The Queen and Lord M (15 page)

It was rather a solemn day. There were so many people to see and so many congratulations to receive. The guns fired a salute in the Park and she went on to the balcony to wave to the crowds. The people were charmed with her. ‘Like a little doll,’ they said. ‘No more than a girl.’

This was clearly a very important occasion, but one of Mamma’s presents gave her a few uneasy moments. It was a copy of King Lear.

Oh dear, thought Victoria, I never really liked King Lear. It’s rather an
unpleasant
play. Besides it is about ungrateful daughters. I do hope Mamma is not trying to
spoil
this day.

It was impossible to spoil the State ball. The ballroom was beautiful and the ladies in their laces and ribbons, satins and velvets, feathers and diamonds, were charming.

They were all waiting for her and she went through the saloon to the ballroom feeling a little nervous (but she remembered that Lord Melbourne had said that all people with high and
right
feelings were sometimes nervous) and there the dazzling scene met her eyes; everyone watched her as she made her entrance; the men bowed and the ladies curtsied as she took her place on the sofa.

The band played Strauss music and she thought she had never heard anything so beautiful as a Strauss band.

Alas that she could not join in the waltz. That was too intimate and as there was no young Royalty present no one was worthy to put an arm about her waist as was done in this rather daring dance. So she could only join in the quadrilles and the gavottes and such dances, which she did with gusto.

She would never
never
tire of dancing, she told her partners. And she hoped every one of her guests was enjoying this
lovely
ball as much as she was.

There was one disappointment. She had expected Lord Melbourne to come and pay his respects. How pleasant it would have been to sit beside him on the sofa while the waltz was in progress which would have been almost as good as dancing. But Lord Melbourne was not at the ball, which was very odd indeed.

While she was dancing she forgot Lord Melbourne. Lord Alfred Paget really was most amusing and very handsome. She had been slightly aware of him when out riding but had been too absorbed in Lord Melbourne’s brilliant conversation to take much notice of him. Now she could appreciate his good looks and his devotion; he really was rather charming.

He was twenty-one, he told her, two years older than she was; and he had a retriever called Mrs Bumps. Victoria laughed at the name.

‘What an odd name! I daresay she is very dignified and adores you.’

Lord Alfred thought this might be true of Mrs Bumps; he admitted that he had a portrait of Her Majesty which he carried with him always and that Mrs Bumps, whom he was determined should be as staunch an admirer of Her Majesty as he was himself, also wore a portrait of the Queen about her neck.

‘What a wonderful idea!’ cried Victoria. ‘I think that is excellent. A dog to wear my portrait!’

‘Why not?’ demanded Lord Alfred. ‘Mrs Bumps is one of your subjects also.’

She was enchanted.
What
a wonderful ball! But now they were playing the waltz and she must sit on her sofa and watch them, when she would so much have loved to be dancing the waltz – perhaps with Lord Alfred.

Then her thoughts turned to Lord Melbourne. It really was strange that he should be absent.

It was supper time and she led the way into the banqueting room where the royal liveried footmen were waiting to serve. Everyone seemed to want to have a word with the Queen and she was eager to speak to as many as possible for she was not in the least tired.

‘Oh, no,’ she cried to solicitous enquiries, ‘I could go on dancing all night.’

And she did, for it was four o’clock before the ball was over.

When she was very young, before her accession, one of her greatest treats had been to stay up late and she still felt excited to do so. It had been a heavenly ball, and it shall be the first of many, she promised herself.

She was too excited to sleep so she decided to write in her Journal:

‘A charming ball. I have spent the happiest birthday that I have had for many years. I have been dancing till past four o’clock. Only one regret I had and that was that my excellent good kind friend Lord Melbourne was not there.’

The next day while she was at breakfast a note arrived from Lord Melbourne. It contained profuse apologies and stated that he had been unable to attend the ball because he was both unwell and disturbed.

Lord Melbourne unwell! Lord Melbourne disturbed! She was in a panic.

‘I
knew
he did not take enough care of himself,’ she told the Baroness. ‘I have told him often that he must not go out in the cold wind.’

‘The wind is scarcely lethal at this time of the year,’ commented Lehzen.

‘But it is precisely at this time of the year that we have to be
most
careful. Oh, I do hope he is not ill. I must send a messenger. I must know.’

‘Even if he is ill the Queen of England can’t very well act as his nurse, you know.’

Victoria turned troubled eyes on Lehzen. Good Heavens! thought Lehzen, how far do her feelings go for this man? Is she in love with him?

Absurd! Preposterous! Little innocent Victoria and a man of fifty-eight … fifty-nine more likely. Nearly sixty, cited in two divorce cases, involved in a
cause célèbre
with his wife. Melbourne and the Queen of England!

Lehzen was beginning to feel worried.

During the morning Lord Melbourne called at the Palace. Victoria could not wait to greet him. Her expression was very serious but she was immediately relieved to find that he looked much the same as usual.

‘My dear Lord M, you are unwell.’

Lord Melbourne touched his brow with a beautiful graceful motion.

‘A little disturbed,’ he said.

