Jean Plaidy - [Queens of England 03]

by Victoria Victorious

  “He would, of course. He would feel it was the honorable thing to do.”

  “The Duke of Wellington would not accept his resignation. I believe he was of the opinion that Lord Melbourne was too good a politician to have his career ruined because of what might have been a run of bad fortune.”

  “How right he was!” I shivered. Suppose Lord Melbourne had resigned. Someone else would have been Prime Minister. I could not imagine that there could be anyone who would please me as Lord Melbourne did. I was indeed glad that he had not resigned.

  “And that son of his?”

  “He died.”

  “Oh dear. What terrible sadness he has had in his life!”

  “In a way he was lucky. Lady Caroline would have been no wife for a Prime Minister. Imagine the scandal she would have created. He is better without her. As for his son…he would have been a grief to him. Imagine a man as erudite as Lord Melbourne with a son who could not read.”

  “Oh yes, indeed. But he has had a sad, sad life.”

  “He is really very resilient.”

  “He is a wonderful man, and, of course, there are always those who are ready to pull down those who tower above them.”

  “Your Majesty is right, but his lordship did get involved on these occasions, and he does seem a little unfortunate with the women with whom he became involved.”

  “I have always found his conduct just what it should have been. I am sure he has been the prey of unscrupulous people.”

  The Duchess looked at me intently and said, “I see that Lord Melbourne has made a favorable impression on Your Majesty.”

  “I find him honest and straightforward; and I am sure he will not fail to be truthful to me.”

  I was glad I knew something of his past. A man who had come through so much would naturally be very worldly and sophisticated. I admired him more than ever. I liked that easy nonchalance; and most of all, I think, I liked his manner, which was so delightfully protective. He gave me courage, which was what I needed at that time; he made me feel that I was entirely capable of performing my duty, and I was confident that, with such a man to guide me, I could not fail.

  AFTER I HAD learned about Lord Melbourne’s adventurous past I felt closer to him than ever. I had the greatest admiration for a man who could go through so much and appear unscathed by it. It was the right attitude to life, I decided. I must try to emulate it.

  I told him once how I never ceased to be grateful that I had come to the throne when he was Prime Minister. “For,” I added, “it could so easily have been someone else.”

  “You would have found whoever was there was just as able to advise Your Majesty.”

  “This is the first time I have had to disagree with you, Lord Melbourne.”

  “It is true, Your Majesty.”

  “Lord Melbourne, I must ask you not to contradict the Queen.”

  Then we burst into laughter. He stood up and bowed very solemnly. “A thousand pardons, Ma’am,” he said. “You are right, and to be honest, in my heart, I am in complete agreement with you.”

  There was nothing solemn about him. He made everything a matter for amusement. He was so consoling.

  I told him about my dear friend Harriet, of whom I grew fonder every day.

  “Your Majesty is of a most affectionate nature.”

  “Anyone would be fond of Harriet. She is so handsome…so tall. I do wish I were not so short. Everyone else seems to grow …except me. I always have to look up to people.”

  “No, Ma’am, it is everyone who must look up to you.”

  “I mean in inches.”

  “We have so many instances in public life of people who are less than average height in stature rising to great heights in achievement. Think of Lord Nelson. He was a little man. Napoleon…”

  “I would not wish to be as he was.”

  He put his hand inside his jacket and struck a Napoleonic pose, which made me laugh.

  “I think there is very little danger of that happening, Ma’am,” he said. “Oh, there are instances everywhere. Personally I think giantesses and Amazons a most unappealing brand of female.”

  “You make me feel better, Lord Melbourne, as always.”

  “Shall I tell you a secret?”

  “Oh yes, please do.”

  “You remember the first Council meeting when you came in looking so young…so tiny…so regal…? There was not a dry eye in the place. You conquered all by your… slightness. You looked so young, so appealing that there was not a man there who would not have died for you. I doubt they would have felt the same emotion if confronted by a monumental figure of a Queen.”

