Victoria Victorious: The Story of Queen Victoria

The Wedding

I WAS VERY MELANCHOLY AFTER THAT. LORD MELBOURNE DID his best to cheer me up.

He asked me one day what I thought about marriage.

“Marriage? Oh, I have not thought of marriage for a very long time.”

“When did you last think of it?”

“Years ago. You know Uncle Leopold always wanted me to marry my Cousin Albert.”

“I did know,” said Lord Melbourne. “He made it abundantly clear. But it is you who will have to make the match. What do you think?”

“I have no wish to marry…yet.”

“Have you not? You are now twenty years of age. It is a marriageable age…particularly for a queen.”

“I feel it should be set aside for a while.” I burst out laughing. “I have been your pupil for so long that I think as you do. Do you not always say ‘leave it alone.' ”

“Advice, I believe, which has more than once proved effective.”

“Indeed it has. Well, now I will keep to it. What do you think of Prince Albert?”

“He is a German.”

“Did you find him a little… solemn?”

“Many Germans are.”

“He was always tired in the evenings and never wanted to dance.”

“And Your Majesty is indefatigable and loves to dance.”

“I do not think that Uncle Leopold should choose my husband for me.”

“With that,” said Lord Melbourne, “I am in complete agreement. But the matter should be given some thought. We have to consider the Cumberland threat.”

“But I am young yet and although the people like me less after the Flora Hastings affair, they still do not want Cumberland.”

“Royalty has to look far ahead. It might be well for you to think a little seriously about marriage.”

“Uncle Leopold believes there is an understanding between me and my Cousin Albert. When he visited me in Kensington Palace before I was Queen he made a very good impression.”

Lord Melbourne nodded.

“That was some time ago.”

“People change,” I said.

“Some become queens, and that is a great transition.”

I laughed, then I was thoughtful. “If people could forget they don't like me so much,” I said, “and if we could hold off the Tories…if we could go on like this…I would ask nothing better.”

“If is a very important word and life rarely remains static.”

“You are thinking I should marry.”

“I think you should give the matter some consideration.”

I did; and that brought Uncle Leopold into my thoughts. In spite of the fact that a barrier had grown up between us, I was still very fond of him. I was faithful by nature and I would never forget all that he had meant to me in my childhood. He had been a substitute for the father who had died before I knew him. Once I had thought him the most wonderful being in the world. I did not forget such friendships. It was only because he had wished to interfere in English politics that I had had to withdraw from him a little. My affection remained the same.

I knew so well that he had set his heart on my marrying Albert. He loved Albert as he loved me. We had been his children at the time when he had had none of his own. His greatest dream was to bring us together. A marriage to me would be very advantageous for Albert. After all, he was but the younger son of a German duke. Marriage to the Queen of England would be a very good match for him. And for me? I believe Uncle Leopold considered Albert to be wise and good and that he would be a help to me. He had the welfare of us both at heart.

But I was unsure of myself. I had grown up a good deal since the days when I had first met Albert and been overwhelmed by him. Uncle Leopold had talked so much of his virtues that when he had arrived he had seemed wrapped in an aura of beauty and goodness. I had been very young and impressionable… perhaps I still was… but under the worldly guidance of Lord Melbourne I had grown up a little.

Stockmar had left us some time before this because Uncle Leopold had wanted him to devote all his time to Albert. Uncle Leopold had doubtless seen that Stockmar could do little to guide me when I had taken so wholeheartedly to Lord Melbourne and listened only to him.

I thought I should write frankly to Uncle Leopold, so I did, explaining that for the time being I was quite content with things as they were, and the country did not seem overanxious for me to marry. I thought it would be wiser for Ernest and Albert not to pay a visit to England… just yet. What were Albert's thoughts about the matter? He did realize, did he not, that there was no binding engagement. It would be well for him to understand this. I heard such glowing reports of Albert, and I was sure I should like him, but that might be as a friend, a cousin, or a brother. I could not know until I met him again, and I did not want anything to be expected from such a meeting. It made the situation rather delicate, particularly if Albert did not have a clear understanding of it. I thought there was no urgent need to come to a decision for two or three years…at the earliest.

I felt relieved when I had sent off that letter. It would give Uncle Leopold a clear picture of how I felt.

I WAS THROWN into a whirl of excitement by the visit of yet another uncle. This was Uncle Ferdinand, Mama's brother, with his two sons, Augustus and Leopold, and his daughter, Victoire. With them came another cousin, Alexander Mensdorff-Pouilly, son of Mama's sister, Princess Sophia, and a French nobleman who had escaped from the French Revolution. I found Alexander quite fascinating; his manners were so perfect and he was more restrained than the other cousins who were noisy and liked playing rough games, which I had to admit I enjoyed. But there was something romantic about Alexander. He was a little in awe of me and although I assured him that he must not be, I did like that in him. I told Lord Melbourne that it showed a modesty that was most becoming.

“He is not entirely German,” said Lord M. “Therefore he lacks Teutonic arrogance.”

“Lord M,” I said, “I do not think you like the Germans.”

“Oh,” he replied airily, “it is a mistake to generalize. There might be some very pleasant Germans… but perhaps not so many pleasant people as one would find in other nations.”

“In England, I suppose,” I said ironically. “Gentlemen like Sir John Conroy or Sir Robert Peel.”

“You slander the right honorable gentleman to speak of him in the same breath with that other…”

“Reptile,” I finished. “But you must admit that he is at least not a German.”

I laughed with him and continued to enjoy the company of the visitors. I was joining in their games, laughing as loudly as they did and I was on the most familiar terms with them, but Alexander remained the one I liked because he was more serious and I think a little in love with me.

As usual these visits were all too brief. I went down to Woolwich to see them off and actually went on board the ship which was to take them away. There were so many sighs and regrets, so many promises to come again. Then I stood waving while the ship sailed away and the band played “God Save the Queen.”

At our next meeting I detected a certain relief in Lord Melbourne's face and I said, “I believe you are glad the cousins have gone. Confess. You did not like them.”

I was rather pleased because I thought the reason he did not like them was because they had taken my attention from him; also to watch them riding and leaping, running and performing the dances of their country had made him feel old and tired.

“Children must play games,” he said.

“So they seemed childish to you?”

“They are perhaps a little young for their years.”

“I enjoyed the romps.”

He smiled a little sadly and that made me thoughtful.

I looked afresh upon this man whom I loved so dearly. He was very handsome with those wonderful blue-gray eyes which were fringed with dark lashes, such expressive eyes, which so often had filled with tears, indicating his tenderness for me. And I thought of all the talk of marriage and the uneasiness of the political situation, and the horrible fear that he might be thrown out of office which would mean that we should see little of each other, for a Tory minister would never allow the Queen to be on friendly terms with the Leader of the Opposition. I pondered on this and thought how unpredictable life could be and it was foolish to imagine one could go on in the same way for ever.

