by Roland Perry
The coronation was full of mistakes but Victoria had no regrets, except for one: she would have given much for her lover to have been present to experience her crowning moment.
10
THE FADING ELPH
After the coronation, the fantasy and dream of being a sovereign diminished.The same nagging problems were with her concerning her mother and Conroy. The latter had met with a railway accident but it was not serious. Melbourne said it was a pity he had not died. Victoria and Lehzen agreed, such was the bitterness Conroy had engendered over the decade in which the duchess and her daughter had become estranged. Their relationship had become damaged for so long that it was perhaps beyond repair. The duchess managed to slip her accounts £70,000 into the red, despite her increased Civil List payment. She claimed she had been paying off her husband’s debts but this had been done without fanfare by Victoria. This assertion caused more friction between them, especially as Conroy compounded the lie by telling parliament that the late Duke of Kent had no debts, which was meant to give the Kent household and himself an appearance of economic responsibility. The squabbles between the two royal households increased, and the duchess added pressure on her daughter by encouraging the duchess’s ladies to argue with Victoria. Lady Flora Hastings was the most menacing of the duchess’s household in her efforts to upset Victoria, and Lehzen, whom some admired, others loathed but all respected.
More than two years of no contact, apart from on paper, with Lord Elphinstone led Victoria into a down period. She had poured affection onto Lehzen, and Melbourne, on whom she had a girl’s crush. But having had a vibrant, intimate and exciting relationship, these were no real substitutes. Victoria longed for her dashing Scot. Her feelings had spilled into speculative press articles in 1837. By now the reports were appearing even in cartoon commentary. A drawing in 1838’s Comic Almanack by the nation’s leading caricaturist and satirist, George Cruikshank, depicted Victoria as the ‘Queen of Hearts’.The picture was accompanied by an explicit enough poem:
The Queen of Hearts,VIRGO, a bright constellation,’ (That she will turn up a trump is the hope of the nation.) By a whole pack of outlandish knaves, who are suing, Is sorely beset, for she shrinks from their wooing. Each holds out a circle in which to entrap her, And everyone hopes that he shall entrap her. But occult operations behind the state curtain Shew an Elph, that makes their success very uncertain . . .
Cruickshank was respected for his impartiality in covering court and political events. He had few peers in his comprehension of matters concentrating the minds of parliament and the monarchy. His drawing expressed something troubling those in the court and cabinet: headstrong Victoria was more determined than ever that she would end the exile of her lover and transport him back to the palace. Others were now picking up on the rumours. One satirical piece in a London paper, which was syndicated worldwide and even appeared as far away as the convict colony of Van Diemen’s Land (later Tasmania). The article in The Hobart Town Courier was by-lined ‘The Satirist’. The opening read: ‘We have derived from high sources, the following interesting documents, the authenticity of which it is impossible to doubt.’ The first alleged letter from Victoria, addressed ‘Windsor Castle,’ began: ‘Dear Elphinstone—you cannot think how I long for your return from that filthy hot place in which I am sure you must be melted. Indeed, indeed, I am very anxious to see you.Why can you not return . . .?’
This article was wrong on several counts, but it demonstrated how far and wide the knowledge of the relationship, and their desire to be reunited, was known. But Elphinstone’s tour had now been extended by Melbourne to five years in the hope that this issue would not be revived and therefore add to the divide between the households. The young queen felt her feelings for Elphinstone would never die, although time, distance and realities could modify her thoughts about how the future would be ‘managed.’
Victoria’s relationship with King Leopold had deteriorated through 1838. She had not appreciated his pushing further for Prince Albert to be her future consort. Victoria’s memory of Albert was of a beautiful, effete boy. She had but a mild interest in a future with him. Leopold, the once-favourite uncle, had been too much influenced by the duchess and Conroy. In Victoria’s eyes now, Leopold was exposed as a user, a permanent opportunist. He asked Victoria to help out financially her sister-sovereigns in Spain and Portugal. He went too far in demanding that she use her influence with Melbourne to aid the Belgians in their territorial disputes with the Dutch after the Treaty of 1831.Victoria was older now and a monarch, not sixteen and a beleaguered, vulnerable princess. She would never be above championing a cause she felt right, no matter what her constitutional position. But in this case, she would play the compliant monarch doing the correct thing. Victoria turned the matter over to her prime minister. Melbourne drafted her response to Leopold. Victoria touched it up, making it a more severe reply that created a rift with her uncle. She thought she might avoid political discussion with him in the future, but as politics and royalty were conjoined, there was little hope of that.Yet Victoria did resolve to avoid political influence from abroad. Baron Stockmar, who had been placed with Victoria by Leopold to enhance his position and future bargaining power in everything, became a casualty of Victoria’s more mature approach. He remained in the court but on the outer in terms of his influence.
