Queen Victoria. Story of Her Life and Reign. UnknownЧитать онлайн книгу.
authority as Mrs Oliphant that the immediate circle of friends around her fed her with no flatteries. The life of the Queen at Windsor has been thus described: 'She rose at a little after eight; breakfasted in her private rooms; then her ministers were admitted; despatches were read, and there would be a consultation with Lord Melbourne. After luncheon she rode out, and on her return amused herself with music and singing and such like recreations till dinner, which was about 8 P.M. On the appearance of the ladies in the drawing-room she stood, moving about from one to the other, talking for a short time to each, and also speaking to the gentlemen as they came from the dining-room. A whist table would be made up for the Duchess of Kent. The Queen and the others seated themselves about a large round table and engaged in conversation.'
'Poor little Queen!' said Carlyle, with a shake of his head at the time, 'she is at an age when a girl can hardly be trusted to choose a bonnet for herself, yet a task is laid upon her from which an archangel might shrink.' Her Majesty was not overawed, however, and expressly declared to her mother that she ascended the throne without alarm. 'She is as merry and playful as a kitten,' wrote Sir John Campbell…. 'She was in great spirits, and danced with more than usual gaiety a romping, country-dance called the Tempest.' An observant writer of this date says: 'She had a fine vein of humour, a keen sense of the ludicrous; enjoyed equestrian exercise, and rode remarkably well.'
N. P. Willis, the American poet, who saw her on horseback in Hyde Park, said: 'Her Majesty rides quite fearlessly and securely; I met her party full gallop near the centre of the Rotten Row. On came the Queen on a dun-coloured, highly groomed horse, with her prime-minister on one side of her, and Lord Byron on the other; her cortége of maids of honour, and lords and ladies of the court checking their spirited horses, and preserving always a slight distance between themselves and Her Majesty. … Victoria's round, plump figure looks exceedingly well in her dark-green riding dress…. She rode with her mouth open, and seemed exhilarated with pleasure.' James Gordon Bennett, who saw her at the opera, describes her as 'a fair-haired little girl, dressed with great simplicity in white muslin, with hair plain, a blue ribbon at the back…. Her bust is extremely well proportioned, and her complexion very fair. There is a slight parting of her rosy lips, between which you can see little nicks of something like very white teeth. The expression of her face is amiable and good-tempered. I could see nothing like that awful majesty, that mysterious something which doth hedge a queen.'
Mr Greville, who dined at the Queen's table in Buckingham Palace in 1837, pronounced the whole thing dull, so dull that he marvelled how any one could like such a life: but both here and at a ball he declared the bearing of the Queen to be perfect, noting also that her complexion was clear, and that the expression of her eyes was agreeable.
Despite her strong attraction to her cousin Albert, she expressed a determination not to think of marriage for a time. The sudden change from her quiet, girlish life in Kensington to the prominence and the powers of a great queen, standing 'in that fierce light which beats upon a throne,' might well have excused a good deal of wilfulness had the excuse been needed.
Her Majesty decides that 'a worse school for a young girl, or one more detrimental to all natural feelings and affections, cannot well be imagined.' Perhaps it was an experience which she needed to convince her fully of the value and blessedness of the true domesticity which was soon to be hers. After she had in 1837 placed her life-interest in the hereditary revenues of the crown at the disposal of the House of Commons, her yearly income was fixed at £385,000. This income is allocated as follows: For Her Majesty's privy purse, £60,000; salaries of Her Majesty's household and retired allowances, £131,260; expenses of household, £172,500; royal bounty, alms, &c., £13,200; unappropriated moneys, £8040.
The first change from a Whig to a Conservative government ruffled the waters a little. Her Majesty was advised by the Duke of Wellington to invite Sir Robert Peel to form a new ministry. She did so, but frankly told Peel that she was very sorry to lose Lord Melbourne. When arranging his cabinet, Sir Robert found that objections were raised to the retention of certain Whig ladies in personal attendance upon the Queen, as being very likely to influence her. The Duchess of Sutherland and Lady Normanby, it is believed, were particularly meant. The Queen at first flatly refused to dismiss her Ladies of the Bedchamber, to whom she had got so accustomed. As Sir Robert Peel would not yield the point, she recalled Lord Melbourne, who now retained office till 1841. The affair caused a great deal of talk in political and non-political circles. The Queen wrote: 'They wanted to deprive me of my ladies, and I suppose they would deprive me next of my dresses and my housemaids; but I will show them that I am Queen of England.' This little episode has since gone by the name of the 'Bedchamber Plot.'
Of Her Majesty it may safely be said that she has always been a genuine ruler, in the sense that from the first she trained herself to comprehend the mysteries of statecraft. She had Lord Melbourne as her first prime-minister, and from the beginning every despatch of the Foreign Office was offered to her attention. In 1848, a year of exceptional activity, these numbered 28,000.
If for a while the Queen thus drew back from actually deciding to marry the cousin whom, nevertheless, she owned to be 'fascinating,' that cousin on his side was not one of those of whom it may be said:
He either fears his fate too much,
Or his deserts are small,
That dares not put it to the touch,
To gain or lose it all.
'I am ready,' he said, 'to submit to delay, if I have only some certain assurance to go upon. But if, after waiting perhaps for three years, I should find that the Queen no longer desired the marriage, it would place me in a ridiculous position, and would, to a certain extent, ruin all my prospects for the future.'
Love proved stronger than girlish pride and independence—the woman was greater than the queen. The young pair met again on the 10th October 1839, and on the 14th of the same month the Queen communicated the welcome news of her approaching marriage to her prime-minister. Her best friends were all delighted with the news.
'You will be very nervous on declaring your engagement to the Council,' said the Duchess of Gloucester.
'Yes,' replied the Queen, 'but I did something far more trying to my nerves a short time since.'
'What was that?' the duchess asked.
'I proposed to Albert,' was the reply.
Etiquette of course forbade the gentleman in this case to speak first; and we can well believe that the Queen was more nervous over this matter than over many a state occasion. How the thing took place we may gather in part from a letter of Prince Albert to his grandmother: 'The Queen sent for me to her room, and disclosed to me, in a genuine outburst of love and affection, that I had gained her whole heart.' After the glad announcement was made, warm congratulations were showered on the young people. Lord Melbourne expressed great satisfaction on behalf of himself and his country. 'You will be much more comfortable,' he said, 'for a woman cannot stand alone for any time in whatever position she may be.' To King Leopold, who had much to do with the matter, the news was particularly welcome. In his joyous response to the Queen occur these words: 'I had, when I learned your decision, almost the feeling of old Simeon, "Now lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace." Your choice has been, for these last years, my conviction of what might and would be the best for your happiness…. In your position, which may, and will perhaps, become in future even more difficult in a political point of view, you could not exist without having a happy and agreeable intérieur. And I am much deceived (which I think I am not) or you will find in Albert just the very qualities and disposition which are indispensable for your happiness, and will suit your own character, temper, and mode of life.'
To Baron Stockmar, the prince wrote: 'Victoria is so good and kind to me, that I am often puzzled to believe that I should be the object of so much affection.' Prince Albert knew he was choosing a position of no ordinary difficulty and responsibility. 'With the exception of my relation to the Queen, my future position will have its dark sides, and the sky will not always be blue and unclouded. But life has its thorns in every position, and the consciousness of having used one's powers and endeavours for an object so great as that of promoting the welfare of so many, will surely be sufficient to support me.'
True love is always humble. Among the