‘Only disturbed … not ill?’

‘I was very, very anxious last evening because I fear a crisis in the House of Commons.’

‘Oh, is that all? I was afraid you were sick.’

‘Sick with anxiety perhaps,’ he said.

‘Is it so bad?’

‘You remember that we have perpetual trouble with Ireland. It’s a complicated situation, always on the simmer, ready to boil over into trouble. The tithe system and the poverty of the people, the state of their municipal government, all these are such as to make an uneasy country. They’re an excitable people. One feels that if their land were turned into Utopia they’d find fault with something. There is a continual conflict between the Catholic and Protestant population. They can’t settle down together as they do in England. They have to be at each other’s throats all the time. We can be sure of one thing only. Whatever legislation was brought in there would be trouble about it. The resolution regarding the Church is now under discussion as to whether or not it should be rescinded. You know we have a very small majority in the House, and a thing like this could bring down the Government.’

‘No!’

‘It’s true. If the vote went against us and we were defeated we should fall and Sir Robert Peel, the Leader of the Opposition, would come along and ask Your Majesty’s permission to form a new Government.’

‘I should never give my permission.’

‘But that is something you would be obliged to do.’

‘I … the Queen!’ Her eyes were brilliant, her cheeks flushed. ‘I never would.’

‘Your Majesty’s temper is a little choleric,’ he said with a tender smile.

‘Do you expect me to agree to this when I know what it would mean?
You
would cease to be my Prime Minister.’

He nodded, making one of his grimaces which usually amused her but did not do so on this occasion.

‘That,’ she said firmly, ‘is something I should never allow.’

Lord Melbourne’s eyes filled with tears and at the sight of them she wanted to repeat her determination even more emphatically.

‘Alas that you cannot enforce your sweet will,’ he said, so poetically, she thought, that she could have burst into tears. ‘Ours is a Constitutional Monarchy and that means that we all – even our Sovereign – must obey the rules of the Constitution. The Government is elected by the people and since our Reform Bill all sorts and conditions have been allowed to vote. Therefore Your Majesty’s Government cannot always be of your choosing.’

‘But to change Governments. How foolish! Why?’

‘Because ours is not a strong Government. Our majority is small and popular feeling is against us. Sir Robert Peel is waiting to jump into my shoes.’

‘I will never allow that!’

He shook his head at her.

‘Your Majesty will have no choice. If I go out, he will come in.’

‘And all because of this silly Irish question!’

‘Many consider it of importance.’

‘I would rather lose Ireland than let you go.’

He was touched, but he pretended to treat the matter lightly.

‘It will most certainly give you more trouble than I ever shall, but you will not be asked to make the choice. I have wanted to speak to you on this matter for some time and now seems an appropriate moment. I fear the day will come – and it may be that that day is not so far distant – when I may not be your Prime Minister.’

‘Oh, no!’ She stamped her foot. Anger was the only emotion she dared show. ‘I will
not
have that.’

‘Well, it is not yet happened. I have been talking to Lord John this morning and he feels optimistic. He thinks we’ll scrape through with a small majority.’

‘And you agree with him?’

‘He may be right on this occasion, but I think Your Majesty must bear in mind the weakness of our party. If we get through on Ireland nemesis may overtake us over Canada.’

‘Who cares for Ireland and Canada?’

‘Your Majesty’s Government cares deeply for them.’

She turned away from him. A few discreet tears in the eyes were delightful but now she felt that she would be unable to prevent herself from bursting into noisy sobs.

Lord Melbourne with his exquisite tact seemed to realise this for he said he would take his leave and would of course keep her informed. At some other time he would explain the Canadian situation to her. It might well be that Lord John was right to be optimistic, and they would get through on this occasion, but he had felt for some time that he wanted her to be prepared.

When he had left she went to her bedroom and shut herself in.

If Lord Melbourne were not her Prime Minister how could he call on her every day? She knew that the Opposition which would then be the Government would object. Sir Robert Peel would come in his place! She had met him briefly. A
horrid
man, she thought, as much like her dear Prime Minister as … as Sir John Conroy. She
hated
Sir Robert Peel and would never accept him.

Don’t be ridiculous, she answered herself, if they make him Prime Minister you will
have
to accept him.

Her grief was choking her.

A few days later she received a note from Lord John Russell. It was brief but it sent her into an ecstasy of delight.

The Whigs had come through safely on a majority of nineteen. ‘It was far more than I expected,’ wrote Sir John.

So they were safe.

She ran to Dash and knocked over his basket.

‘Come on, you lazy old Dashy. It’s time for a run in the gardens.’

Dash barked joyfully.

‘They’ve won, Dashy. A majority of nineteen! That’ll show Sir Robert Peel.’

Out in the grounds she raced across the lawns with Dash in pursuit.

‘Not much like the Queen of England,’ commented Lehzen when she came in.

‘It’s a wonderful day,’ said Victoria. ‘The Government had a majority of nineteen.
They
thought they were going to beat
us
. But a majority of nineteen is quite a considerable figure.’

She was laughing. All was well once more.