  He looked at me with tears in his eyes and I thought: Yes, he is right. They did like me. I could sense their feeling for me. So perhaps it is not so bad to be small.

  “Of course,” I went on, “I am a little plump.”

  “We do not want a skeleton to rule us, Ma’am.”

  And I was laughing again.

  “It is because the Duchess is so beautiful …” I tried to explain. “I love to look at her face. She is so animated … almost always. She has a delicate nose, so beautifully shaped. Mine is rather big. You must admit it.”

  “I will only admit to its being exactly the right shape and size to fit. In fact, did you know that people with little noses rarely achieve greatness?”

  “Is that so?”

  “Undeniable.”

  I laughed and said, “This is a strange conversation for a queen to have with her prime minister. We ought to be talking of serious matters. Harriet is very serious.”

  “She seems to possess all the virtues.”

  “She is very good, quite noble. She is worried about the poor. She is on committees about slavery and chimney sweeps and children working in the mines. She says the government should do something about it. She talks very earnestly and sometimes she makes me weep. When I think of little ones dragging trolleys through underground passages… little children bent double… They are so young… little more than babies.”

  “It is better for them to do that than to starve.”

  “Harriet thinks something should be done for them. Could it be looked into? Harriet says it is the government’s problem.”

  “I don’t think these children would be happy if their livelihood was taken away from them. It is better to leave these things alone.”

  “It worries me. I think of it at night.”

  “Your thoughts should not be disturbed by such matters. The Duchess of Sutherland is a very worthy lady—oh, so tall with the most squeeny nose—but that does not necessarily mean that she is the fount of all wisdom. As I told you, smaller people with larger noses, can have a greater share of that desirable commodity.”

  So I was laughing with him again and he made me forget about those little children down the mines. After all, I told myself, it is better to work than to starve.

  I did have one disagreement with Lord Melbourne and I think I rather surprised him by my firmness.

  There was to be a review of the troops in Hyde Park and to my horror Mama suggested that I should ride in a carriage. I believe she had suggested this because if I did so, she could ride with me. I imagined her sitting there haughtily acknowledging the cheers of the crowd, which were meant for me.

  I laughed at the idea.

  “Of course not,” I said. “Monarchs review troops on horseback. The idea of reviewing troops in a carriage!”

  Mama pointed out that I had not ridden since my attack of typhoid fever and I was unfit to do so.

  It was true that I had not ridden since then, and that I had taken a long time to recover, but to ride in a carriage…Never!

  I told Lord Melbourne about it and to my dismay he said, “I agree with the Duchess. Your Majesty must not review the troops on horseback.”

  “How can troops be reviewed from a carriage?”

  “Quite easily. Everyone will understand.”

  “Understand what? That I am unfit to ride a horse
… that I am afraid?”

  “It would be too much of a risk, Ma’am. You would have to ride with Wellington.”

  “And why should I not?”

  “It must be a carriage. Parliament will insist.”

  “Can they do that?”

  He nodded gravely.

  “Well then,” I said, “if there is to be no horse, there will be no review.”

  He looked at me in astonishment. It was the first time I had seen him at a loss for words.

  I did not believe for one moment that the review would be canceled, but it was. They were all—including Lord Melbourne—afraid that because it was some time since I had ridden, I should be unable to stand the strain.

  Of course I realized that his attitude was due to his care of me and it did not make any difference to our relationship. But I think he was a little taken aback by my resolution to have my own way.

  KENSINGTON PALACE WAS not a suitable home for the sovereign andabout two weeks after my accession, I decided to make Buckingham Palace my London residence. The rooms pleased me. They were high, pleasant, and cheerful. It was great fun inspecting it. I decided that the Picture Gallery and the Bow Room should be properly ventilated, and that sinks must be put in the chambermaids’ bedrooms. This could be done while I was at Windsor where I should be going shortly. I was delighted that Dash loved the gardens, and we enjoyed romping together on the grass all by ourselves.