I said on impulse, “Lord Melbourne, I want you to have a portrait painted. I shall hang it in my sitting room and then I shall always be able to look at you even when you are absent.”

He was deeply touched and with tears in his eyes said that although sitting for a portrait was not his idea of the best way of passing time, he would gladly endure the ordeal if it was my wish.

“Oh, it will not be so bad,” I told him. “I will come and watch the work in progress.”

“That will be a great inducement.”

“I daresay Dashy would like to come, too. You know how fond he is of you.”

“Then I shall be assured of good company.”

I was not going to let the matter be forgotten and engaged Sir William Charles Ross to paint the portrait, which I insisted should be done at the Palace.

I enjoyed the sittings far more than Lord Melbourne did. I could sense that he was somewhat restive. I sat with him and Dashy came and watched the progress with an interest that amused us all and sent me into gusts of laughter.

It was the best way of forgetting all that unpleasantness through which I had recently passed, and living in the moment, which was so amusing.

When the portrait was finished, I was not altogether pleased with it. It was like Lord Melbourne, but not nearly as good-looking as the original.

When I mentioned this to Lord Melbourne he said, “Oh Ross always likes to make his sitters look worse than they are. He thinks it is such fun.”

“I do not,” I said. “I like to see people as they are.”

“An artist will talk about seeing through an artist's eyes.”

“Well, if an artist cannot see what is there, his eyes need attending to.”

“Your Majesty is as ever the Mistress of Logic.”

I hung up the picture, and even if it was not entirely true to life, at least it was pleasant; and I did feel it would be comforting to have it there … forever.

UNCLE LEOPOLD MUST have been rather disturbed by my letter for I had one from him which said that he intended to pay me a short visit. When he said short he meant very brief indeed.

He intended to leave Ostend overnight and I was to be in Brighton where he could join me for a few hours, talk to me and then return.

The idea of traveling to Brighton did not appeal to me. Moreover I distrusted this idea of a few hours. I thought I might be pressed into making some agreement which I did not wish for. If anything was suggested I wanted time to talk it over with Lord Melbourne.

So I wrote back and said I could not be in Brighton for I had so many duties in London. He knew what a trying time I had passed through recently for he was fully aware of what was going on in England.

He must make it a proper visit. Let him come to Windsor. I should be so delighted to entertain him there.

I think he was a little put out because in the past I had immediately fallen in with his suggestions.

However, I guess he was very disturbed by what I had said about Albert; and he agreed to make arrangements for a visit to Windsor.

I was as excited as ever at the prospect of seeing him. I had forgotten those little differences we had had. What were they in a lifetime of devotion! Of course Uncle Leopold must act in a way which would be advantageous to Belgium. Of course he must rally as many friends as he could. It was only natural that he should ask for my help if I could give it.

When he, with Aunt Louise, arrived, I was waiting to greet them. I ran into Uncle Leopold's arms and he embraced me warmly.

“Still the same dear child,” he said.

“I am twenty now, Uncle Leopold.”

“Yes…yes…growing up.”

And there was Aunt Louise, looking much older, not the lighthearted young woman I had known when she was first married to Uncle Leopold.

I spent a great deal of time with him for he was with us for only a few days. There was, he said, so much to talk about; and the theme of his conversation was Albert.

He was surprised, he said, at my attitude to marriage.

I replied that I thought my attitude to marriage was quite normal.

“I mean your own marriage. You seem to avoid all thought of it.”

“Oh no, Uncle. It is just that I am young as yet and there seems no immediate need for it.”

“My dear child, as you have said, you are twenty years of age. That could be quite mature. You are certainly ready for marriage. A monarch has duties toward the State. You have to give the country heirs. Do you realize that your uncle, the Duke of Cumberland, the King of Hanover, is waiting to pounce?”

“He has always been the bogeyman. I used to be terrified of him when I was young. I thought he was a horrible one-eyed monster, a Cyclops.”

“Nor were you far wrong. He is just waiting now, as he always has been, to seize the crown.”

“Oh, Uncle, I am not going to die yet. I am years younger than he is.”

“Don't talk of dying, dear child. Just be reasonable. Think of the future… what is expected of you. You enjoyed the visits of your Coburg cousins.”

“Oh yes. They were such fun… all of them. I thought Alexander was charming.”

“I remember how much you enjoyed the visit of your cousins, Albert and Ernest.”

“Yes. That was long ago. But I do remember.”

“I have had the most excellent reports of Albert from Stockmar. He says he is a young man in a million.”

“Stockmar would not say that if he did not believe it.”

“Indeed not. I have the highest hopes for Albert.”

“Yes. I know you always did.”

“You and he…my niece, my nephew … my dearest children, both of you. You remember those days when I was a widower… mourning Charlotte and the loss of our child. You were my comfort, you and Albert. Planning for you, spending my days trying to discover what would assure the happiness of you both…”

“I do remember, Uncle. You were so good to me…to Albert too.”

“It was always my dearest wish that you two should come together.”

“Yes, Uncle, I know.”

“I think I should be completely happy if I could see you and Albert married.”

“It may come to pass…in time.”

“I am not sure that Albert is prepared to wait… indefinitely. I think you should make up your mind soon.”

“Not prepared to wait! But there has been no agreement … no engagement.”

“That is true. But it is known that you and he…”

“But why is it known? I have never given my word.”

“Albert cannot be humiliated.”

“I certainly do not wish to humiliate him. But marriage is a serious matter. One wants to consider.”

“You must consider. It is unwise for you to go on living as you do. I know, of course, that you and your mother are not on the best of terms, and that grieves me…It grieves me deeply. You are living here in separate households. There was that unsavory matter of the girl who died.”

“Yes, but at least we have rid ourselves of Conroy.”

“I did hear of that. It was most unfortunate. And there is another matter. You seem to be on terms of very special friendship with your Prime Minister.”

“My Prime Minister is a wonderful man.”

“I have no doubt of his excellence, but does that mean that he should be on…er… such terms with the Queen?”

“He is a great friend as well as adviser.”

“My dearest child, you are so good, so honest, so honorable, that it does not occur to you that there are people in the world who are less so. Royalty cannot afford … scandal. It can be the end of them. In view of everything…you must consider marriage.”

“I have considered and have decided that it is for the future.”

“That will not do. You need marriage soon. You need the good, sober companionship of one who can stand beside you and assist you, someone to share the burden that has been put on these dear young shoulders. I will arrange for Ernest and Albert to pay you a visit. I think when you see this unusually talented young man you will be in entire agreement with me.”

