Queen Victoria (6 page)

… The Princess is much better looking than any picture of her in the shops, and for the heir to such a crown as that of England, unnecessarily pretty and interesting. She will be sold, poor thing! bartered away by those dealers in Royal hearts, whose grand calculations will not be much consolation to her if she happens to have a taste of her own.” The American did not turn out a true prophet.

On the 30th of July, 1835, the Princess having completed her sixteenth year, the ceremony of Confirmation was performed at the Chapel Royal, St. James’s, by the Archbishop of Canterbury, assisted by the Bishop of London, in the presence of the King and Queen and several members of the Royal Family. The scene is described as very touching, and the Princess, after the address of the Archbishop, was profoundly affected. On the following Sunday, Divine Service was performed in the Chapel at Kensington Palace, and then the Princess, accompanied by her mother, received for the first time the Holy Sacrament from the hands of the Archbishop of Canterbury and the Dean of Chester, her preceptor. Soon after this a visit of a month was paid to Avoyne House, Tunbridge Wells, where, as also later in the year at Ramsgate, the Princess took much interest in the schools and the children educated in them. In September of this year another lengthy tour was made by Hatfield, Stamford, Grantham, Newark and Doncaster, to York, where their Royal Highnesses were for a week the guests of the Archbishop, Dr. Harcourt, at Bishopsthorpe, whence many visits were paid to the Minster. Leaving the Palace, a stay of three days was made with Lord Harewood, when the journey was continued by Leeds, Wakefield and Barnsley, to Wentworth House, the seat of Lord Fitz-William. Here it was noticed that in the servants’ hall the old style was retained and trenchers were still used. Rotherham and Newark were passed on the way to Belvoir Castle, where the Royal Party were entertained by the Duke of Rutland for some days. From Belvoir they passed to Burghley; here they remained for two nights, on the second of which a grand ball was given in their honour by their host, the Marquess of Exeter. Greville in his Memoirs says of it: “Three hundred people at the ball, which was opened by Lord Exeter and the Princess, who, after dancing one dance, went to bed.” They started early next morning by way of Peterborough, Thorney, Wisbeach and King’s Lynn, to Holkham, where they were the guests of the Earl of Leicester. Lord Albemarle, who was there to meet them, mentions that they were late for dinner in consequence of the enthusiastic loyalty of the people at Lynn, who insisted on drawing the carriage through the town. He also notes of the Royal visitors, ‘Both were affable. The youthful Princess in particular showed in her demeanour that winning courtesy with which millions of her subjects have since become familiar.” Euston Hall, the seat of the Duke of Grafton, was the next house where a stay was made, from which the homeward journey was made without further interruption. Later, as has been mentioned, Ramsgate was visited, and a stay of a month there enabled the Princess to see Walmer Castle and Dover.

The event of most importance in the following year vras the arrival at Kensington Palace, on a visit of some weeks, of the Duke of Coburg with his two sons Ernest and Albert. Then, for the first time, the Queen saw her future husband. The visit was brought about by the agency of King Leopold, who in this carried out the long-cherished idea of his mother, the Dowager Duchess of Coburg, who had early set her heart on the union of her two grandchildren. They were received with every attention by the King and Queen, and the other members of the Royal family, and spent a busy time in seeing all they could in London and the neighbourhood. They were much impressed by the sight of the great anniversary gathering of the children of the charity schools in Saint Paul’s, after which they enjoyed the hospitality of the Lord Mayor at the Mansion House. Of this visit Prince Albert writes on the 1st of June, 1836, “My first appearance was at a
levee
of the King’s, which was long and fatiguing but very interesting. The same evening we dined at Court, and at night there was a beautiful concert, at which we had to stand till two o’clock. The next day the King’s birthday was kept. We went in the middle of the day to a drawing-room at St. James’s Palace, at which about 3,800 people passed before the King and Queen and the other high dignitaries to offer their congratulations. There was again a great dinner in the evening and then a concert which lasted till one o’clock. You can well imagine that I had many hard battles to fight against sleepiness during these late entertainments. The day before yesterday, Monday, our Aunt gave a brilliant ball here at Kensington Palace, at which the gentlemen appeared in uniform and the ladies in so-called fancy dresses. We remained till four o’clock. Duke William of Brunswick, the Prince of Orange and his two sons, and the Duke of Wellington, were the only guests that you will care to hear about. Yesterday we spent with the Duke of Northumberland at Sion, and now we are going to Claremont. From this account you will see how constantly engaged we are, and that we must make the most of our time to see at least some of the sights in London. Dear Aunt is very kind to us, and does everything she can to please us, and our Cousin also is very amiable.” Almost simultaneously with the departure of the Prince from England, King Leopold spoke to his niece on the subject of his wishes, and in writing to him on the 7th of June the Princess concludes her letter by saying, “I have now only to beg you, my dearest Uncle, to take care of the health of one now so dear to me, and to take him under your special protection. I hope and trust that all will go on prosperously and well on this subject now of so much importance to me.”

