She sat down to write to Uncle Leopold.
Our little boy is a wonderfully strong and large child with very dark blue eyes but somewhat large nose and a pretty little mouth. I hope and pray he may be like his dearest Papa. He is to be called
Albert
and Edward is to be his second name.
Baron Stockmar, who considered it his duty to know what went on at Court, was disturbed because of the Queen’s feelings for Lord Melbourne.
He had never approved of the Queen’s almost fanatical devotion towards her Prime Minister, but there had been some excuse because of Melbourne’s position. Now he no longer held that position yet the Queen and he continued to behave as though he did.
People were talking, Stockmar told himself, and this would never do.
He had been visiting a friend’s house when the subject had been brought up and someone had said that there was no doubt that the Queen and her one-time Prime Minister corresponded daily because Mrs Norton, who was known to be a great friend of Lord Melbourne’s (hadn’t he once been cited as co-respondent when George Norton had tried to divorce her), had said so.
Stockmar brooded on this conversation and shortly afterwards found occasion to visit Sir Robert Peel.
He congratulated the new Prime Minister on the ease with which he had slipped into office.
‘I am pleased to see that the Queen is contented,’ said Sir Robert – and added with a wry smile, ‘at least far more contented than I had dared hope in the circumstances.’
Stockmar, who prided himself on his Teutonic frankness, said: ‘The friendship with Lord Melbourne never pleased me. The Queen’s emotions were too much involved.’
‘She was so young at the time of her accession and Melbourne has all the necessary airs and graces to please a young girl. So many of us lack them.’
‘Countries are not ruled by airs and graces,’ replied Stockmar.
‘True,’ agreed Peel, ‘and I hope now that the Queen will find all her happiness in the circle of her family.’
‘The friendship with Lord Melbourne persists,’ said Stockmar.
‘It is my sincere endeavour to please Her Majesty and her personal friendships are not the concern of her government.’ His tone became suddenly serious. ‘But if I were to discover that the Queen were taking advice on public matters in another place, I should without hesitation resign and would not remain in office another hour.’
Stockmar agreed that this was the only proper course of action, and as the guardian of palace morals, believed it was his place to act.
He immediately wrote to Lord Melbourne.
When Lord Melbourne received Stockmar’s letter he was very angry.
‘God eternally damn it,’ he cried. ‘Flesh and blood cannot stand this. Who is this interfering old German? Germans! I always disliked them. And the Queen has married one!’
Then he laughed at himself. Of course it was wrong to continue to write to the Queen. Of course it was not ethical. But what could he do? For four years she had been his life. He had thought of little else but how to guide her, how to amuse her. And she had cared for him too. He knew she had cried bitterly when they had had to say good-bye.
He was a fool. He was past sixty and in a strange way he was in love with a girl of twenty-two, a queen who was married to a young German Prince and was madly in love with her husband at that.
He wanted them to be happy. He had helped them to be happy and like a fool he was clinging to this correspondence bcause it was all he had left.
He waited for her letters each day. He treasured her affectionate remarks. He looked often at the little charm she had given him to attach to his keys. ‘It will bring you luck,’ she had said. ‘I worry about your health you know.’ Then there were the etchings which she herself had made. She had given them to him because she knew he would treasure something that had meant a good deal to her.
But he was gradually losing his hold. If the letters stopped that would be the end. She would always remember him with tenderness but he would no longer have a part in her life. But it had to be. That had been clear right from the beginning.
When Stockmar came to see him he was his suave self.
‘Well, Baron,’ he said, ‘so you and Sir Robert are uneasy about my correspondence with the Queen?’
‘It must stop,’ said Stockmar. ‘It is highly dangerous.’
‘I don’t know what Her Majesty will say. I am often upbraided for not being prompt enough in my replies.’
‘The Queen must be made to understand. She must be told.’
‘My dear Stockmar, that is not the way to deal with the Queen; the correspondence should gradually discontinue. You may leave it to me.’
Stockmar nodded. He had made his point and he knew Lord Melbourne was a man of honour.
This German is a power at Court, thought Lord Melbourne. He is right, of course, he is shrewd; but there is no wit in him, no humour. What will they do to my sweet Victoria between them – these Germans, Stockmar and Albert?
Christmas had almost arrived and the royal party travelled down to Windsor to spend it at that favoured spot.
The Queen was excited and happy. Pussy seemed to have recovered from her teething troubles and really was fast becoming very bright and amusing. ‘The Boy’ as they called him was clearly very healthy and need give his parents no concern. It was a very happy party. The weather was bright and frosty and the Queen and Albert could enjoy rides and walks in the park and the forest.
There was the excitement of presents. Albert wanted Christmas at Windsor to be exactly as the festival was celebrated in Coburg and it was fun decorating the trees for Christmas. How Pussy loved the flickering candles and even The Boy stared at them in wonderment. Present-giving ceremonies were always a delight to the Queen and it gave her great pleasure to see Pussy with her parcels – although the dear little thing didn’t really understand what it was all about.
The Boy was too young to be of much interest to her, for she had never liked little babies very much. He bawled a good deal and at times – in spite of having his father’s eyes – looked rather like a little frog. Pussy however looked so pretty and often in the mornings Lehzen would bring her in and sit her on the bed. Lehzen liked to sit on the bed too and demonstrate new phases of Pussy’s cleverness; but often when she came Albert would be there and would take the child from Lehzen and turn his back on the Baroness which she could not ignore, so she had to leave them, although she did not like it one little bit.
Victoria was aware of the dislike these two had for each other and sometimes she felt irritated by one of them and sometimes by the other.
But Christmas was a happy time and she very much enjoyed the ball on New Year’s Eve, when at midnight as the clocks were striking twelve, all the music stopped and there was a fanfare of trumpets to usher in the New Year.
She was standing with Albert who pressed her hand fervently. She saw the tears in his eyes, and she knew he was thinking of all the New Years’ Eves he had spent in his own country.
She told him that night that she understood his feelings and knew that he must often think of his native land which he had left for her sake.
‘Don’t think I don’t appreciate that, my dearest Albert,’ she said. ‘I often think of it and I know then that you mean more to me than anything on earth … even more than the darling babies.’
He was deeply moved, but he was asking himself: more than Lehzen?
It must be so, for the time was coming when she would have to choose between them.