I could not bear to see Uncle Leopold so disturbed and I cried, “Oh, I hope so, Uncle. I do indeed.”

Their visit was coming to an end. I had had little time with Aunt Louise. Poor Aunt Louise, so different now! She was still elegant—that was innate—but she did not seem to have the same joy in her clothes. I think her life with Uncle Leopold must have been very serious.

My acquaintance with Lord M had made me see people differently. I loved Uncle Leopold dearly, of course, but he was so serious; and he had somehow drained all the merriment out of Aunt Louise. One could not laugh with them as one could with Lord Melbourne. There were none of those dry cynical comments which amused me so. I could not laugh… vulgarly… with Uncle Leopold. I always had to remember to keep my mouth shut when I did so. It was almost as bad as having the prickly holly under one's chin; but there should be nothing tormenting about laughing. Uncle Leopold was so good really, whereas my dear Lord M was just a little wicked. Those divorce cases and then Lady Caroline Lamb, his wife, being so mad and all that scandal about Lord Byron. It was not Lord Melbourne's fault; but the dear man did seem to have become caught up in so many scandals. And that had an effect on him and made him easy to get along with. It made him fascinating, too.

Was I faintly critical of Uncle Leopold? Although I had soothed him and listened patiently to his eulogies on my cousin Albert, was I beginning to build up that obstinacy—which Lord M knew existed and did not hesitate to call attention to? Now, was it a sort of resistance to Albert?

In any case, when Uncle Leopold and Aunt Louise were about to leave I felt the old desolation at the prospect of parting and I told them, with absolute sincerity, that I should miss them sadly.

I said a tearful goodbye on their last day for they were leaving early in the morning, but when morning came, I woke early, got out of bed and went to their apartment where they were having an early breakfast.

They looked very sad in the light of the candles and I told them I was too because they were leaving. Their visit had been far too brief.

Uncle Leopold agreed that it had been and assured me once again of his love and continual concern for me.

“I want to see you happy, dearest child, before I depart this life,” he said.

“I am happy, Uncle,” I replied. “If only we can keep the Tories out and all these horrible things which have been happening are forgotten, I can be quite happy.”

“I want to see you fulfilled. I want to see you looked up to. I want to see you doing your duty to the State.”

That meant he wanted me to marry Albert.

And in that tender moment of parting I thought: Oh, Uncle, I will try to like him. I really will.

We embraced again and parted.

I went to my room and watched their carriage carry them away to the ship which would take them across the water.

THERE CAME THAT memorable October day—the tenth to be precise.

I awoke to find Lehzen standing by my bed.

“Good morning, Daisy,” I said. “I feel a little sick.”

“It was the pork last night,” said Lehzen. “And you do gobble so, you know.”

“You sound like Mama. You will be telling me soon that I show my gums when I laugh.”

“Are you feeling very sick?”

“No, only a little. Nothing that a walk in the park will not put right.”

“There is something else. Some of the windows were broken last night. It looks as though someone took it into his head to throw a stone or two.”

“How dreadful!”

“Are you going to get up?”

“Yes, I must.”

After breakfast I expected Lord Melbourne to come to see me but instead he sent a message. He, too, felt sick and thought it was due to the pork.

“It should have been all right,” said Lehzen. “There was an R in the month.”

“I shall go out now,” I told her. “All I need is fresh air.”

“Wrap up well,” advised Lehzen. “The wind is fresh.”

As I walked in the park I was thinking of what Uncle Leopold had said during his visit. Indeed, I had thought of little else since his departure; and the more I thought of it the more determined I became not to be forced into marriage.

Lord Melbourne agreed with me. What an understanding man he was! He was not overfond of Germans and was always stressing their failings.

Dear Uncle Leopold, I thought. I do love you as much as ever, but you must not interfere.

In the distance I saw a page. He was running toward the Palace.

“What is it?” I called out. Then I saw that he was carrying a letter.

“Your Majesty,” he panted. “I was to deliver this to you immediately.”

I took it and saw that it was from Uncle Leopold.

I tore it open and read: “Your cousins, Ernest and Albert, will be with you this evening.”

I could not believe it. This very evening!

My heart was pounding as I went back to the Palace.

LORD MELBOURNE SAID it was short notice, particularly for people who were suffering from a surfeit of pork. We must forget our discomfort and prepare ourselves for the arrival of the august gentlemen.

“They will be exhausted when they get here, no doubt,” went on Lord M. “There is quite a gale blowing across the Channel. I don't envy them the trip.”

All preparations had been made. I had dressed for the evening and was waiting with great impatience for the arrival of the cousins.

Then I heard the sound of carriage wheels in the courtyard and was waiting at the top of the stairs to receive them.

And they came; Ernest and Albert. And when my eyes fell on Albert, whom I recognized at once as the more distinguished of the two, my heart leaped and I knew in that first moment that nothing could ever be the same again.

They were coming toward me, these two young men. I am afraid I did not notice much about Ernest. My attention was all for Albert.

He was tall and very pale. Lord Melbourne had been right; it had been an atrocious crossing and I heard later that poor Albert had been very sick. He was in dark traveling clothes which in a way accentuated his pallor and his beautiful blue eyes more than colorful garments could have done. His nose was perfectly shaped, and his mouth pretty with a delicate mustache and very very slight whiskers. What a handsome figure he had! Very broad shoulders and a small waist. His hair was about the same color as mine, so he was fair. Ernest was dark and had very fine eyes, but really my attention was all for Albert.

He stood before me. I raised my eyes to that beautiful face and a great exultation possessed me.

This, I thought, is being in love.

OH THE JOY of that visit… discovering Albert!

I could not sleep that night. I lay in bed thinking of him. Oh dear Uncle Leopold, to have my happiness so much at heart. Of course he was right. Albert was perfect. And I was so happy.

There was so much to talk about. Albert loved music. We would sing together. Duets were so pleasurable. Dash—dear, discriminating Dashy—selected Albert for his special attention and Albert played with him enchantingly. Everything Albert did was done with such grace. He had brought his greyhound with him. Its name was Eos.

He said, “We could not be parted.”

Oh, what feeling! How I understood his love for Eos. It was exactly like that which I had for dear Dash.

I was looking forward to the next day and could hardly sleep at all. I got up early and wrote a letter to Uncle Leopold. I owed him that for sending me this most superb of cousins.

“Ernest is grown quite handsome,” I wrote. “Albert's beauty is more striking and he is so amiable and unaffected … in short he is very fascinating …”

I could have gone on writing of Albert's perfections but I forced myself to stop.

I smiled as I sealed the letter. Uncle Leopold would be very pleased indeed.