Melbourne was spending up to six hours a day with Victoria towards the end of 1838. In effect, he became her part-time and main ‘carer’. Rumours even developed about their relationship. When they were out at night, calls of ‘Mrs Melbourne’ greeted them. The prime minister laughed off the comments, which he may have accepted as complimentary, given the age gap between them. He was determined to bolster and steady the young monarch. Her mood could be vindictive. Conroy always, the duchess most of the time, and her mother’s lady-in-waiting Flora Hastings often were the subject of acute prejudices. The young queen did not yet realise how seemingly trivial gossip could have ramifications far beyond her household, and that what began as personal incidents could become matters affecting the government.
A rumour among the household ladies mounted early in 1839 about Conroy concerning the unmarried, 32-year-old Lady Flora. He was seen many times in her room, even by Victoria when she wandered the palace. She and Lehzen wondered if Conroy, well known for his womanising, was having a secret affair with her. Flora was just his type, they decided: elegant without being ravishing, graceful without being alluring. She was the eldest daughter of the first Marquess of Hastings and attractive enough to capture any man’s attention.
On 10 January 1839, she saw the duchess’s physician, James Clark, who had been knighted by Victoria. Lady Flora had been ill with intermittent swelling of the stomach for about a month. Clark, not for the first time, was troubled in his diagnosis, or lack of it. He had recently caused concern with everyone, even the duchess and Victoria, when he disclosed an ambition to allow an esteemed medical colleague, Dr Arnott, to make an enquiry into hygiene at the palace.Victoria had indulged Clark to learn more about his friend. Arnott, she was told in earnest tones, believed that ‘bad’ air was the cause of all illnesses, even death. Clark concurred (or conspired) with Arnott in the obsession that proper ventilation would allow people to live for 300 years. Without blinking,Victoria had expressed interest, but then told Melbourne she did not want the survey carried out. Unsaid but understood was that Clark’s obsession had led him down the path of quackery, yet still Victoria kept him on.
Unmindful of all this, Lady Flora took his advice concerning the illness. He did not carry out an examination other than the odd mild prod in her midriff. Instead he prescribed ‘very simple remedies’, which he made up himself. It consisted of twelve rhubarb and ipecacuanha pills, and a liniment compound of camphor, soap and opium. Lady Flora was advised to take a pill at bedtime and to rub the liniment on her stomach, or any affected part of her body.This she did dutifully but the pain did not subside. Clark said he wanted to see her twice a week for the n
ext five weeks.
On 12 January 1839,Victoria and Lehzen noted a ‘change’ in Lady Flora’s figure. They thought she was pregnant. Given their disregard for the cool, partisan lady-in-waiting, their amateur assumption was wishful thinking. Their imaginations ran wild. Conroy continued to be seen with her. She had spent the recent Christmas holidays with her mother at Loudoun Castle in Scotland and had travelled back to London with him. Could they be having an affair? Could she be pregnant to him? The thought titillated them. If this were true then it could be the answer for driving their two antagonists out of the palace and their lives.Victoria then discussed the rumour with Melbourne, as she did almost all things on her mind. He thought it likely that Conroy was having an affair with Lady Flora. Part of his conclusion came from noticing the duchess’s jealousy of her for the time spent with Conroy.
‘What an amazing scape of a man he is,’ Melbourne remarked, ‘to have kept three ladies [Conroy’s wife, Lady Flora and King George III’s daughter Princess Sophia] in good humour.’
Victoria was not amused. She observed with vehemence: ‘He is capable of every villainy.’
Soon after this, Clark told one of the palace ladies that he thought Lady Flora appeared to be pregnant. His comments were indiscreet, but he was trying to reassert his claims to being a diagnostician. He had blundered in not understanding Victoria’s illnesses in late 1835; now he was jumping in quickly to assess Lady Flora, just in case he was seen to be tardy in his medical analysis once more.
