Jean Plaidy - [Queens of England 03] Page 16

  I was very confident of myself. Only a few more days to go before I reached my eighteenth birthday. It would be too late now for Mama to interfere with me. Her hopes of becoming Regent of England were over. It was time for her to realize I was grown up and would brook no interference.

  I walked out of the room and when I opened the letter I read that the King was offering me ten thousand pounds a year and an establishment of my own—apart from that of my mother.

  My joy was intense. I felt like a person who has been in prison and at last sees freedom ahead.

  BUT OF COURSE I could not escape so easily. Mama and Sir John discovered what was in the letter and together they drew up a draft for me to sign. When I read it I refused to sign for it stated that while I gratefully accepted the ten thousand pounds, I begged to remain as I was because of my youth and inexperience. The draft set out, too, that my income should not be “Mother-free.”

  I said I should like to consult one of the ministers—Lord Melbourne, for instance.

  They went on and on. Mama would not stop telling me all she had done for me. I had misjudged my strength. I had so recently emerged from my captivity. I was still unsure of myself and needed advice. I thought of Uncle Leopold but I knew he would say “Sign”; for it was he who had said I needed to be with my mother for a while yet.

  I thought: If I sign this, it is only for a few days. When I am eighteen, I shall do as I please.

  I signed, to stop my mother’s constant haranguing and to escape from the evil looks of that man.

  As soon as I had left them I repented of what I had done, and I wrote a statement to the King in which I said that the draft was not my own.

  I knew he would understand, and he apparently did.

  At last the great day came. My eighteenth birthday. I was of age.

  While I lay in bed contemplating what this meant, I heard the sound of singing below my window. It was George Rodwell, who was the Musical Director at Covent Garden, and I learned later that he had composed the song he was singing expressly for me on my eighteenth birthday.

  I guessed that Mama had arranged this as a special treat, and instead of gratitude for such thoughtfulness in giving me the sort of pleasure I liked best, a notion came into my head that she was very worried and was trying hard to placate me.

  The King had sent me a grand piano—one of the finest I had ever seen. I rushed to it and began to play while Mama looked on scowling. I knew she would have liked to send it back. But she could not. It was mine—and I was eighteen years old.

  There was to be a grand ball in the evening at St. James’s to celebrate my birthday—another gift from the King and the Queen. How wonderful! Mama must not spoil this. I wanted to tell the King how happy his gift had made me and that I should never forget to be grateful to him every time I played my beautiful piano.

  It seemed that everyone was aware of the importance of the day. A deputation came from the city of London to congratulate me. Mama was at my side when I received it.

  How she irritated me! She would never learn. I had been thinking she must realize now that she could no longer treat me as a child; but when I was about to reply to the deputation and thank them most sincerely for their good wishes and all the trouble they had taken to come to the Palace, Mama pushed me aside and talked to them herself. It was clear to me that I was not yet prepared to show my intentions. She still overawed me as she had when I was a child. So I was silent while she told them that I owed everything to her upbringing, a woman who had been left without a husband, how she had sacrificed herself for me, how she had never failed in her duty.

  They were dismayed and disappointed because they had wanted to speak to me and they did not really like Mama; they did not like her fussy clothes, nor her accent. Why she, who had been so insistent that I should have no trace of a German accent, could not see that they resented hers, I could not imagine.

  I found I was frowning at Mama with cold dislike.

  Later in the day we rode through the streets.

  “We must show ourselves,” said Mama.

  And I wanted to reply, “No, Mama, I must show myself. It does not matter whether you accompany me or not.”

  But there she was, regally inclining her head while the people shouted my name. I smiled at them and waved; and it was heart-warming to see how they loved me.

  But Mama still seemed to think that all the cheers were for her.

  Then it was time to get ready for the ball at St. James’s. As always on these occasions I felt twinges of apprehension wondering what trouble would arise between the King and Mama.

  How I loved a ball! I wanted to dance and dance all night. Nothing else could have given such a happy finale to a great occasion. And Mama would spoil it all—if she possibly could.

  But she did not that time, which was due to no lack of venom on her part. It just turned out that neither the King nor the Queen were able to attend.

  It was a wonderful ball. Dancing, I forgot all the irritations and fears of the past year. I opened the ball with the Duke of Norfolk’s grandson who was an excellent dancer and executed his steps with perfection. I felt as though I were dancing on air.

  And that was just a beginning.

  I danced all the time and I was so happy as we rode home through the streets and there were still people out to cheer me.

  Eighteen years old! The milestone passed!

  How exuberantly I wrote in my journal next day about the crowd in the streets who had stood about just to see me ride by.

  “I was very much amused,” I wrote.

  I STAYED IN my sitting room. I hardly spoke to Mama; and when she came to bed at night I pretended to be asleep.

  She and Sir John were very apprehensive.

  Mama wrote notes to me. I think she believed she could impress me more by writing than by speaking because when she spoke she became so angry. There were tirades of wrath, to which I appeared to shut my ears. I would sit stolidly while she raved, and then make an excuse to go.

