“I’m a very knowing Prig.” By Sir James Clark.
“The King of the Cannibal Islands.” By King Leopold.
I do not know the reason for Lord Morpeth singing of a beautiful boy, but Sir James Clark seems to have justified by some of his actions the song chosen for him.
Though Victoria had been Queen for nearly two years, she still—to judge from various accounts—preferred simplicity in dress, and one story is admiringly told of her which, to an unbiassed mind, is open to the suggestion that she did not show politeness or good taste. The Duchess of Sutherland gave a great ball at Stafford House in honour of the Queen, and, that she might further show the respect she felt for her Royal mistress, she wore a most magnificent dress and glittered with diamonds. Her Majesty went “in a simple muslin embroidered in colours,” and, on shaking hands with her hostess, said:
“I come from my house to your palace.” This sounds too affected or too rude to be true, but it is given by Lady Dorothy Nevill in “Under Five Reigns.”
Victoria’s simplicity seems occasionally to have degenerated into carelessness, for I have come across different remarks upon the way in which she wore her shoes down at heel—remarks always accompanied with a suggestion that there was something wrong with her feet, though that was tempered with the addition that she walked gracefully.
When Lord Durham set England a-talking by his autocratic actions in Canada, and was, through the demands of the Opposition, recalled, the Duchess of Kent must have felt grief at this second failure in the little circle of her close friends. If all that has been said was true, she relied very largely upon the advice of Lord Durham before he became Ambassador to St. Petersburg, for she was then in the habit of trusting implicitly in her brother. I have seen a report of a speech made by a Mr. Wilks, the Liberal Member for Boston in 1836, part of which ran: “Never was there a more excellent and amiable being than the Duchess of Kent. She consulted Lord Durham (he was the great man of the neighbourhood), by Leopold’s desire, upon everything that belonged to the political opinions of the Duchess and the Princess. He was asked to prepare replies and to acknowledge communications, and everything breathed a spirit of attachment on their part to the constitutional rights of the people.” As Lord Durham was looked upon as the leader of the Radical party, it is hardly to be wondered at that the Tories disliked him and thought him a dangerous influence.
Lady Durham had been made one of the Ladies of the Bedchamber at the accession of Victoria, drawing from the Princess Lieven the opinion that the Queen could not have a better or a nobler woman; but when her husband came back from Canada the Countess resigned her post, much to the Queen’s sorrow, for she, too, was fond of the Durhams. Early in her reign she had given Lady Durham apartments at Windsor in which she could reside permanently, and when she was in waiting invited her always to bring her little girl, “the most charming child,” to remain with her. Durham died in 1840, while still a young man.
Victoria was very fond of children, and would always, if possible, have some staying at the Palace, spending a part of each day playing with them. She once instructed Lord Melbourne to invite Lord and Lady John Russell to stay three days with her, saying that she “would be delighted to see Lady Russell’s little girl, and would be very happy if she would bring the baby also.” Poor little Lady John! not many months later another baby brought death to her!
Occasionally the newspapers spoke of the Queen in lighter vein, and this paragraph appeared in 1838:—“Could anything have been less expected than to see her present Majesty, a lovely young female, encouraging the practice of snuffing by allowing herself to be named patron of certain snuff-shops? ‘By Special Appointment Snuff Manufacturer to Her Majesty Queen Victoria’! What next?”