As soon as he received the drawings he wrote to thank her for them.
Lord Melbourne will ever treasure them as remembrances of Your Majesty’s kindness and regard, which he prizes beyond measure.
They will, as Your Majesty says, certainly recall to recollection a melancholy day, but still Lord Melbourne hopes and trusts that with the divine blessing it will hereafter be looked back upon with less grief and bitterness of feeling, than it must be regarded at the present.
She wept over the letter. She remembered so much from the past: the first day when she had become Queen and he came to cheer and comfort her with his dear presence; she remembered their conversations, his witty, often inconsequential remarks which had amused her so much; she remembered her jealousy when he had spent too much time at Holland House. Then she had been a young girl – a queen it was true – but carefree, as far as a queen could be. She remembered the first summer of her reign. She had never really spent such a joyous summer. Then she had not realised that cares and anxieties went with the pomp, ceremonies, gaiety and the freedom of being Queen.
But that was past; now she was a wife, the mother of one child and soon to have another; and she knew that she had to be wise and strong; and now that she had lost her dear Prime Minister she must try to come to terms with the one she was sure she was going to dislike.
Almost immediately it was necessary to see Sir Robert Peel. The interview was brief, lasting only twenty minutes but Sir Robert was less ill at ease than he had been on that disastrous occasion two years ago; and very anxious for the Queen to know that he wanted their relationship to be smooth and easy. He was as respectful as she could wish. He said he would give her a list of the members of his cabinet for her approval. There was no hurry over this matter, said the Queen, and she would prefer to study the list at her leisure. Sir Robert left and the Queen sighed with relief.
Victoria immediately sat down to write to Lord Melbourne and tell him exactly what had happened. She ended by writing:
What the Queen felt when she parted from her dear kind friend Lord Melbourne is better imagined than described; she was dreadfully affected for some time after, but is calm now. It is very, very sad and she cannot quite believe it yet. The Prince felt it very much too, and really the Queen cannot say how kind and affectionate he is to her, and how anxious to do everything to lighten this heavy trial; he was quite affected at this sad parting. We do, and shall, miss you so dreadfully; Lord Melbourne will easily understand what a change it is, after these four years when she has had the happiness of having Lord Melbourne always about her. But it will not be so long till we meet again. Happier and brighter times will come again. We anxiously hope Lord Melbourne is well and safe. The Queen trusts he will take care of his valuable health, now more than ever.
She was weeping over the letter when Albert came in.
‘Read it,’ she said. ‘Oh, Albert, I shall have to learn to be without him now.’
Albert took her hands and looked steadily into her face.
‘You will have to put your trust in me now, Victoria.’
‘I do, Albert.’
‘All your trust,’ he answered.
She nodded; but he was thinking of the Baroness who still remained as the shadow between them.
The Queen was now getting so heavy that her thoughts were largely taken up with her approaching confinement. Lord Melbourne wrote almost as frequently as he had in the past; he called often and so she did not miss him as she had feared she would. Albert admired the new Prime Minister and it was wonderful how he was able to ease the situation between Peel and the Queen. (‘Although,’ she often said, ‘I shall never like him; and as for his ever taking the place of dear Lord Melbourne that is quite impossible.’) Lehzen fussed a good deal and was always insisting that she rest and should not be disturbed. She even tried to get Albert out of the bedroom, but Albert would not accept this.
Victoria was less irritable and not nearly so nervous as she had been before the birth of the Princess Royal. That young lady was however giving them cause for anxiety. Pussy would not eat; and she was always crying. Sir James Clark had said she could not take rich foods and put her on ass’s milk and chicken broth. Albert said he thought this was not enough for the child and Lehzen insisted that if these were the doctor’s orders they must be followed.
‘Certainly they must,’ said the Queen. It was, as Lehzen had said, Pussy’s teeth which were coming through which made her peevish. It was the same with all children.
And on the 9th of November the Queen’s labour began; she had arranged with Albert that ministers and dignitaries should not be told until the birth was imminent. She was not going through what she did last time with people gathered in the next room listening to her cries of agony.
The child was born. She lay back exhausted and triumphant.
Albert, beside her, beaming with pride and joy, had given her the good news.
‘My dear love, we have a Prince of Wales.’
Chapter XI
NOT THE QUEEN, BUT ALBERT’S WIFE
There was great rejoicing throughout the country. All the dreary prognostications of the Queen’s going the same way as her cousin Charlotte were forgotten. Only two years married and she had two children and the second was a healthy boy.
The press could not forgo its lampoons but they were goodnatured. Sir Robert Peel and Lord Melbourne were depicted as the palace nurses – Melbourne holding the Princess Royal and Peel holding the Prince of Wales.
‘My baby’s better than yours,’ was the inscription in the balloon coming from Melbourne’s mouth.
‘But I have the boy,’ was that from Peel’s.
The bells rang; the cannons fired; and the Queen recovered quickly from her confinement.
There was great discussion about the boy’s name.
‘I want him to be called Albert after his father,’ said Victoria; ‘and I fervently hope that he grows up exactly like him.’
Albert was, she realised, not a name that had been used for English kings and she must remember that this lusty child who screamed a good deal to show what a fine pair of lungs he had, was the future King of England. Edward was a name which had been used by kings many times. There had been six already, so it would have to be Edward she supposed.
Lord Melbourne, who was writing as frequently as ever and on as diverse subjects as he did before, attempted to imply that the name of Edward would be more suitable for the future King of England. It was a good English appellation, wrote Lord Melbourne, and has a certain degree of popularity attached to it from ancient recollections. Albert? Yes, that was an excellent name, went on the tactful Lord Melbourne. It was Anglo-Saxon like Ethelred, but it had not been so much in use since the Conquest.
The Queen laughed. Since Lord Melbourne had ceased to be her Prime Minister she was relying so much on her husband; she was, if that were possible, more in love with him since the birth of the Prince of Wales than before.
‘I shall insist that the boy’s name is Albert,’ she said. ‘I know dear Lord Melbourne thinks Edward more suitable; but as I want him to be like his father in every respect, I shall name him Albert – though Edward could come next.’