  There was one thing I did not like so much about the Palace. It was vast, and my bedroom seemed a long way from that of Lehzen. My mother, of course, had her own separate apartments, and I had made sure that they were some way from mine. Sometimes I would wake in the night and listen to the silence. Then I would hear a creaking board and fancy the little noises I heard were footsteps. I had never been nervous in Kensington. How could I have been? I was never alone, with Lehzen sitting with me until Mama came to bed. But now that I had the satisfaction of being alone, I found the nights eerie.

  I was talking to Lord Melbourne one day. He came every morning to discuss State matters—and of course we liked to talk of other things as well. Nothing could have been less like a queen talking to her prime minister. I even used to bring Dash in with me. I was delighted that when Lord Melbourne spoke in his charming musical voice, Dash immediately responded. In no time he was licking the Prime Minister’s hand.

  “That is wonderful!” I cried. “He is not so friendly with everyone, I can tell you.”

  “He knows I am a friend of yours. But dogs always like me.”

  “They know who is good and kind to them.”

  “Good and kind in an animal world often means the supplying of food; but I do believe dogs have a special sense.”

  “Oh, so do I.”

  “This little fellow would protect you with his life.”

  “Yes, that is what I feel when I wake up in the night and see him asleep in his basket. I feel very comforted.”

  Then because I could talk to him as easily as I could to Lehzen, I told him that, in the night when I awoke, I felt a little shivery. “It is so quiet there…so vast…I feel… rather alone.”

  He was deeply concerned.

  “You see,” I explained, “all my life I wanted to sleep alone, and I never did until I became Queen. Always I slept in Mama’s room and Lehzen was there until Mama came up. I was never left alone for a moment and I thought: As soon as I become Queen, the first thing I shall do is sleep alone. On the very first day I had my bed removed from Mama’s room. But when we went to Buckingham Palace I found that I was uneasy. When I am in bed alone I hear creaks in the corridors … sometimes they sound like footsteps, and I think of all the kings and queens who have been murdered in their beds.”

  “Oh, but you are quite safe.”

  “So thought they… and they were not. I think of the little Princes in the Tower and their wicked Uncle Richard having them murdered.”

  “There is a theory that he did not do it.”

  “Well, if he did not, who did?”

  “It was, some say, Henry the Seventh. Horace Walpole started it a number of years ago.”

  “I had not heard it.”

  “We must discuss the evidence one day.”

  “But that does not alter the fact that they disappeared mysteriously. Then there was Edward the Second, Richard the Second and what about Henry the Sixth and the Duke of Clarence. I believe he was pushed into a butt of Malmsey.”

  “What dramatic lives your ancestors lived! But I suppose that is inevitable, taking into consideration the times.”

  It occurred to me that kings were not the only ones who had dramatic lives. My dear Lord Melbourne had had his share of drama.

  He went on, “But we cannot allow your fears to continue. We must make sure that you sleep soundly. You have your beloved Lehzen near at hand, I believe.”

  “She seems very far away at Buckingham Palace.”

  “I know what we will do. We will have a hole made in a wall and a communicating door to the next room made—and the next room shall be Lehzen’s chamber.”

  “I do not want not to be alone.”

  “Of course not. To be alone! It is an achievement. You cannot go back to the watchdogs. That work must be put in hand right away and then I feel sure that instead of brooding on the gory ends of your ancestors, you will be lulled to gentle sleep.”

  “Oh, Lord Melbourne,” I said, “you are so good. You have an answer for everything.”

  And in the shortest possible time the work was done and I began to feel very comfortable at night, and to be entirely pleased that I had made the move to Buckingham Palace.

  I wanted to give an entertainment there—a sort of housewarming; but it seemed out of the question because we were in mourning for the death of Uncle William. But Lord Melbourne, who was so advanced, said that he thought mourning was an old-fashioned custom that should have gone out long ago, and he suggested that there should be one day when the Court could go out of mourning. It was to be a concert which, he said, could not be called a riotous entertainment, but really very serious and in keeping with a mourning period.