That day we went riding. It was so exciting. I knew that I looked my best in the saddle. Then people could not see how short I was. I rode well and my riding clothes, I believe, became me more than any other except ball gowns and such. I loved my horses and they reciprocated my affection, so we got on well together.

I rode between the two princes, but I was hardly aware of Ernest, although he was very charming, of course. Lord Melbourne was of the party, and on this occasion, instead of riding beside me, he was a little way behind.

Soon I would talk to him alone. I would discuss with him my opinion of Albert … of both princes… but just for a while I wanted to keep my thoughts to myself. I was bemused and yet certain. There would never be anyone quite so perfect as Albert. I had no doubt of it. Uncle Leopold was so clever; he had known who would be just the right one for me.

Albert and his brother spoke English well. Clever Uncle Leopold had insisted on their being proficient in that language. Of course they had German accents but that did not prevent their being understood perfectly.

We talked of many things during that ride but chiefly of music. Albert had composed a little. How clever of him! It was just what I would have expected. And I was longing to hear some of his very own music. He also spoke most lovingly of Rosenau, the place where he had been born, and which had been the home he loved best, which showed genuine sentiment and sensitivity.

He made me long to see it.

I returned to the castle more in love than ever. There I had my first talk, after the arrival of the cousins, with Lord Melbourne.

I said, “I want to tell you what I think of my cousins.”

Lord Melbourne smiled at me very tenderly. “I can make a good guess,” he said. “Your Majesty was never one to conceal her feelings.”

“Do you think Albert is handsome?”

“Undoubtedly. Very handsome. And his brother has fine dark eyes.”

“Albert's are blue.”

“That is absolutely true.”

“And he is much more handsome than his brother. At least I think so.”

“I did note Your Majesty's opinion. I think Ernest is a very clever young man from what I have been able to observe so far.”

“Oh, but not as clever as Albert.”

“I should think Ernest possibly has the better brain.”

I turned on him angrily and saw the glint in his eyes. He was teasing me, of course. But he really should not do so on such a serious matter.

“I see that Your Majesty has changed her mind a little regarding marriage,” he said.

I smiled at him. “Yes, dear Lord M, I have.”

He nodded. “That was my inference. I daresay you will not wish to delay the marriage.”

“I see no reason for delay. Do you?”

“None whatever. As Your Majesty has made up her mind and is so well satisfied, the sooner the marriage takes place the better. I take it the Prince will be of the same mind as ourselves.”

I was silent and Lord Melbourne went on, “Oh, is he not yet aware of his happy fate?”

“It presents a certain difficulty. Albert would never act rashly, nor would he disregard etiquette.”

“But of course Your Majesty does not always follow it…if I may be so bold as to say so.”

“You have never hesitated to say what you mean, my dear Lord M. That is why our association has been of such value to me.”

He bowed his head slightly. “You will agree that there will have to be a proposal.”

“I see you understand the difficulty.”

“Indeed I do, and I am sure Your Majesty will overcome it. Then we shall have a royal wedding. That is just what is needed now. The people will love it.”

“They are not exactly in love with me just now.”

“All the world is in love with a bride…particularly a royal one. Let us have a wedding and you will see.”

“I no longer feel the same about the people. I shall never forget how cruel they were to me… and they threw a stone at my carriage.”

“They will throw kisses and cheers on your wedding day.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

I smiled at him lovingly. What a comfort he was! But he was looking a little tired and I had not realized how old he looked. Of course he was old.

I suppose I was comparing him with Albert and his radiant youth and beauty.

Dear Lord M! I should always love him and cherish the memory of those years when we had been together. But already I was moving away from him. I should have another with whom I would discuss my difficulties, another who would share my personal burdens as well as those of state.

How wonderful it was to be in love! And what a change it was going to make.

I HAD MADE up my mind. There was one thing to do. Albert dared not ask me to marry him because I was a queen and he was only a prince of a minor dukedom … and not even his father's eldest son. I must propose to him.

It was the twelfth of October. Another memorable day. We had been out hunting and when we came back to the castle I asked him to come into the Blue Closet. He came in expectantly. He must have guessed what was going to happen.

I said to him, “Albert, I think you must be aware of the reason for my asking you to come. It would make me very happy if you would consent to what I wish, and I believe you do… and that is for us to marry.”

Dear Albert! His joy was intense; and there was relief in it too. Uncle Leopold had been right when he had said Albert was uncertain of me.

Well, he need be so no longer.

Albert forgot his English then and I was glad. He told me in German how happy he was, and that above all things he wanted to spend his life with me.

We embraced with the utmost tenderness.

I had never been so happy in the whole of my life, and when we left the Blue Closet, I was betrothed to Albert.

WHAT GLORIOUS DAYS they were! We rode together, walked, sang, and danced. Our voices blended perfectly and I loved to sing those songs—all with such beautiful sentiments—which Albert had composed himself. I could see that we were going to be very happy together. We discussed the wedding which could not take place immediately, but we thought it might do so early in the New Year. Albert had to return with his brother to Saxe-Coburg, and because of the importance of a marriage like ours there was a great deal to be settled before the actual ceremony.

Albert was, of course, more restrained than I, but I felt no inclination to pretend that I felt anything but love for this supreme being. I would come up behind him when he was sitting and kiss the top of his head; and when we parted call him back for one more kiss. My love seemed to be overflowing and I saw no reason for stemming it.

Lehzen thought I was too effusive. Poor Lehzen! Was she a little jealous? I often caught a half-smiling look in Lord Melbourne's eyes, and I knew he was a little amused by my exuberance.

Well, I was as I was, and it was not in my nature to hide my feelings. I think Albert, at times, was faintly embarrassed—when we were with others—at my displays of affection. Dear Albert, he was a little bemused by his good fortune, I think. I was three months older than he was and a queen. My rank must have been the reason why I behaved naturally and did not have to worry so much about what people were thinking of me. My uncles had done what they liked and what was natural to them; that was why some of them had been called eccentric. I was not exactly that. I merely betrayed my feelings—and I could see no wrong in doing that.

There came the sad day when Albert had to say goodbye.

“It will not be for long,” I assured him. “Then we shall be together for the rest of our lives.”

The days seemed flat without him; but there was so much to do for the wedding.

Lord Melbourne said he would draw up a Declaration for me to read to the Privy Council, so that they could all be told formally of my intentions.

It was rather comforting to be sitting with Lord Melbourne in the Blue Closet, which would never be the same again because within its walls I had proposed to Albert.

I could not resist telling Lord Melbourne about it and how it had been a rather embarrassing thing to do. “But poor Albert would never have proposed to me. Someone had to do it.”

“I told you you would, did I not?”

