The Queen and Lord M

Chapter VI CORONATION

London was preparing for the Coronation.

This was going to be a coronation to make all others seem insignificant in comparison; the last two such occasions had been concerned with ageing and not very attractive old men and there was no Monarch so appealing at such a time as a fresh young girl.

From every part of the country people were arriving in London for the event and scaffolding was being erected along the route which the procession would take; houses fortunate enough to be situated there were being let at high rents and shopkeepers and traders looked forward to booming business. A fair had been set up in Hyde Park for the amusement of the visitors and to add to the general rejoicing. Patriotism, the gaiety of the occasion, and the summer weather made that a June to remember.

When Victoria rode out in her carriage she was often held up while the people expressed their enthusiasm. The roads were jammed with the carriages of visitors and, near the Park, all the coming and goings of the fairground people; there was noise, bustle and excitement everywhere and the general subject of conversation among rich and poor alike, was the Coronation.

‘I feel quite shy to contemplate that all this is for me,’ Victoria told Lord Melbourne.

‘Shyness,’ replied Lord Melbourne, ‘shows a sensitive temperament – a great asset in a queen.’

‘All the same,’ she temporised, ‘I should like to feel more assured than I do.’

‘When you are in the Abbey you will enjoy it,’ he said lightly.

‘I feel very vague about it. I am not at all sure what I am supposed to do.’

Lord Melbourne waved an elegant hand. ‘The Archbishop will explain everything, but it is all very simple.’

Lord Melbourne always made everything so easy.

‘In the meantime,’ she told him, ‘there is such a fuss about the trainbearers. The Duchess of Richmond is arranging what they shall wear. Did you approve of the ladies I chose?’

‘Your choice is mine – and I must say that you showed admirable perspicacity in the choosing.’

‘I thought I must have Lady Mary Talbot as the daughter of the oldest Earl in the Kingdom and a Roman Catholic. I should not want people to think I am biased on religious grounds.’

‘How wise!’

‘And Lady Anne Fitzwilliam I chose because Lord Fitzwilliam has been so kind to me.’

Lord Melbourne nodded. ‘Yes, yes,’ he said. ‘They and the other six are admirable.’

‘I believe you regard the Coronation as a kind of puppet show,’ she accused him.

‘Not your Coronation,’ he replied which she told him was a typical Lord Melbourne answer.

She went on laughingly to tell him about the fuss the Duchess of Richmond was in over the costumes.

‘Really, I think she is not very competent. And a little arrogant. She has a very high opinion of her own judgement which is not confirmed by others.’

‘Like almost everyone I know,’ replied Lord Melbourne, and added, regarding her fondly: ‘With one or two notable exceptions, of course.’

She smiled at him affectionately. ‘They are wearing their hair in plaits over the ears.’

‘A charming fashion,’ said Lord Melbourne, because that was how Victoria wore hers.

‘And can you guess what she wanted to do?’ she demanded indignantly. ‘She wanted them to be pale. She said they looked too robust which was not in keeping with the solemnity of the occasion. So she thought the leeches might be applied to draw off some of their healthy colour.’

Lord Melbourne laughed and Victoria’s indignation vanished as she joined in. But she added firmly: ‘Of course I would not allow that!’

‘She must have thought your attendants should look like ghosts?’

‘What a gruesome idea! She thought it would make them look interesting.’

‘Wraiths risen from their tombs would certainly create great interest.’

‘Lord M, you are joking about a very serious subject.’

‘Serious subjects are the very ones to make jokes about because funny ones are a joke in themselves.’

‘You are very profound, but this is my Coronation and the Duchess of Richmond has stated that she refuses to have the young ladies’ Mammas interfering. They are to have no say in the matter whatsoever. Now she has decreed that they shall wear little flower caps as well as their silver wreaths and these do look rather odd. I should like your opinion on them.’

‘As your Majesty’s Prime Minister it is my duty to give it,’ said Lord Melbourne with one of his most appealing grimaces that made her burst into laughter again.

However, she declared she was serious and sent a servant to request the Duchess to send in one of the young ladies to her wearing the head-dress, as she was anxious for the Prime Minister’s opinion.

Lord Melbourne studied the head-dress very gravely and said it was pretty. But when they were alone he pulled one of his most comical faces and added that he thought it somewhat curious.