  “What an excellent idea!” I cried; and I started to plan.

  I engaged my favorite artiste who was, of course, Madame Grisi. Madame Albertazzi, Signor Lablache, and Signor Tamburini joined her, and I was in an ecstasy of delight listening to their wonderful voices. It was a great success.

  It had been an excellent idea to stop the mourning for a day, I told Lord Melbourne. I was sure Uncle William would have approved of that; he had always been one who liked to enjoy life and he would be the last to want people to be miserable because he was dead. Lord Melbourne agreed with me.

  A few days later I went on my first official engagement after coming to the throne. It was to open a new gate in Hyde Park in the Bayswater Road, which I christened Victoria. I enjoyed it. I did like seeing the people, but as I remarked afterward to Lord Melbourne, I hoped they would not get tired of seeing me.

  “There seems to be no sign of that, Ma’am,” he said.

  “Not yet. But they have not seen much of me. I am young, you see, and I may be Queen for a very long time.”

  “I pray that may be so,” he said fervently; and I saw the tears in his beautiful eyes. Again I thought how fortunate I was to have him as my Prime Minister.

  I said to him, “Later on, when there is less talk of mourning, I should like to give a small dance once a week. Not a big ball… just a little dance for friends. You know I love to dance.”

  “We all love doing that which we do well,” he commented, which was a lovely compliment; and he thought that a weekly dance was a good idea.

  “Perhaps we could have a band in the Palace to play for us before dinner and during it.”

  “Another excellent idea!” declared Lord Melbourne. “I can see you are going to give the Court a more cultural standing.”

  “You do think that is a good idea…really?”

  “I think all your ideas are good.”<
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  “What of riding on horseback to review the troops?”

  “There have to be exceptions to all rules. It is a law of nature.”

  “I believe you were really worried about my falling off.”

  “It is long since you rode, and reviewing troops can be a long and tedious business.”

  “I am going to ride every day when we get to Windsor, and I will show you that I am as good a horsewoman as I ever was.”

  “I am sure you will be.”

  “In August we shall go to Windsor.”

  “Your Majesty knows that there is to be an election.”

  I was alarmed. “You will still be the Prime Minister.”

  “If we are returned to power, yes.”

  “And if not?”

  “Doubtless my place will be taken by Sir Robert Peel.”

  “Oh no!”

  “He is a very worthy gentleman… highly thought of.”

  “I could not bear it if you were taken away from me.”

  “Then we will do our best to get a majority.”

  “I hate those Tories!”

  “Some of them are very estimable gentlemen. It is not their fault exactly if their views do not coincide with ours.”

  “Of course you will be returned.”

  He raised his eyebrows and a terrible misgiving came to me. I knew there had been a great deal of murmuring because the ladies of my household were the wives and daughters of Whigs. Sir Robert Peel did not like it. He thought I should have a mixture of Whig and Tory.

  As a matter of fact so did Uncle Leopold. He had written to me telling me to select the ladies of my household with the greatest care, making sure not to let politics come into it. But Lord Melbourne and I had drawn up the list and had had the most amusing things to say about it; and all the ladies were of Whig persuasion naturally because Lord Melbourne was one and therefore so was I. Of course I did not listen to Uncle Leopold as much as I used to. He was after all a foreigner—which seems an odd thing to say about one so close to me—but Lord Melbourne was on the spot and he naturally was far more conversant with English politics than Uncle Leopold could possibly be.

  It was my duty to go in state to dissolve Parliament, for according to law there must be a new election on the death of a sovereign. Had it not been for my fear that an election might rob me of Lord Melbourne, I could have enjoyed the occasion. I did feel very exhilarated by such state duties. They were so dignified and I do believe that I performed them well; and in those days there was scarcely a breath of criticism. I really was the beloved little Queen.