“were thought cold and grudging in their loyalty, and the gust of national joy swept them out of sight. In truth, they themselves felt the danger of being carried adrift from their justice and prudence when they met their Queen face to face at her proclamation. As she stood at the window of St. James’s Palace ... her pale face wet with tears, but calm and simply grave,—her plain black dress and bands of brown hair giving an air of Quaker-like neatness which enhanced the gravity,—it was scarcely possible not to form wild hopes from such an aspect of sedateness—not to forget that, even if imperfection in the Sovereign herself were out of the question, there were limitations in her position which must make her powerless for the redemption of her people, except through a wise choice of advisers, and the incalculable influence of a virtuous example shining abroad from the pinnacle of society.”

The young Queen’s character came out in everything she did. Reference has already been made to her tender consideration towards the Dowager Queen Adelaide. The Queen addressed a letter of condolence to her on her husband’s death, and addressed it to “Her Majesty the Queen.” It was pointed out to her that the correct address would be “Her Majesty the Queen Dowager.” “I am quite aware,” said Queen Victoria, “of Her Majesty’s altered character, but I will not be the first person to remind her of it.” She placed Windsor Castle at the disposal of Queen Adelaide for as long as it suited her health and convenience. But while yielding with the utmost grace on various little matters in which her doing so might serve to soothe and console the Queen Dowager, the young Queen showed a knowledge of her own position and what was due to it in substantial privilege, no less than on points of etiquette, that quite astonished her Ministers. Thus when she went for the first time after her accession to visit the Queen Dowager at Windsor, she told Lord Melbourne that as the flag on the Round Tower was half-mast high, it might be thought necessary to elevate it on her arrival, and she desired Lord Melbourne to send orders beforehand that this should not be done. Melbourne “had never thought of the flag or knew anything about it, but it showed her knowledge of forms, and her attention to trifles.”

The numerous children of the late King resigned into her hands their various appointments, and the pensions that had been allowed them. She accepted these resignations to show her right to do so, and afterwards reappointed them, behaving with the greatest kindness and liberality. Greville speaks over and over again of the remarkable union she presented of womanly sympathy, girlish naïveté, and queenly dignity. He says every one who was about her was warmly attached to her, “but that all feel the impossibility of for a moment losing sight of the respect which they owe her. She never ceases to be a queen, but is always the most charming, cheerful, obliging, unaffected queen in the world.” The tears which she shed at her proclamation were due to the intense emotion awakened by her position; they by no means betokened a morbid or hysterical temperament. The records of the early years of the Queen’s reign constantly speak of her gayety and good spirits. At her coronation, in 1838, she is said to have looked as radiant as a girl on her birthday.

The demise of the Crown necessitated a dissolution of Parliament. A general election took place in August, 1837, in which the Whigs were again returned to power, but by a reduced majority.

Lord Melbourne was again Prime Minister, and continued to act as the Queen’s chief adviser and counsellor, not only in public affairs, but also on every personal matter in which she felt she needed the advice of an experienced man of the world. There were some who regretted the Queen’s extreme reliance on Lord Melbourne, looking upon him as a man of an essentially frivolous and volatile nature; those who held this opinion appear to have misjudged him, but the mistake was one for which Lord Melbourne himself was chiefly responsible. He deliberately put on an affectation of foolish frivolity on many of his appearances in public. He would blow a feather about or toy with a sofa-cushion when he was receiving a solemn deputation, with apparently the express object of producing the impression that he was incapable of giving serious attention to serious things. He had to be found out, detected in earnestness as rogues are detected in dishonesty, by close and careful watching when he believed himself unobserved. Sydney Smith was one of those who unmasked him, and showed that with all his air of being hopelessly idle and trivial, he really was an honest and diligent Minister. In his important position as Prime Minister to the girl-Queen, he showed tact, discretion, and devotion, and won her complete confidence and friendship. Until the Queen’s marriage, he virtually combined the functions of Private Secretary to the Queen with those of Prime Minister. He was much more her intimate friend than a Prime Minister had ever been to a Sovereign before. He saw her every day, dined with her constantly, and sat next her at table, and had the art of explaining all the business of State without boring her with sermons and long speeches. He never treated her, as Mr. Brett has said, as if she were a public meeting. He had first made a very favorable impression upon her on the occasion of the last of the unfortunate disputes which took place between William IV. and the Duchess of Kent. Early in June, 1837, Princess Victoria, having then attained her majority, the King offered to settle £10,000 a year on her. The Duchess wished that £6,000 of this should be for herself, and £4,000 for the Princess. There were the usual unseemly squabbles, and neither would give way. Melbourne conducted the business on the part of the King, and although he must have known that the Princess Victoria would be Queen in a very short time, he yet defended his master’s views and interests with a warmth and tenacity which proved him to be no time-server. It is equally to his credit and to that of the young Queen that this circumstance was the foundation of the full confidence and esteem which she afterwards placed in him. Greville describes their relations as being almost like those of father and daughter. “I have no doubt he is passionately fond of her, as he might be of his daughter if he had one, and the more because he is a man with the capacity for loving, without having anything in the world to love. It is become his province to educate, instruct, and form the most interesting mind and character in the world.... It is a great proof of the discretion and purity of his conduct and behavior that he is admired, respected, and liked by the whole Court.”