“Oh yes, you did. There may be other occasions when similar situations arise. Albert will have to remember that I am the Queen.”

Lord Melbourne gave me one of those wry side glances and said, “I am sure Albert will remember that because he will not be allowed to forget.”

“There are times, Lord M,” I said, “when I feel you do not have enough appreciation for Albert.”

Lord Melbourne was silent and I stamped my foot and insisted, “Am I right, Lord Melbourne?”

“Dare I tell Your Majesty that I think he is very young and perhaps inexperienced.”

“Everyone is inexperienced at first. Albert will support me with all his might. He is so good.”

“Oh yes, he is indeed a very virtuous young man.”

“And we shall have you at hand, my dearest Lord M.”

Then he gave me that sad look which meant that he was thinking of the Tories.

“Dear Lord M,” I said, “I am afraid I have been absentminded, a little gruffish, lately.”

He smiled at me sweetly. “It is natural,” he said.

“I have a little miniature that Ross did of Albert. I am having it put into a bracelet, which I shall wear always.”

“I hope it is a good likeness.”

“It does not do him justice. I remember what you said about Ross's liking to make people worse because it was such fun. I don't think it is fun at all. I think it is rather silly. But nobody could have painted a picture of Albert that would have been half good enough.”

He regarded me with his head on one side and with that tenderness that always moved me. Dear Lord Melbourne! Although I loved Albert, there would always be a place in my heart for my Prime Minister.

HOW DELIGHTED I was to read Uncle Leopold's letter! His joy shone out of every line.

My dearest Victoria,

Nothing could have given me greater pleasure than your dear letter. I had, when I saw your decision, almost the feeling of Zacharias—‘Now lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace.'

You will find in Albert just the very qualities and dispositions which are indispensable for your happiness and will suit your own character, temper, and mode of life…Albert's position will be a difficult one but much, I may say, will depend on your affection for him.

Lord Melbourne has shown himself the amiable and excellent man I always took him for. Another man in his position, instead of your happiness might have merely looked to his own personal views and imaginary interests. Not so our good friend; he saw what was best for you, and I feel it deeply to his praise…

I was so delighted with the letter, and as it was so complimentary to Lord Melbourne, I showed it to him. He had always been a little suspicious of Uncle Leopold, so I thought it a good idea to let him see that my uncle at least had a very good opinion of him.

Lord Melbourne's comment was, “Simeon, I believe… not Zacharias.”

“What?” I demanded.

“Lord now lettest Thou Thy servant…”

I smiled at him. That was so like him.

“I am so pleased,” I said, “that my dear Uncle Leopold has got what he wanted.”

“What pleased me,” said Lord M, “is that Your Gracious Majesty has got what she wants.”

He then went on to talk about letting people know that I had decided to marry.

I DRESSED MYSELF in one of my plainest gowns. I did not want to look in the least frivolous. I wore my bracelet to which had been attached the miniature of Albert. Then I was ready for the ordeal.

They all looked up at me. I imagined they saw the picture on my wrist. They would be aware that I was holding Lord Melbourne's Declaration and that would tell them the reason why I had come.

Anything Lord Melbourne wrote was always gracefully worded in elegant prose, and so was this. It was a pleasure to read his composition. I told them that I had decided to marry and whom, and that the marriage would be celebrated very shortly.

When I had read the Declaration I walked out of the Council Chamber.

Lord Melbourne came to see me a little later. He was mildly disturbed. I had never seen him more than mildly so even during the Flora Hastings trouble, so I guessed that something rather important had happened.

“It is my fault,” he said. “I did not think it necessary to say that Prince Albert is a Protestant. The Press are making a merry to-do about this. They are saying he is a Catholic, and that it will not be tolerated for a ruler of this country to marry outside the Reformed Faith.”

“But Albert is of the Reformed Faith. How could they possibly think he is a Catholic?”

“Your Uncle Leopold has made a point of marrying his relations all over Europe, and some of those advantageous marriages have been with Catholics. They are suggesting that as no mention was made of the Reformed Faith, Albert may be one of those who has collapsed into Catholicism.”

“That can easily be put right.”

“True. But it shows the temper of the people who are determined to make our way difficult.”

“Why are people so unkind?”

“In the case of the Press they want to sell papers so they are hunting for all sorts of spectacular tidbits. In the case of the Tories, they want to put obstacles in our way. They want to raise issues we have to defend and they are hoping that there will come a time when they will defeat us and make it imperative for us to go to the country.”

I shivered.

“Please, Lord Melbourne, let them know that Albert is a firm adherent of the Reformed Faith.”

“With all speed,” said Lord Melbourne.

I should have been prepared for more trouble.

Although it was easy to prove that Albert was not, and never had been, a Catholic—he was a Lutheran in fact and most certainly therefore of the Reformed Faith—there were other objections. I really believe there are some people who hate to contemplate the happiness of others.

One would have thought that my Uncle Cumberland, now that he was King of Hanover, would have been content to give up all thought of plaguing me. I was no longer a newcomer to the throne; I was the anointed Queen of England—but he was one who never gave up hope.

Naturally I had decided that Albert should be beside me at all ceremonies, and that meant he would take precedence over everyone else at Court, and that he would come before my uncles in order of importance. The Dukes of Cambridge and Sussex understood this and accepted it as natural; but of course Cumberland had to object. He was not only a duke, he was a king; he was the son of my grandfather George III, and but for the ill fortune which had brought my father into the world before him, he would now be on the throne of England. That fact had rankled him throughout his life, and he now began to stir up trouble. He referred slightingly to Albert as a Paper Highness; and he persuaded Cambridge and Sussex to fall in with him.

I was furious and especially so when I heard that the Tories were standing with the dukes. How I loathed Sir Robert Peel—the horrid hypocrite, always pretending to be so good and stirring up trouble for me. When the Duke of Wellington supported him, I was really disgusted and declared that I never wanted to see that old man again.

I had suffered from their insensitivity before, but I had never felt so enraged against them as I did now when their venom was directed at Albert.

Uncle Leopold, having attained his heart's desire, was now writing telling me what must be done. Albert should have a peerage, he said.

When I showed his letter to Lord Melbourne he retorted, “Parliament would never agree to that. They would be afraid that if he were in the Lords he would attempt to rule the country. They do not forget that he is a German.”

I knew they did not forget. They referred to him in the Press as the German Princeling.

I said to Lord Melbourne, “They seem to think that no one is any good unless they are English.”

“A common trait among nations,” he commented.

“They are saying that there have been too many Germans in the royal family.”

“There have been a large number since the coming of George the First.”

“What would people have? Stuarts? I cannot remember that they were so good for the country. One of them brought about a civil war. Is that what they want?”