  She and Sir John must have felt me slipping out of their grasp and that was very worrying to them both—particularly perhaps to Sir John. Mama would always be mother of the Queen and have some standing because of that, even though she did fail in her grandiose schemes for becoming Regent, whereas Sir John was in danger of losing his career.

  “You are still very young,” wrote Mama, “and all your success so far has been due to your mother’s reputation…”

  No, Mama, I thought. If I have had any success that has been mine in spite of my mother.

  “Do not be too sanguine about your own talents and understanding …”

  No, Mama, I am not. I am just determined not to be the puppet of you and your friend, Sir John…

  We were now well into June and the news from Windsor was grave. The King was very weak.

  On that never-to-be-forgotten Tuesday morning of the twentieth of June in the year 1837 I was awakened from my sleep to find Mama standing beside my bed.

  “Wake up, Victoria,” she said, “the Archbishop of Canterbury and Lord Conyngham are here with the King’s physician. They are waiting to see you.”

  “Why, Mama? What time is it?”

  “Six o’clock,” she said. “But never mind the time. They are waiting to see you.”

  I knew what this meant and an awesome feeling swept over me.

  I rose and put on my dressing gown and slippers.

  “Come,” said Mama, and she led me into the sitting room.

  At the door, I paused and looked at her.

  “I shall go in alone, Mama,” I said.

  She stared at me.

  But I knew then what position I held. I could feel the crown on my head. I had no need to do what she told me now.

  “Alone,” I repeated firmly.

  She looked stunned, but she did not attempt to detain me.

  The three men knelt down as I approached, and I knew what that meant. I held out my hand for them to kiss as naturally as though I
had rehearsed it.

  They called me Your Majesty and I felt a great surge of emotion. There were tears in my eyes and in theirs. I suppose I looked so young and defenseless with my hair streaming down my back and wearing only my dressing gown and slippers.

  The Archbishop told me that the King had died happy and had directed his mind to religion and was prepared for his death.

  I turned to Lord Conyngham and asked after the Queen for I knew how she loved him.

  I said, “Please take my condolences to the Queen.”

  Lord Conyngham replied, “I will do as Your Majesty commands without delay.”

  Then I left them and went into my bedroom to dress.

  I was eighteen years old. I was a queen. Oddly enough the first thought that occurred to me was: Now I can be alone.

  The Crowned Queen

  I PUT ON A BLACK DRESS AND WENT DOWN TO BREAKFAST. Everything was different. Now I was a queen. There was one thought that kept hammering in my brain. I must be good. I must be wise. I must do my duty. I must put aside all frivolous desire for pleasure. I must serve my country.

  There was Uncle Leopold to tell me what to do as he had been telling me all my life; but of course he was the king of another country and it was not really suitable for the King of the Belgians to have a hand in the ruling of England. I knew that in future I was going to have to be wary, even of Uncle Leopold, for as a good king—and I was sure he was that— he would have to put the interests of his country first.

  Yes, I had to walk very carefully.

  While I was breakfasting Baron Stockmar came down to talk to me. He was wise but of course he was Uncle Leopold’s man. Everything had changed since I had become Queen.

  I talked to him about Uncle William and my pity for Queen Adelaide, for I understood how deep her grief must be.

  I left him after breakfast and went to my sitting room to write letters—one to Uncle Leopold, another to Feodore.

  How strange it was to sign oneself Victoria R.

  While I was writing, a letter arrived from the Prime Minister in which he said he would wait on me before nine o’clock.

  I was very pleased that Lord Melbourne was Prime Minister. I had met him once or twice and been most impressed by his handsome appearance, his courtly manners and his amusing way of talking.

  Lehzen was with me when the letter came and I said to her, “I shall see him quite alone as I intend to see all my ministers in future.”

  Lehzen nodded. She understood. But she was a little uneasy, fearful that the crown was going to change me.

  “It will change me,” I told her. “But nothing will ever change my love for you, dear Lehzen. You will find the Queen can be as affectionate as the Princess ever was.”

  At which we wept, and she told me that I was the meaning of life to her, which was very affecting.

  Lord Melbourne came as arranged. What a charming man! He bowed and kissed my hand and his beautiful blue-gray eyes filled with tears as he surveyed me which made me feel very warm toward him. I knew he was thinking of my youth and all the burdens that would descend on my shoulders.

  He was most respectful and made me feel quite at ease, for although I knew he was so affected by my youth, at the same time he conveyed his faith in my ability to perform the tasks that lay ahead of me.

  “Lord Melbourne,” I said, “it has long been my intention to retain your ministry at the head of affairs.”

  “I am overwhelmed with gratitude, Ma’am,” he replied.

  “I know it could not be in better hands.”

  “Your Majesty is gracious.” He went on, “It is my duty to bring you the Declaration that Your Majesty will read to the Council. Would you just glance through it and see if it has your approval?”

  “You wrote it, Lord Melbourne?”

  “I confess to the deed,” he said with a slight lifting of his lips, which I thought rather amusing and which made me smile.

  “I am sure it is just as it should be,” I said.

