that he was nicknamed ‘Cupid’ and that spoke for itself. He was a very gay bachelor. She replied that she really did enjoy the company of gay people.

The evenings could on occasions be a little disappointing; that was because there were usually so many people present. She would have liked more dances for she loved to dance and could do so all through the night until four in the morning without tiring of it. Unfortunately there were so few people who were considered worthy to dance with her, which was a pity. The Duchess was a continual reproach too, sitting there yawning and almost falling asleep until she felt forced to call out: ‘Dear Mamma, do go to your whist if you wish. I am sure you are longing to play.’

That would take care of the Duchess and then the Queen could indulge in some other game. Sometimes they played draughts and even chess. She challenged Aunt Louise to a game of the latter which really was amusing since they were both queens and she knew that the company were making allusions to this as the game progressed. It was particularly significant when Lord Melbourne and Palmerston hovered over her and advised her how to checkmate Aunt Louise, and Uncle Leopold advised his wife. She was so amused and laughed so much that she lost the game, which made dear Lord Melbourne look quite disconsolate.

In due course Leopold left and when he had gone she realised how much she loved him. She really did miss him.‘My dearest most beloved Uncle,’ she wrote,One line to express to you imperfectly my thanks for all your very great kindness to me and my great great grief at your departure. How I shall miss you, my dearest dear uncle, every every where. I feel very very sad and cannot speak of you both without crying …’

She was pleased that she did feel so strongly and she hoped the accentuating of important words would convince her uncle.

But it only made her all the more thankful that she had dear Lord M to turn to. And reflecting on all that had happened since her accession she wrote in her Journal … ‘This is the pleasantest summer I ever passed in my life and I shall never forget the first summer of my reign.’