“Nations never want what they have, and look back nostalgically to those days which seem rosy because they are too far back to be seen clearly.”

“I do wish they would be reasonable.”

“That is what we must all try to be.”

“Albert is worthy of the highest rank. I shall defy them all by making him King Consort.”

Lord Melbourne looked at me with that half tender, half exasperated look I knew so well.

“That could never be,” he said quietly. “Parliament cannot confer kingship.”

“And why not?” I retorted. “Since Albert will be the husband of the Queen, does not that make him a king?”

“No, Ma'am, it does not. He is a prince and cannot be anything else. If you allow Parliament to make kings, you could not be surprised if now and then they decided to un make them.”

“The French did. And what of Charles the First?”

“Your Majesty cannot be thinking of revolutions and civil wars. We want none of those here. There is no question regarding this matter. Prince Albert cannot be King Consort.”

“He cannot have a peerage! He cannot be a king! Then what can he be?”

“What he will be, Ma'am, is the Queen's husband.”

I talked about his allowance. Lord Melbourne said that it was customary to give the monarch's consort £50,000 a year, and he would ask the Parliament to agree to this. I was a little mollified because I knew that Albert was by no means rich. He had only £2,500 a year, so £50,000 would be wealth to him.

I longed to write and tell him that he was going to be rich. I was so certain that there would be no impediment, that I almost did. Lord Melbourne had reminded me that £50,000 had been awarded to Queen Anne's husband, George of Denmark, and to William of Orange, consort of Queen Mary, although William of Orange was, of course, a king in his own right.

It did not occur to me that Albert should fail to receive the same.

Lord Melbourne came to me in a subdued mood.

“I regret to tell Your Majesty that Parliament refuses the grant of £50,000. They will agree only to £30,000.”

I was outraged. “This is monstrous,” I cried.

“Alas, the government was beaten by one hundred and four votes.”

“£30,000 when that oaf, Queen Anne's husband, was given £50,000! How can they be so stupid? What good was that man to the country? And dear, clever Albert …” I was so angry. I turned to Lord Melbourne, “How could you allow it? You should have stopped it. You are the Prime Minister.”

“Your Majesty will know that it is not in the Prime Minister's power to go against the majority.”

“We must insist.”

Lord Melbourne just shook his head.

“Is it so very much more?” I demanded.

“£20,000 to be precise.”

“I know that!” I shouted. “It is nothing…nothing… compared with the money in the country. It is done to insult Albert … and me. How can I tell him?”

“I do believe,” said Lord Melbourne, “that Prince Albert, if he knew the circumstances, would be the first to understand.”

“What circumstances?”

“The state of the country. We are not very prosperous at this time. There is a great deal of unemployment. The Chartists are making a nuisance of themselves and they have their supporters. It would not do to bestow large sums of money on—forgive me, Your Majesty, but that is how people would see it—impoverished foreigners, while our own people are in need.”

I stared at him. I knew there had been troubles, but Lord Melbourne had always made light of them. The Duchess of Sutherland was always trying to interest me in what Lord Melbourne called “causes.” “They give the idle something to do and feel good about,” he had said. I had been interested in Lord Shaftesbury, who had made great efforts to improve conditions in the mines and had brought to light the terrible fate of chimney sweeps. But when I had talked to Lord Melbourne about this he had said that Shaftesbury had been quite cruel to his own children and that charity should begin at home. Lord Melbourne had mentioned these matters lightly, and then he had been quite amusing about some aspects, and I had not thought very seriously about them.

Now it seemed different. It was brought home to me. I remembered the poor man to whom I had given the money I had saved for the big doll. I just hated to see beggars in the streets and always wanted to give to them. I could not bear the thought of little boys going up chimneys and children in the mines.

That sobered me considerably and made me forget my anger about the refusal of the Tories to give Albert his £50,000.

“Yes,” I said slowly, “I do see that.”

I wondered what poor Albert was thinking because he would now know what was going on. I feared he might experience some humiliation, which was the last thing I wanted. I was sure he would understand about his allowance. He would be the first to realize the needs of the people.

He accepted these insults stoically and wrote to me about his household. It was at this time that I began to realize what strict moral standards Albert had. I believe, in his heart, he did not approve of Lord Melbourne who had been cited twice as the lover of married women and had a stormy marriage. He would have heard about the Byron scandal; and like so many very good people who could not bear a breath of scandal, felt that all those concerned in such cases were tainted, even though they might be innocent parties. I did not feel like that; but then I was not so very good.

Albert thought that his household could be composed of both Whigs and Tories. He thought it was wrong to have one party predominant. This was a faint criticism of my household, which was entirely Whig. He always wanted members of his household to be completely moral.

When I put this before Lord Melbourne, he smiled wryly but was very firm.

“There could not be two households made up of different political leanings,” he said. “Your Majesty has seen the disaster brought about by this sort of thing under your own roof—yours and your mother's.”

I agreed with that.

“Well then,” he said, “there should be one household, and I do not think Your Majesty would wish to people that with Tories.”

“I would not endure them in my household.”

“You are the Queen. It is your decision. The Prince should have his own private secretary but he and I can share one for the time being. George Anson is a very worthy fellow.”

“It is good of you to offer to share him with the Prince. I will write to Albert at once.”

Albert's reaction was immediate. He did not think it was a good idea for him to share the Prime Minister's secretary. There was another matter. He believed that George Anson was up half the night dancing. That seemed to Albert a very frivolous occupation for the holder of such an important post.

I was resentful. I liked to stay up half the night dancing, and I had a responsible post. Sometimes I felt that Albert forgot I was the Queen of England. He would have to learn that I knew far more of my country than he possibly could; and it was no use talking about being fair to both political parties and allowing the hated Tories into the Palace. He did not know how odious they could be.

Uncle Leopold wrote. He was disgusted because Albert had not been given a peerage and because Parliament had seen fit to insult him by giving him only £30,000 a year when the custom had been to give £50,000 to consorts of reigning queens.

I was getting a little irritated, even with Albert. He did not understand. Uncle Leopold did not understand.

I wrote to Albert explaining to him that his suggestion about his gentlemen simply would not do. He must rely on me to see that gentlemen of the highest standing and good character would be appointed. I added that I had received a rather disgruntled letter from Uncle Leopold. He was annoyed because I did not take his advice. “Dear Uncle,” I wrote, “he is inclined to believe that he should be in command everywhere.”

I wanted to tell Albert—gently—that although I loved him dearly and respected him in every way, I was the Queen; and even he, dear, good, clever creature that he was, must not forget that.