The assessment circulated the court and reached one of the ‘delicate’ senior ladies of the bedchamber, the ‘monkey-faced, mischievous’ Lady Tavistock, who took most seriously her role as moral guardian of the women at court. She spoke to Lehzen about the ‘shocking’ development. Lehzen suggested she should bypass the duchess and speak to Melbourne about it, knowing that the prime minister already believed that Lady Flora might be in ‘the family way’. Lady Tavistock met Melbourne. He suggested that she keep the story to herself and ‘observe’. Doctors often made mistakes. The prime minister was generalising but he had the inimitable Clark in mind. Many at court and outside it knew of his less-than-convincing medical judgements and theories.
Melbourne then asked to speak with Clark.What was his opinion? The doctor explained his rhubarb treatment. Melbourne had always enjoyed his rhubarb with cream rather than camphor and had no idea of its efficacy. He wanted to know if Lady Flora were pregnant. Clark hedged his bets. He could not be certain, unless he examined her, and Lady Flora had refused his offer. This increased his suspicion that pregnancy was a strong possibility. Lady Flora continued to do her duties with little apparent inconvenience, which Clark believed indicated that she did not have a disease. This left the other option. But he was making his call less on medical analysis and more on moral indignation. The consensus at court was that she was having an affair with Conroy. Her shape and responses to Clark’s expert verbal probes suggested that her relationship with Conroy had probably created her condition. This was not quite enough evidence for Melbourne, who was aware of Clark’s eccentricities and extreme ‘fresh air’ theories. He agreed to a wait-and-see policy—which meant watching Lady Flora to see if her middle region expanded.
The whispering became louder at court. the prime minister’s two interviews with Lady Tavistock and Clark fuelled, then confirmed, the salacious, outrageous and delicious story. Victoria feigned shock but could not disguise her delight. ‘We have no doubt she is—to use plain words—with child!’ she wrote with relish. ‘Clark cannot deny the suspicion; the horrid cause of this is the Monster and demon incarnate . . .JC.’
This diary entry for 2 February 1839 gave Victoria a sweet sense of revenge. Lady Flora and Conroy had been horrible during her medical crisis three-and-a-half years earlier. Now the two of them were receiving godly justice and punishment. It seemed to Victoria that the Lord could be so wickedly symmetrical yet apt in dispensing justice.
Court atmospherics were electrified. Victoria made sure her mother was informed of Lady Flora’s condition and was pleased to hear (they were still not talking) that she was stunned. The ladies decided, for Victoria’s sake, that Lady Flora could not appear at court again until her situation had been cleared up, one way or the other.This led to her submitting to an examination from Sir Charles Clarke, a specialist in women’s diseases, with Clark in attendance. Lady Flora was humiliated but emerged triumphantly with a ‘certificate’, signed by the two doctors, that said in as many words that she was a virgin. She claimed that the doctors did not believe she was or had been pregnant.
But despite the lack of evidence of vaginal penetration, the doctors were still unconvinced. Lady Flora appeared to have an enlarged womb. They saw Melbourne and told him of their doubts, which they had not expressed in the certificate. Victoria let her mother know of the uncertainty in a note. The duchess was outraged. She supported Lady Flora, dismissed Clark from her service, and advised Victoria to do the same. She refused. Clark would stay in her employ. She could not afford to fire him, because he, like Lehzen, knew of the Elphinstone affair, which was ongoing, if only on paper and from a great distance. Clark’s royal job was saved, but his prestige was in danger. Melbourne urged Victoria to see him a lot and to humour him. The Scot was furious about the dent in his reputation. He had a sudden loss of patients.
11
VICTORIA FACES THE ‘M’ WORD
The scandal broke out of the stifling confines of Buckingham Palace. Indignant relatives, including Lady Flora’s powerful, though ailing, father, Lord Hastings, demanded to see Melbourne. He wanted to know who had sullied the good name of the family and his daughter. The story broadened and was seen as a Whig plot against the Tories, given the Hastings’ conservative politics. Melbourne assured him that this was not the case, and blamed it all, with some truth, on the tittle-tattle among the ladies in waiting. Meanwhile, Victoria sent for Lady Flora, not to apologise but to offer much sympathy.The queen had to be seen to be hovering above the fray. Otherwise it may have caused the hurt lady to tell everyone the story from those heady days of October 1835 when she had been in the middle of the troubles over Victoria’s medical problems. Lady Flora was not appeased. Her influential relatives kept pushing for the truth about who had begun the poisonous commentary that had besmirched their innocent daughter’s reputation. No-one at the palace would say. Lehzen and Clark were singled out as probable culprits. There were calls for their dismissal but Melbourne brushed them aside with some diplomacy. He knew Victoria would not dismiss these two from the court. As far as she was concerned they appeared to have tenure while she was queen. Given good health and propitious circumstances, that could be decades.