The autumn of this year, after a visit to Lord Liverpool at Buxted Park, near Uckfield, was spent quietly at Ramsgate.

On the 24th of May, 1837, the Princess attained her majority: she was wakened by a serenade, and later received a number of costly presents, including a grand piano from the King, who earnestly wished to see his niece of age before his death. The day was kept as a general holiday at Kensington, there were addresses of congratulation from many public bodies, among them one from the Corporation of London, to which the Duchess of Kent replied, “… The Princess has arrived at that age, which now justifies my expressing my confident expectation, that she will be found competent to execute the sacred trust which may be reposed in her; for communicating as she does with all classes of society, she cannot but perceive that the greater the diffusion of religious knowledge and the love of freedom in a country, the more orderly, industrious and wealthy is its population; and that with the desire to preserve the constitutional prerogatives of the Crown ought to be co-ordinate the protection of the liberty of the people.” To the address presented to herself the Princess simply replied, “I am very thankful for your kindness, and my mother has expressed all my feelings.” On the evening of this day a state ball was given at St. James’s, at which neither the King nor Queen were able to be present, both being very ill. The Princess opened the ball with Lord Fitzalan, the eldest son of the Duke of Norfolk, and danced also with Prince Esterhazy. Before her next appearance at St. James’s the Princess had succeeded to the throne.

Many portraits were painted, during her early years, of the Princess upon whom the hopes of the nation were fixed. One of the earliest is given at the head of this chapter; it is from a miniature painted by Anthony Stewart, who had come from Scotland to London, where he painted a miniature of Princess Charlotte, which brought him to the notice of Prince Leopold. He was one of the first to paint a miniature of the Princess, who afterwards sat to him repeatedly, and the engravings from these very delicate works were exceedingly popular. Shortly afterwards the Duchess of Kent sat with her daughter to Sir William Beechey, whose portraits of the Royal Family are well known; in this picture, of which a reproduction is given, the infant Princess stands on the sofa where her mother is sitting, and holds in her hand a miniature of her father. This picture was painted specially for Prince Leopold. Another charming portrait of the Princess is that by Westall, in which she is represented as sketching from nature. Westall, as has been mentioned before, was drawing-master to the Princess; he died in 1836, so that this picture is probably one of his latest works. In 1833 it has been noted above that the Princess sat for her portrait to Wilkin and to Hayter. Of the work of the latter a reproduction is given. The Princess stands at a table holding a rose in her right hand, and from her left hangs a light scarf; the glove from her right hand is the plaything of her favourite dog; in the background is seen the newly-raised Round Tower of Windsor Castle. The portrait by Wilkin taken at the same time only exists in a somewhat rare lithograph; in it the hair is plaited on the crown in the same manner as in Hayter’s picture. Of other early portraits mention may be made of a bust by Behnes, taken when the Princess was very young. It is now in the corridor at Windsor Castle, and is widely known by an engraving which had extensive circulation at the time, but gives a most distorted view of the excellent original. The portrait of the Duchess of Kent introduced in this chapter is taken from a miniature painting by Collen, after a picture painted in 1835 by Sir George Hayter; in it may be traced the great likeness borne by the Duchess to her brother King Leopold, and also to her mother.

The demise of the Crown by the death of King William IV had been expected for some time. On Tuesday, the 20th of June, 1837, at twelve minutes past two, His Majesty expired. The Archbishop of Canterbury, who had performed the last religious rites, and Lord Conyngham, Lord Chamberlain, who was also in attendance, started as soon as was possible from Windsor, to convey the news to Kensington. They arrived at five in the morning, and with some difficulty aroused the sleeping household. Alter much delay, an attendant stated that the Princess was in such a sweet sleep that she could not be disturbed; to which the messengers replied, “We have come on business of State to the Queen, and even her sleep must give way to that.” In a few minutes she came into the room, a shawl thrown over her dressing-gown, her feet in slippers, and her hair falling down her back. She had been wakened by the Duchess of Kent, who told Her Majesty she must get up; she went alone into the room where Lord Conyngham and the Archbishop were waiting. The Lord Chamberlain then knelt down, and presented a paper announcing the death of her uncle to the Queen; and the Archbishop said he had come by desire of Queen Adelaide, who thought the Queen would like to hear in what a peaceful state the King had been at the last. Meanwhile, at the Council Office, to which the news of the late King’s death had been conveyed by special messenger from Windsor, summonses were issued with all possible haste to the Privy Counsellors to attend at Kensington, to present a loyal address of fealty, and to offer homage. This address, which had been kept in readiness, was conveyed at once to the Palace by Mr. Barrett Lennard, chief clerk of the Council Office, whose son, acting as his private secretary, has communicated an account of the ceremony, of which he is now, besides Her Majesty, the only survivor. In the antechamber to which they were introduced, six persons at most were present, amongst whom were the Duke of Sussex and the Duke of Wellington, with Lord Melbourne, who had previously been received in audience alone at 9 a.m.