Oh, it was such fun to be with Lord Melbourne and she was so gratified because although they laughed and joked about such trivial matters, in the midst of the gaiety he would bring out some important official document such as a letter she must write to the King of Portugal about the suppression of the slave trade or an account of how she must receive members of the Clergy and what she must say to them.

‘I am learning to be a queen,’ she told him, ‘in the most amusing and lighthearted way … thanks to you.’ And in the midst of a discussion on the slave trade they would talk of people’s noses (she was sensitive about hers which was too large for such a small person). ‘People with small noses never made much mark in the world,’ comforted Lord M.

Later they would have to talk about Canada, he added, a slightly worried frown appearing on his fine brow; but for the moment they would devote themselves to the Coronation.

The weather was gloriously hot and foreign visitors were everywhere. The Queen’s half sister, Feodora Princess Hohenlohe, and her husband had come, so had Victoria’s half brother Charles, Prince of Leiningen. The Duchess was happy to have the children of her first marriage with her. They were a great comfort, she told Flora Hastings, when she considered her ungrateful younger child.

Lord Melbourne said there should be an entertainment to welcome them all, and what better than a ball since the Queen enjoyed dancing so much?

‘What a splendid idea!’ cried the Queen. ‘We will dance until four in the morning and this time I hope my Prime Minister will be present.’

‘Only a crisis or ill health will keep him away.’

The ball was fixed for the 18th June which, said Lord Melbourne, was a good date as it was ten days before Coronation day. He had completely forgotten that it was the date of the battle of Waterloo until it was too late to cancel the ball. The French visitors were offended. They referred to it as ‘Le bal de Waterloo’, and there were caustic comments in Paris.

Lord Melbourne shrugged this aside. It would soon be forgotten, he said in his easy-going manner.

At four o’clock Victoria was awakened by the guns in the Park. It was no use trying to sleep again; she was too excited. She prayed that she would go through this day as a Queen should, but she did feel rather nervous.

What a noise there was in the streets! People were already assembling and it was only four o’clock. Some of them she knew had spent the whole of the night in the streets.

She lay thinking of all this day meant and assuring herself that she must never forget that her first duty throughout her life would be to her country.

She was not quite sure what she had to do. The Archbishop of Canterbury was a bit of a bumbler (said Lord M), but the thing to do was to sail through boldly and she couldn’t fail. He had told her of many amusing incidents from other coronations when the most odd things had happened. They had laughed a good deal, until she had said: ‘But they were not funny at the time. It is only fair after that one would be able to laugh at them.’ To which Lord Melbourne replied that the ‘time’ she referred to was brief and the aftermath long so that the short discomfiture was really well worth while. She did wonder though whether the people who had suffered the indignity ever really laughed as heartily as others. Well, said Lord Melbourne, they served their country by amusing it and there was nothing people liked better than to laugh.

‘I’m a little apprehensive,’ she had admitted.

‘Oh, you’ll like it when you’re there,’ he assured her.

It was not a matter of liking or disliking it. It was a dedication and she meant her people to know that this was how she felt about it.

‘I want to dedicate my life to my people,’ she told Lord Melbourne.

‘A very proper sentiment,’ was his reply.

The time was passing and at seven Baroness Lehzen came in through the communicating door.

‘How does Your Majesty feel?’ she asked anxiously.

‘Well and strong.’

‘Now you must try to eat.’

‘That doesn’t usually need a lot of effort, dear Lehzen.’

She was able to prove this with ease.

‘The robes will be rather heavy,’ she commented later to Lehzen. ‘I do hope the trainbearers will manage the train.’

‘They have their own trains to bother them,’ said Lehzen. ‘It was foolish of the Duchess of Richmond to give them trains. I told her so but she was so stubborn.’

‘Well,’ said the Queen philosophically, quoting Lord Melbourne, ‘if anyone trips up or does something absurd we shall no doubt laugh at it afterwards.’

‘Trip up! Be absurd! At your Coronation!’

‘Dear, precious Lehzen, it could happen,’ said Victoria. ‘And I am rather hungry. I did have rather a little breakfast, didn’t I?’

Lehzen hurried off to get a further bite to eat and Victoria ate with relish and was ready to get into the State coach when it arrived, there to sit with the Duchess of Sutherland and Lord Albemarle. How exhilarating it was to ride through those streets with people everywhere, waving flags and cheering. She wanted to weep and laugh at the same time. Her dear, dear people. Oh how proud she was to be Queen of such a nation!

‘It rained at six this morning,’ commented Albemarle.