If Melbourne was, in the eyes of the world, the Queen’s tutor in statesmanship, there was another behind the scenes no less assiduously devoting himself to her instruction. Shortly before the late King’s death, Peel had expressed a hope that Leopold would not come over immediately on his niece’s accession, as his influence and interference would cause jealousy and heart-burning. Leopold did not come, for the excellent reason that he was there already in the person, alter ego, of the faithful friend and trusted servant, Baron Stockmar. Stockmar, though at one time somewhat doubtful whether Prince Albert would prove the right Consort for the Queen of England, had by this time thoroughly identified himself with the realization of Leopold’s dream of reproducing in Victoria and Albert the loves and hopes and ambitions which had been so cruelly crushed at Claremont in 1817. Charlotte and Leopold were to live again in Victoria and Albert. But in order that the dream should come true, it was necessary that Stockmar and Leopold should have their hand on the “very pulse of the machine,” the hearts and the characters of the two young people themselves. King Leopold had Prince Albert with him in Brussels for ten months, from June, 1836, while Stockmar proceeded to Kensington to be with the Princess immediately she attained her majority, to aid her by his counsel and advice. Her accession, which followed within less than a month, found him still with her; and from henceforth until her happy marriage in 1840 his time was spent with one or other of the young people. To the end of his life he spent much time with them, and remained their intimate friend and most trusted counsellor in all matters, both public and domestic.

Stockmar, besides his share in bringing about the marriage of the Queen with her cousin, had an extremely important political influence on her, in thoroughly grounding her in the principles of constitutional monarchy. Although no Englishman, it was a case of plus royaliste que le Roi. He was more English than the English in his grasp of, and devotion to, our system of government. He wrote to the Prince in 1854: “I love and honor the English Constitution from conviction; ... in my eyes it is the foundation-corner-cope-stone of the entire political civilization of the human race, present and to come.” He was untiring in impressing upon the Queen, and later on the Prince, that the Sovereign belongs, or should belong, to no party. She must be equally loyal to her Ministers, to whatever party they may belong. Her experience at the head of the State will enable her to detect among her statesmen those who have the good of their country sincerely at heart, while differing, as human beings must differ, as to the means by which that good is to be attained. There will be some in all parties who make the honor and welfare of their country their first object, and there are some in all parties who are wishing to dishonor and injure their country, if they think they perceive party advantage to be gained by doing so. To the first of these the Sovereign’s confidence should be given, irrespective of party differences.

Leopold and Stockmar between them formulated the position of a constitutional monarch much more definitely than it had ever been formulated before. Their pupils were the Queen and her husband, towards whose union events were now rapidly tending.

[6] In 1829 the Duke of Cumberland had tried to excite George IV.’s jealousy of the Duke of Wellington by habitually speaking of him to his royal brother as “King Arthur.”

[7] Diaries of a Lady of Quality, by Miss Wynn.