  “I must leave Your Majesty to consider it. The Council meeting, which can be held here in the Palace, should take place at eleven-thirty. I will call again about eleven in case there is anything with which you do not agree. I must not encroach upon Your Majesty’s time now. You will want to study the Declaration. It will be my great pleasure to call again in case Your Majesty wishes to make use of me.”

  “You are very kind, Lord Melbourne.”

  He replied, “Your Majesty is too gracious to your humble servant.” And he said it in an ironical way, which I thought so amusing. I knew that my meetings with my Prime Minister were not going to be the dreary sessions one might expect. They would be light-hearted, even though we were carrying out the most serious business.

  I knew from the first day that I was lucky to have Lord Melbourne for my Prime Minister—a good, honest, clever man, who was at the same time such an attractive one.

  When he had gone I read through the Declaration and composed my thoughts. It was very important that I behave with the right degree of dignity and modesty before the Council.

  I thought Lord Melbourne’s Declaration beautifully worded and as he would be present I should draw a certain confidence from him. The way in which he had looked at me gave me belief in myself. He was a very feeling man. I had seen in his eyes that he was very much aware of my youth and felt protective toward me, and yet at the same time he would never forget for one instant that I was the Queen. That was a very comforting thought. Once again I rejoiced that he was the Prime Minister. It might so easily have been someone else—the Duke of Wellington or Sir Robert Peel—very honorable men, of course, but without the charm of Lord Melbourne; and a queen did rely so much on her prime minister.

  He came again at eleven and asked me if there was anything I wished to say to him before the Council meeting began.

  “I hope I shall not disappoint them,” I said, for I felt I could talk like that with Lord Melbourne.

  “Disappoint them, Ma’am! Why, you will enchant them. I’ll tell you something. A queen is more appealing than a king. And a beautiful, young queen…well, none could be so effective. Have no qualms. Your youth…your sex… they are an advantage.”

  “Do you really think so?”

  “I do indeed.”

  “But perhaps they are not all like you, Lord Melbourne.”

  “I trust not, Your Majesty. I should not like to be among the common herd.”

  That made me laugh and I felt considerably relaxed. He had made me feel that it was not such an ordeal after all.

  “I was just wondering how I should be before them all.”

  “Be yourself, Ma’am. No one else could be more delightful.”

  Oh, what a comfort he was! I should be thinking of him all the time I was facing them.

  The Council was held in the Red Salon at Kensington Palace.

  Mama would have loved to accompany me but she was beginning to understand that everything had changed since this morning.

  I went in alone. At the door of the Salon my two uncles, Cumberland and Sussex, were waiting with Lord Melbourne. Cumberland looked as repulsive as ever. What a contrast to handsome Lord Melbourne, who gave me such an enchanting smile, with a twinkle in his eyes—while he showed the utmost respect—as though there were a conspiracy between us.

  I was led to the seat and sat down. I remained seated while I read the Declaration, I am glad to say without faltering.

  A good deal of formality followed. There were a great many Privy Counselors who had to be sworn in. I received the homage of my uncles and my hand was kissed and allegiance sworn by important men like Lord Palmerston, Wellington, and Sir Robert Peel.

  I was not nervous and I sensed that all—except Lord Melbourne— were surprised at my confident manner. I think they had been expecting a nervous young girl.

  I went back to my room where there were audiences with Lord Melbourne, Lord John Russell, Lord Albemarle, who was my Master of Horse, and the Archbishop of Canterbury.
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br />   Then the ordeal was over.

  Lord Melbourne whispered to me, “You were superb. A queen … every inch.”

  What a charming way he had of expressing himself !

  I wanted to tell him that what might have been an ordeal had been an invigorating experience, and it was due to him and the confidence he had inspired in me.

  I felt excited at the prospects of more meetings with him. The country is in very good hands, I thought.

  I spent several hours writing letters. I must convey my condolences to Queen Adelaide, who had always been so kind to me. Dear Aunt! How lost and lonely she must be feeling now. She would be thinking of me too—no doubt remembering incidents from my childhood. When she had given me the Big Doll would be one of the pleasantest of memories. There would be many—all due to Mama—that would be less so.

  That reminded me.

  When Lehzen came in, I said to her, “Lehzen, my bed is to be removed from my mother’s room. In future I shall sleep alone.”

  “I shall give orders that it is to be done at once,” said Lehzen.

  I thought a great deal about Lehzen. She would have a position in the household now.

  She came back to me and told me that the bed had been taken away from my mother’s room. “The Duchess is most upset,” she added.

  “Alas,” I replied, “I fear this will not be the only thing that upsets her.” Lehzen shook her head.

  I said, “Lehzen, what is your position going to be?”

  “I pray to God it will be as it ever was.”

  “Lehzen, I don’t need a governess any more.”

  She looked alarmed, and I threw my arms around her. “But I shall always need you,” I went on.

  She wept a little. Dear Lehzen! Her greatest fear in life was that she should be separated from me.

  She said, “I think it would be better, my dearest, if I took no position but just remained beside you… always… the one who loves you… and none could love you more.”

  “Dear, dear Lehzen, you will always be my friend. You shall have the title of Lady Attendant upon the Queen. What do you think of that?”

  “Is there such a post?”