‘But here is the sun again,’ added the Duchess. ‘It’s going to shine on Your Majesty’s Coronation day.’

Although she had left at ten it was half past eleven before she reached the Abbey. The cheers were deafening and smiling at her dear people she alighted from the coach and went into the small robing room where her eight trainbearers were waiting.

They were all young and looked charming in their white satin and silver tissue dresses trimmed with little pink roses. Their wreaths of silver corn-ears were very becoming but the little flower caps rather spoilt the effect. When the Queen was ready in her crimson velvet ermine-edged with a diamond circlet on her head, Lord Conyngham, who was in the robing room, showed the girls how to hold the Queen’s train, and standing four a side they followed the Queen out into the nave.

All eyes were on the young girl who looked like a child, so small and slight was she in comparison with her trainbearers; but there was a dignity and assurance about her which was regal in itself and only the more insensitive could look on unemotionally.

Victoria was deeply moved. The Abbey decorated with crimson and gold was spectacular. On one side were the peeresses in their diamonds and robes of state; on the other the peers in the costumes the occasion demanded.

When the anthem began the Queen went into St Edward’s Chapel with her trainbearers that she might take off her crimson velvet and ermine robes and put on a little linen lace-trimmed garment in which she would be anointed and over this was put the supertunica made of cloth of gold. Leaving her circlet of diamonds behind she went back bareheaded into the Abbey for the anointing ceremony and in her clear voice beautifully enunciating her words she took the Oath promising to maintain the Reformed Protestant religion.

She was delighted to see Lord Melbourne, standing close to her throughout the ceremony, regarding her with such tenderness that she felt immediately secure and happy.

She took the regalia in her hands: she was wrapped in the Dalmatic robe by the Lord Chamberlain and then came the great moment when the crown was placed on her head.

It was as though the entire Abbey had burst into rejoicing. The trumpets began to sound, and outside cannon were fired. The organ then began to play ‘The Queen Shall Rejoice’, and at that moment the peers and peeresses who had been holding their coronets in their hands placed them on their heads and it was as though every one of the ten thousand voices in the Abbey cried ‘God Save the Queen’.

She glanced at Lord Melbourne, whose emotion seemed almost too great to be borne. The Duchess of Kent was openly weeping in the royal box, nodding her head so vigorously that Lady Flora Hastings, who was in attendance, had difficulty in holding the coronet on her head. Victoria gave a quick glance up at the box over the royal one and there was Lehzen leaning forward, looking so proud and so tender that Victoria’s heart melted with love. Dear, dear Lehzen, she thought, she shall always be with me, always.

Now was the time for the Enthronisation and Homage when first the Bishops, then the Royal Dukes (her uncles) and afterwards the peers in order of precedence should touch the crown and kiss her hand. She was glad that she had insisted on the crown’s being adjusted to fit her small head for if she had not she was sure it would have rolled off, which would have been considered a very bad omen.

There was one unfortunate incident when poor old Lord Rolle, who was very ancient, had to be helped up the steps to the throne on which she sat, but alas as he was about to reach for the Queen’s crown he slipped away from his supporters, fell down the steps and lay on the floor caught up in his robes.

There was a titter and a whispering for it seemed strange that the man who should have rolled down should be called Lord Rolle. His friends lifted him, and determined to pay his homage he started up the stairs again. His face was red, his breathing difficult, so Victoria, feeling sure he was going to fall again, rose and went to meet him, giving him her hand to kiss.

It was a charming gesture and the congregation in its present mood were ready to adore their little Queen. A cheer went up and, pink and smiling, Victoria returned to her seat to receive the further homage.

She was delighted when it was Lord Melbourne’s turn to kiss her hand and touch her crown. How gracefully he performed this duty! And how clumsy were the old Bishops and Dukes; and how dignified and handsome he looked. When he had touched the crown and kissed her hand, he pressed it and raised his eyes to hers (full of tears) and there was such tenderness and pride in them that she no longer felt tired and she believed that she could happily go through a hundred such ceremonies just to win his approval. Then she thought of the Lord Rolle incident and how they would laugh about that tomorrow.

The Duke of Wellington was loudly cheered too when he paid homage. People still remembered him as the hero of Waterloo.

She did notice of course that certain of her trainbearers were giggling and whispering together during some of the most sacred moments of the service. Later she would let it be known that she was aware of it.

When the Homage was over the members of the House of Commons cheered the Queen and cried: ‘God Save Queen Victoria;’ and the Queen took off her crown for the receiving of the sacrament.