I discovered that Albert, for all his outward gentleness, had a strong will. He was very disturbed regarding my comments about the household. He thought that he might get together certain noble, right thinking, moral, non-political German gentlemen who could accompany him to England. I would understand, he was sure, how lonely a man could feel in a strange land.

Lord Melbourne was horrified. “A household of Germans! Never! The people would not endure it. Better Tories than that. Your Majesty knows how people distrust foreigners.”

Lord Melbourne looked at me with his head on one side as though to remind me that he had always pointed out the difficulties of a foreign marriage. Perhaps he thought George Cambridge would have been more suitable—an English cousin rather than a German one. Moreover Lord Melbourne had always expressed a certain dislike of Germans.

I told him severely that nationality did not come into the matter. I was not marrying Albert because he was a German but because I loved him.

The situation was growing tense. If Albert had been with me I felt we could have talked over these matters and come to an understanding. It was so difficult in writing. Words on paper looked so definite…so irrevocable. And the posts took so long that if one wrote when one was heated, by the time the letter was received one's mood would have changed considerably.

How I longed to see him and thrash out these difficulties in person.

Albert blankly refused to share the Prime Minister's secretary, and Lord Melbourne said that he would give him up and he should serve Albert only. Albert grudgingly agreed to this, so that was one little hurdle over which we had come.

But there were more. This time between Albert and myself, which was more distressing because there was no one to blame.

I did try to console myself that it was because Albert was inexperienced of customs and manners in England. He had been brought up very strictly and of course he was naturally good. I doubted there had been many storms in his childhood. He would always have been very conscious of his duty, and I was sure he had never strayed from the path of virtue.

The trouble with good people is that they expect such a lot from others whose natures are not so inclined toward goodness.

The first was an upset over the honeymoon. I had had such a delightful letter from Albert telling me how much he was longing to come to England and was so looking forward to our honeymoon. This should be spent at Windsor—dear Windsor—where we had enjoyed such a happy time, and where I had asked him to marry me. The wedding ceremony would be tiring. Dear Albert was often tired. It was because he rose early in the mornings, but then he liked to retire early. I remembered how weary he looked after some of the balls and how he could not prevent himself from yawning. “So,” wrote Albert, “we shall go to Windsor for a whole week where we shall be by ourselves. I shall insist on that.”

Of course, I was delighted that he should want to be alone with me, but dear Albert, he did not understand. The Queen had many duties. Of course he could not realize what the governing of a country like mine involved. How could he? He was but the Prince of Saxe-Coburg—and not the ruling prince either. There was a great deal Albert did not understand, but he would learn, of course; and being Albert he would learn quickly. One of these things was that one did not insist to the Queen.

“You forget, dearest love,” I wrote, “that I am the Sovereign and state business can wait for nothing. Parliament is sitting so I could not be away from London for more than a day or so.”

When I sent off that letter I worried a little. There had been so much conflict after that joyous period when we had declared our love for each other. I wished I could see him. I wanted to know how he was feeling about all these hitches. Letters could sound so chilling sometimes. Had I been arrogant? I could not help it. I had to remind him that it was the Queen whom he was to marry.

I sent him the list of the bridesmaids. I wanted him to agree on every aspect, even this one, so I was amazed when he sent his disapproval of my choice.

He instanced two bridesmaids who should be struck off the list. They were the daughters of Lady Radnor and Lady Jersey. The bridesmaids might be innocent young women, but their mothers had been involved in scandal, Albert pointed out. Lady Jersey had been notorious. Her ill fame had been known throughout Europe. Albert thought that none of our bridesmaids should be touched by scandal.

When I showed the letter to Lord Melbourne, he was amazed; then he began to laugh.

“What does the Prince wish us to do? Check the annals of the past? God help us! What should we find? And what of the bridegroom's antecedents? I ask. His father was a notorious libertine and do not forget that he divorced his wife—the sainted Albert's own mother—for immorality. This, Your Majesty, is going a little too far.”

Much as I loved Albert, I agreed with Lord Melbourne. Albert was being a little illogical on this occasion. If we put his ideas into practice, Lord Melbourne would not be my Prime Minister. And what of my father who had lived so long with Madame St. Laurent without benefit of clergy?

No, Albert was taking his goodness too far; and I must write and tell him that the list of bridesmaids could not be changed.

Lord Melbourne sometimes regarded me with a certain sadness. I knew what was in his mind. Our relationship would necessarily change after my marriage. It would be another who was my constant companion, embuing me with his ideas.

Was I easily led? Perhaps I was when I loved. And did I love too easily, too wholeheartedly? Perhaps there was that in me which looked for male domination. Uncle Leopold…Lord Melbourne…I had loved Uncle Leopold almost fanatically until Lord Melbourne appeared and showed me the flaws in him. And now Albert would be the man in my life.

But with none of these had I ever forgotten the all-important fact: I was the Queen.

IN SPITE OF these irritations the wedding day was fixed for the tenth of February.

We were dogged by ill luck. I had been quite unwell and it appeared that I might have the measles which, fortunately, turned out to be not the case. I did not want to be a spotted bride. Lord Melbourne had a cold which left him with a cough. Mama, of course, could not be expected to let us live in peace. She did not want to move after the wedding, and she was also involved in heated discussions over precedence. It was the old pattern.

Albert's valet had come on in advance with his greyhound Eos. I had had another little dog given to me—a lovely Scotch terrier, which I named Laddie. I was delighted to add him to my little family of dogs of which Dash would always be the favorite, although I loved them all. Lord Melbourne said I had too many dogs, for although they liked him, I fancy he did not like them very much.

I was getting many messages of good will and several presents too; and each morning when I awoke I reminded myself that I was one day nearer my wedding.

The Channel was particularly rough. “Poor Prince Albert will doubtless be getting a buffeting,” said Lord Melbourne with the faintest hint of satisfaction; but he added, “I am sure he will bear it with fortitude.”

Everything seemed to be in a state of confusion. I was so excited I could not sleep or eat. I had a terrible fear that something would go wrong.

Lehzen scolded me and said I must calm myself. Poor Lehzen, she was not quite herself. I think she resented anyone's coming into my life, and of course there could never be anyone as important as Albert.

Again and again I assured her that I should never change toward her; but I think she did not entirely believe me.

She went down to Windsor to make sure everything would be in order for our honeymoon—three days, not the week Albert had said he would insist on.

Mama had been difficult about Albert's and my staying under the same roof before the marriage. I protested. Where else could Albert stay? And did Mama expect him to be married on the day he arrived?

Mama insisted that it was “unseemly,” and to my dismay when I raised the point with Lord Melbourne, he said he thought it would be wiser if Albert stayed somewhere else.

My temper flared up. “It seems to me,” I said, “that everyone is trying to put as many obstacles in the way of my marriage as possible.”