Subsequently about a dozen ministers, prelates, and officials, were admitted, when the doors were closed. The address was read aloud and signed by the Duke of Sussex and then by the others present, after which the doors were opened, “disclosing a large State Saloon, close to whose threshold there stood unattended a small, slight, fair-complexioned young lady apparently fifteen years of age. She was attired in a close-fitting dress of black silk, her light hair parted and drawn from her forehead; she wore no ornament whatever on her dress or person. The Duke of Sussex advanced, embraced, and kissed her - his niece, the Queen. Lord Melbourne and others kissed hands in the usual form, and the Usher taking the address, closed the folding doors, and the Queen disappeared from our gaze. No word was uttered by Her Majesty or by any present, and no sound broke the silence, which seemed to me to add to the impressive solemnity and interest of the scene.” The subsequent meeting of the Queen’s first Council has been described by many of those who were privileged to attend it; and a fairly accurate picture of it has been painted by Sir David Wilkie, who, at the expense of truth, has emphasized the principal figure by painting her in a white dress instead of the black which was actually worn, the Queen being already in mourning for the death of the mother of Queen Adelaide. The Council met at eleven o’clock, and at that hour the Queen, who had been accompanied to the adjoining room by her mother, was met by her uncles, the Dukes of Cumberland and Sussex, who introduced her to the Council Chamber, where she took her seat on a chair at the head of the table. No better description of the scene can be given than that, often quoted, by Greville, clerk of the Council: “Never was anything like the first impression she produced, or the chorus of praise and admiration which is raised about her manner and behaviour, and certainly not without justice. It was very extraordinary, and something far beyond what was looked for. Her extreme youth and inexperience, and the ignorance of the world concerning her, naturally excited intense curiosity to see how she would act on this trying occasion, and there was a considerable assemblage at the Palace, notwithstanding the short notice which was given… She bowed to the Lords, took her seat, and then read her speech in a clear, distinct, and audible voice, and without any appearance of fear or embarrassment. She was quite plainly dressed and in mourning.

“After she had read her speech, and taken and signed the oath for the security of the Church of Scotland, the Privy Counsellors were sworn, the two Royal Dukes (of Cumberland and Sussex) first, by themselves; and as these two old men, her uncles, knelt before her, swearing allegiance and kissing her hand, I saw her blush up to the eyes, as if she felt the contrast between their civil and their natural relations, and this was the only sign of emotion which she evinced. Her manner to them was very graceful and engaging: she kissed them both, and rose from her chair and moved towards the Duke of Sussex, who was farthest from her and too infirm to reach her. She seemed rather bewildered at the multitude of men who were sworn, and who came one after another to kiss her hand, but she did not speak to anybody, nor did she make the slightest difference in her manner, or show any in her countenance, to any individual of any rank, station, or party. I particularly watched her when Melbourne and the Ministers and the Duke of Wellington and Peel approached her. She went through the whole ceremony - occasionally looking at Melbourne for instruction when she had any doubt what to do, which hardly ever occurred - with perfect calmness and self-possession, but at the same time with a graceful modesty and propriety particularly interesting and ingratiating. When the business was done she retired as she had entered… Peel said how amazed he was at her manner and behaviour, at her apparent deep sense of her situation, her modesty, and at the same time her firmness. She appeared, in fact, to be awed, but not daunted, and afterwards the Duke of Wellington told me the same thing, and added that if she had been his own daughter he could not have desired to see her perform her part better.” This description from the pen of one not given to flattery, is corroborated by the testimony of many others present. Earl Grey writes to the Princess Lieven: - “When called upon for the first time to appear before the Privy Council, and to take upon herself the awful duties with which at so early an age she has been so suddenly charged, there was in her appearance and demeanour a composure, a propriety, an
aplomb
, which were quite extraordinary. She never was in the least degree confused, embarrassed, or hurried; read the declaration beautifully; went through the forms of business as if she had been accustomed to them all her life.” Lord Palmerston says in a letter to Lord Granville, “The Queen went through her task with great dignity and self-possession; one saw she felt much inward emotion, but it was fully controlled. Her articulation was particularly good, her voice remarkably pleasing.”