It was a little bewildering because there were moments when no one seemed to know what she was to do next. Neither the Bishop of Durham nor Lord John Thynne, the Sub-Dean, who were supposed to be guiding her through the ceremony, seemed to have very much idea; and the Bishop of Bath and Wells cut a piece out of the service by inadvertently turning over two pages.

It was a relief to go back into St Edward’s Chapel to prepare for the procession and fortunately Lord Melbourne was at her side to take care of her so that everything was all right.

‘You were magnificent,’ he whispered; and she was happy, even though the crown which she had put on after taking the sacrament was so heavy and the stupid old Archbishop of Canterbury had crammed the ring onto the wrong finger and it was hurting.

Victoria was rather startled to see that on the altar in St Edward’s Chapel sandwiches had been laid out with bottles of wine. She looked about for Lord Melbourne to mention that it seemed like sacrilege when she saw him helping himself to a glass of wine. She noticed then that he looked very tired and she was all concern.

But he had seen her watching him and put down the wine to come at once to her side.

‘Was the crown heavy?’ he wanted to know.

She told him that it was and he suggested that it be taken off for a moment.

‘A little respite,’ he whispered.

She told him about the ring and he said it was that bumbling old Archbishop. It wouldn’t come off, she said; he had crammed it on so fiercely and already her finger was becoming swollen. That would not do, said Lord Melbourne, and added that very cold water must be brought immediately for he could not allow the Queen to suffer discomfort. There was more of the ceremony to be endured and she must appear smiling and fresh to her subjects in spite of all she had endured.

So ice-cold water was brought and the ring finally but painfully eased off and while this was happening the Archbishop himself burst into the Chapel in a fine flurry crying: ‘Where is the orb? I should have given it to the Queen.’

‘I already have it,’ said Victoria coldly.

The poor man looked so confused and upset that she was immediately sorry for him, but when he went out she caught Lord Melbourne’s eye and they exchanged looks of secret mirth.

‘At least,’ whispered Lord Melbourne, ‘his cope is very fine. It was worn at the Coronation of James II.’

How knowledgeable he was! And how lighthearted everything seemed when he was near!

It was time to leave for the procession back to the Palace and the eight trainbearers took their places. Out into the Abbey they went and to the strains of organ music, the heavy crown weighing her down and the trainbearers having a little trouble with their own trains so that they were not very efficient with hers. But as soon as she was outside she forgot such minor details, for there were the dear people waiting to cheer her and show their loyalty. It was so touching.

Through the streets she rode in the golden coach with its glass windows specially designed so that the spectators could have a good view of their sovereign. It was indeed a magnificent coach with its elaborate carvings of lions’ heads and the great crown on the roof. Lord Melbourne, that mine of information, had told her that it had been built for her grandfather and used for the first time at his Coronation.

How pleasant to sit and not feel conscious of her lack of inches; she bowed her head and smiled and now that she was sitting she felt as fresh as when she had started, although the crown was so heavy and her finger still smarted from that foolish Archbishop’s bumbling mistake.

The cheers, the bands, the trumpets, the smiling faces of her people – all proclaimed her triumph. She felt exultant and her determination was intensified to do her duty by this dear country and her dear people for as long as she lived and to do all in her power to make sure that they never, never regretted this day.

The coach had arrived at the Palace. The crowds keeping their respectful distance, cheered wildly. She smiled, showing her delight and yet never losing that regality which was so much a part of her.

What a relief though to be in her own room, to remove the heavy crown and to say to herself: It is over and I did it well.

Dash came running to her barking fiercely. He had been in the garden digging again.

‘Oh you dirty Dash!’ she cried. ‘Now you will have to be bathed at once.’

Lehzen was in the room. They flew at each other.

‘My precious little Queen. I am so proud.’

‘Oh, dear Lehzen, I was all right, wasn’t I?’

Being overcome with emotion, Lehzen could only nod.

‘I saw you watching me, dear Lehzen.’

‘I didn’t have my eyes off you one moment.’

‘And I was remembering lots of things … how we used to play with the dolls … our reading while my hair was being done … It was a strange time to remember things like that.’

Lehzen could only repeat: ‘I was so proud … so proud.’

‘Now look at this wicked Dashy. He is filthy.’

‘Someone will have to bath him,’ said Lehzen.

‘Someone! You know Dashy never allows anyone to bath him but me. Come, help me out of these things.’