Lord Melbourne patiently explained that he was really trying to remove difficulties and it was an English custom for prospective brides not to sleep under the same roof as their grooms before the marriage.

“Then I think it is the most ridiculous custom and Albert shall sleep at the Palace.”

“As you say, Ma'am,” said Lord Melbourne with an amused little smile. And since I had made my wishes clear, Mama had to agree.

So Albert came to Buckingham Palace. I was sure if there was anything wrong about it, Albert would be the first to know.

What a joy it was to see his dear face! Every silly little doubt I had ever had that this was the right thing to do, disappeared at once. He looked pale—the sea crossing had been atrocious. Albert was so unlucky with the sea. But nothing could mar his beauty and when I looked into his dear blue eyes, I knew how fortunate I was.

He came on a Saturday and the wedding was to take place on the following Monday. Those two days were very happy for me. We sang duets together, and we rehearsed the wedding ceremony; and the hours flew by.

I went to bed on that Sunday night too excited to sleep. It was the last night I should sleep alone. I remembered how much store I had set by that when I had been Mama's prisoner. That seemed years ago, but it was scarcely three.

At such times one is apt to go back in one's mind and think over the past… all the little incidents of childhood; the happy times, the stormy times. It is natural. It is the end of the old life.

When I awoke on that glorious morning of the tenth of February, I could hear the rain teeming down. How unfortunate! The sun should have been shining. There is a saying “Happy the bride whom the sun shines on.” Well, perhaps it would shine after all. In any case how could I fail to be happy with Albert?

The first thing I did was to write to him.

Dearest,

How are you today? And have you slept well? I have rested very well and feel very comfortable today. What weather! I believe, however, the rain will cease. Send one word when you, my dearly loved bridegroom, will be ready.

Thy ever faithful, Victoria R.

There were crowds gathering in the streets. The crimson carpet was being laid out for us to walk on to the carriage. Very soon the moment would come.

I heard the shouts as Albert set out accompanied by his father and brother. I could imagine how splendid he would look in the uniform of a British Field Marshal with the ribbon of Garter—which I had bestowed on him—across his breast. His father and brother would be in green uniforms—a contrast to the glory of Albert.

I heard the shouts and applause go up, and I was thrilled because they were for Albert. I had been afraid that people might have been ungracious to him; but, of course, as soon as they saw him they must admire him.

Then it was my turn.

Mama was to be in the carriage with me. I had been against it but I did realize that on such an occasion we must waive our differences and consider what would look right in the eyes of the people.

When they saw me cheers rang out. Flags were waving and I heard the sound of trumpets. I was aware of the crowds, some on the railings and on the surrounding trees, so determined were they to get a good view.

I felt immensely gratified. The ghost of Flora Hastings had passed into oblivion—or almost—and the affair of the Bedchamber Ladies was forgotten. I was the Queen and this was my wedding day.

I heard gasps of admiration as I stepped out in my voluminous white satin gown trimmed with Honiton lace. I lightly touched the sapphire brooch—a present from Albert and therefore doubly valuable in my eyes. My diamond necklace sparkled about my neck and there was a wreath of orange blossom in my hair.

I sat beside Mama and we went through streets lined with people who shouted and cheered as we passed. I noticed that Mama was much less pushing than she used to be. I think she must have learned a few lessons over the past three years; moreover the odious Sir John was no longer there to guide her actions.

I was vividly reminded of my coronation when I had believed that to be a queen was the most wonderful achievement on Earth; and that if one were good, there would be no difficulties at all. What an innocent I had been! And still was, perhaps, to some extent. On solemn occasions like this, one could feel so young…so inexperienced.

I was not yet twenty-one years of age—but three months older than my dear bridegroom. There was so much I should have to teach him about England and the duties of a queen, for he had shown himself—for example when he had thought we could take a long honeymoon—that wise and good as he undoubtedly was, he did not fully understand the duties and responsibilities of being a queen of England.

It was very impressive in the Abbey and I was deeply moved by the ceremony, and I shall never forget the moment when Albert put the ring on my finger. That sealed our relationship. We should be together now for the rest of our lives. So we were married.

Albert and I clasped hands and looked at each other in wonderment. Everything is going to be perfect for ever more, I thought! How could it fail to be with this divine being.

I caught sight of Aunt Adelaide. How she had aged since Uncle William's death! But she looked rather splendid in a gown of purple silk and velvet trimmed with ermine. Emotionally I turned to her, remembering all the kindnesses of the past—the big doll, how she had understood about the dolls as Mama never had, the occasions when she had tried to arrange for me to go to children's balls and parties, because she knew how much I loved them, and how Mama had prevented my going. Aunt Adelaide had always been gracious to Mama in spite of the rudeness she had received, and it was all because she had wanted to help me. Dear Aunt Adelaide! It was distressing to see her looking so old and tired. I embraced her warmly. She clung to me a little, and whispered that she hoped I should have a very happy life.

There was Mama, standing there, waiting to be embraced and told how much I appreciated all she had done for me. I had many faults possibly but hypocrisy was not one of them. No, Mama, I thought, the past cannot be wiped away just because it is convenient to do so.

She approached me holding out her arms. I took her hand and shook it. I knew by the almost imperceptible gasp of those who were watching that my gesture had been observed.

Then I left the Abbey with Albert beside me for the drive back to the Palace, through the cheering crowds—and the gloomy weather did not matter in the least.

The banquet that awaited us seemed to go on and on, but at last came the moment when I could go to my room and be divested of my wedding garments. There I put on a gown of white silk trimmed with swansdown; and I had a bonnet that was so big that I seemed to recede right into it, which was not such a bad thing, for I had to ride through the streets; and when one is feeling emotional one does not want to be seen too clearly.

I came down and there among those who had come to wave us farewell, I picked out the tall figure of Lord Melbourne.

I went to him and as he bowed, taking my hand and kissing it, all my love and tenderness for this dear man surged up in me.

I said, “Lord Melbourne, you will always be there.”

“As long as you need me,” he said, “and while it is possible.”

I nodded.

“You will come to Windsor and dine with us.”

“During the three days honeymoon?” I saw his lips lift at the corners in the way I knew so well.

“Yes,” I said.

He bowed.

I went on rather shakily, “That is a splendid coat you are wearing, Lord Melbourne.”

“I am delighted with Your Majesty's approval. It seems to me to be built like a seventy-four gun ship.”

He made me laugh as he ever could. But I could see there were tears in his eyes.

I must not stay too long talking to him so I moved on. As I did so I heard him murmur, “God bless you, Ma'am.”

And there was Albert beside me.

The carriage was waiting to take us to Windsor and our honeymoon.