Conroy could not be kept out of the controversy and was determined to undermine the palace. Behind the scenes—his favourite territory—he used newspapers to goad Hastings into public disclosure over the scandal-mongering.A useful facility for publicity was to have damaging, accusatory letters published, for they always stirred London’s chattering classes. One such communication was published in The Examiner by Lady Flora herself. She claimed Clark had been talked into believing she was in the family way.The ‘talker’ she was convinced was ‘a certain foreign lady’, whom everyone knew had to be Lehzen. The ‘scandal’ became a political issue. Melbourne and the palace, with Victoria targeted too, were attacked in the press. By 22 March 1839, Melbourne’s government was defeated by five votes in parliament’s upper chamber. If he went down in any count in the Commons, his government would fall.Victoria was in despair. She felt partly responsible and feared losing Melbourne. He was not just a solicitous prime minister; he was her best and most powerful friend. She was worried about a Tory government coming to power.
‘But I am but a poor helpless girl who clings to him for support & protection,’ Victoria wailed into her journal, ‘& the thought of ALL, ALL my happiness being possibly at stake, so completely overcame me that I burst into tears and remained crying for some time.’
The Comm
ons did not go against Melbourne and he clung to power. Still the feuds raged. Victoria froze out Lady Flora again, and enraged her supporters in the press. Deeper down,Victoria would have loved to have removed her mother from the palace, which would mean Conroy would be gone too. The old Duke of Wellington intervened, trying to persuade Conroy to leave. Melbourne said Conroy would not listen and he was correct. Victoria’s popularity dipped mainly because the press—the main vehicle for informing the public—was turning against her. Clark’s head was called for again, but he let it be known that he would write to the papers if Victoria sacked him. Most presumed that he would tell his side of the current Lady Flora story, but there was a real threat to Victoria that he would go back to October 1835 to demonstrate what a rotten cad Conroy had been all along.
The sordid accusations raged on. Melbourne could see his government falling. He was not desperate but did wish to hold his position, if only to guide the young monarch through trying times. He decided to sow the seed of a solution in Victoria’s mind. It revolved around one idea: marriage. She would have her own household if she had a consort, who would have his own entourage.‘The duchess’ (as the queen still referred to her mother with scorn and hatred), ‘the Devil’ (Conroy) and that ‘wretched woman’ (Lady Flora) would be superfluous and vanish with all the problem baggage they carried.Victoria disliked the marriage concept put to her. She called it the ‘schocking [sic] alternative’.
Melbourne had to understand, Victoria told him, that she only wished to discuss it, not to do it. She could hardly utter the ‘m’ word. In fact, the prime minister was not allowed to talk about it now, only later, when she was ready. There were several blocks in her mind. First and foremost, she still had strong feelings only for Lord Elphinstone, even though their affair had been four years earlier and he had been in India for 26 months. He had mentioned in his letters to her a desire to visit London in the middle of his five-year tour of Madras.Victoria did not disclose this to Melbourne, whom, she had learned, had engineered Elphinstone’s banishment in the first place. Melbourne’s ‘answer’ was again to interfere in her private life, this time in an even more important manner.Victoria acknowledged marriage could, just could, have merit. She would have realised more than before that she could not consider her first love as a partner and prince consort. His lack of royal credentials would be a problem, although that had not hindered her thinking when she was a princess. But now she was queen, she had a different perspective. He could be placed as a courtier. Perhaps she could then resume a secret relationship with him. Elphinstone had been a lord of the bedchamber for her predecessor, which made him a close companion of the king. He could be appointed to a similar, suitable position close to her. For one thing, Elphinstone was a Privy Councillor. For another, he was in the Lords. In the latter role, he could become a lord-in-waiting and a member of the royal household, officially informing her of goings-on in the upper chamber.That would give her ‘access’.Victoria wondered if she could have an ‘arranged’ marriage with a suitable partner, while keeping up the relationship with a lover. Many monarchs had done this over the centuries.Why couldn’t she?