‘But not on your Coronation day!’

Victoria shrugged objections aside and half an hour after her return from the Abbey was seated at the bath with an unrepentant and resentful Dash sending his mistress into shrieks of laughter because he would not stay still and had made up his mind that if he were going to be immersed in his bath he would at least see that she had a good drenching.

The sound of her laughter and Dash’s occasional barks filled the room. Lehzen, hearing it, shook her head.

‘Who would believe she had just been crowned Queen of England,’ she said.

There was not much respite, for dinner was at eight. Not that it was a ceremonial occasion, for just the family were present with one or two guests, including Lord Melbourne. The sight of him made Victoria’s spirits rise. He was at her side immediately.

‘I must congratulate Your Majesty,’ he said, and the tears were in his eyes. ‘It was a brilliant day. Everything went off well.’

‘Everything?’ she laughed, showing her pink gums.

‘Well,’ said Lord Melbourne, putting his head on one side in what seemed to her a very comical way, ‘John Thynne didn’t know which way to turn; the Bishop of Bath and Wells did cut out a piece of the service; the Archbishop wasn’t sure what had happened to the orb and put the ring on the wrong finger; the Bishop of Durham wasn’t sure of anything; the trainbearers were too much involved with their own trains to manage the Queen’s; and Lord Rolle gave a charade of his own name.’

Oh how amusing was Lord Melbourne!

‘And you call that going well?’

‘Yes, because the performance of these minor players only accentuated the perfection of the leading role.’ Lord Melbourne could switch from rather cynical fun to sentiment with the agility of an acrobat. Tears trembled in his eyes. ‘It was a magnificent Coronation, and I was so proud to be part of it.’

At dinner Victoria was delighted to have Lord Melbourne beside her; on his other side was her half sister Feodora and it was such a pleasure to talk to her and Lord Melbourne of the old days. Lord Melbourne knew so much about them and could entertain them with endless stories of Victoria’s relations which were often so amusing. The manner in which he could turn from the serious to the comic was so comforting (as she remarked later to Feodora) because he made everything so amusing and after one had laughed immoderately one would find oneself discussing some very serious matter, which prevented one feeling too frivolous.

The sword of state, he told them, had been very heavy and he had been glad to lay it down. ‘I do not use the term metaphorically,’ he added. ‘I hope I shall continue in my position as long as Her Majesty desires.’

‘I shall always desire it,’ the Queen vehemently assured him.

Then he discussed some of the peers in that light and chatty way of his and how far some of them could trace back their ancestry. Such and such came over with the Conqueror and somebody else had descended direct from the Black Prince. Victoria was glad that Feodora was discovering what a clever man Lord Melbourne was and as she said afterwards, his erudition sat so lightly on him.

After dinner the Queen sat on a sofa and chatted with her half brother, Prince Charles of Leiningen, and of course Lord Melbourne joined them.

The Duke of Wellington was giving a ball at Apsley House that evening in honour of the Coronation and Lord Melbourne said that he supposed he was expected to put in an appearance.

‘You must be very tired,’ said the Queen solicitously.

‘Not as tired as Your Majesty. When I consider the weight of those robes, not taking into account the crown and the regalia, I marvel. And you did it all so beautifully … every part of it, with so much taste.’

‘It was your advice which was so useful to me.’

‘Oh, good taste is something no one person can give another advice about. It must be left to a person.’

As she said afterwards to Charles, to hear such compliments from a kind impartial friend was so gratifying.

He gently advised her that she should go to bed. ‘For,’ he added, with that charming solicitude, ‘you are far more tired than you think you are.’

‘Well, I did sleep rather badly last night.’

‘The Coronation was on your mind,’ he replied. ‘Nothing keeps people awake more than the awareness of a great event and being somewhat agitated about it.’

So Lord Melbourne took his leave and there was nothing after that to stay up for.

Several of the party had gone on to one of the balconies to see the illuminations. Victoria did not join them but went alone to the balcony of her mother’s apartments, where she could watch the firework display in Green Park.

As she stood there, she went over the events of the day, feeling very solemn and dedicated and so thankful that she had her precious Lehzen beside her and her dear good, kind, impartial friend, Lord Melbourne, to guide her.

She slept soundly that night and as soon as she was awake she thought of Lord Melbourne and wrote to him:‘The Queen is very anxious to hear if Lord Melbourne got home safe, and if he is not tired and quite well this morning.’