‘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.
Trouble came from another direction.
Lord Melbourne, during the course of some of their interesting and amusing conversations, had told the Queen that the Dutch, the French and the Belgians were being somewhat tiresome over Luxembourg. The Dutch and the Belgians desired possession of this Province and the French who had signed a Treaty with Belgium were supporting that country’s claims against those of Holland.
‘I am sure Uncle Leopold will take the right action,’ Victoria had said.
But now came a disturbing letter from her royal Uncle. He wanted the support of England for Belgium in this matter, and he was appealing, not through her ambassador to her Foreign Minister, but to her as his niece.‘You have given me so many proofs of affection … that it would be very wrong in me to think that in so short a time and without any cause, those feelings which are so precious to me could have changed. This makes me appeal to these sentiments.’
She frowned. Of course she loved her Uncle and would never forget that he had been a second father to her, but this was not a matter for tenderness or sentiment. She was experienced enough to know that matters which concern the welfare of the country were not to be settled because of her private family feelings. He went on:‘The independent existence of the Provinces which form this Kingdom has always been an object of importance to England … The last time I saw the late King at Windsor, in 1836, he said to me: “If ever France or any other Power invades your country it will be a question of immediate war for England; we cannot suffer that …” All I want from your kind Majesty is, that you will occasionally express to your Ministers, and particularly to good Lord Melbourne, that as far as is compatible with the interests of your own dominions you do not wish that your Government should take the lead in such measures as might in a short time bring on the destruction of this country as well as that of your Uncle and his family …’
She was very disturbed. He was asking her to advise her Government on a matter of which she was well aware that she knew very little. One of her great qualities, Lord Melbourne had told her, was her awareness of her inexperience and her ability to listen and take advice. She wanted very much to please Uncle Leopold and it would have been easy to write and say: ‘Yes, I will speak to Lord Melbourne and I will tell him that I wish him to do as you say,’ but that would be unwise.
When Lord Melbourne called that day he knew at once that she was disturbed.
‘I think I cannot do better,’ she said, ‘than to show you letter I have received from my Uncle, the King of the Belgians.’
Lord Melbourne took the letter and when he read it, his expression became a little grave.
‘How wise of you,’ he said, ‘to show me this letter before answering it. Indeed, it is what I have come to expect of Your Majesty. You quite rightly assume that this is a matter for Lord Palmerston and your Government and I will take the matter up immediately with your Foreign Secretary.’
She sighed with relief, but she was apprehensive.
‘You see,’ she explained, ‘he was so good to me when I was young, and you know how insecure I always felt at Kensington.’
‘It was most unfortunate,’ replied Lord Melbourne tenderly. ‘How much better it would have been had that Uncle the late King William and his Queen Adelaide been able to show you something of Court ways before you ascended the throne.’
‘I was always very much aware of it.’
‘This insecurity made you turn to your Uncle Leopold, of course, and it was, at the time, a very satisfactory relationship, but nothing remains static. Tempora mutantur, nos et mutamur in illis. The times are changed and we with them.’ Lord Melbourne always thoughtfully translated his Greek and Latin to her to save her the embarrassment of asking if she did not happen to know. ‘Now of course the King of the Belgians is still a dear relation and Your Majesty’s loyalty and fidelity are strong, but we have to see him as two in one – the charming relation and the head of a foreign power.’
‘How right you are … as always.’
‘So,’ went on Lord Melbourne, ‘Cupid and I will put our heads together over this.’
The reference to the Foreign Secretary’s nickname was an indication that the matter was no longer very serious and lightness returned to the conversation.
As she had spoken of her childhood Lord Melbourne talked of his days at Eton and described how on one occasion he had eaten too many sweet cakes and come out in spots because of this indulgence.
‘I fear you were very greedy,’ said the Queen severely.
‘Those spots cured me of greed in that direction.’
Then he told her how he had his hair cut and picturing him in his Eton uniform she thought he must have looked very handsome indeed. Thus she was able to shelve the unpleasant matter of Uncle Leopold.
Lord Melbourne again referred to the Belgian affair but characteristically threw it in lightly. She had been asking him how her Court compared with those of her predecessors and Lord Melbourne had launched into one of his amusing accounts of the past. He told her how her Uncle William had once gone to the Royal Academy and threatened to throw the President into the street because he said the picture of a certain sea-going gentleman was good, and William did not admire the gentleman.