I turned and went out of the room, leaving her deflated and bewildered.

She could not now remain unconvinced that I was determined. I was of age. I was the Queen, and she must perforce obey me.

Ten days later I opened Parliament.


* * *

DURING THE FIRST session of that Parliament the Civil List came under discussion and to my joy I was voted £385,000 a year—£60,000 of which was for my privy purse. This was £10,000 more than had been allotted to my Uncle William and was most gratifying. I was now rich, but Lehzen had brought me up to be provident and I had learned that however much one had, if one were extravagant, that could not be enough. I should not be as my father had been and hoped that when I died I would not leave behind a mountain of debts as he had done. Certain debts of his were still outstanding and the first thing I should do was settle them out of my privy purse.

As a Queen I should have great expenses but I had been careful ever since the days when I had saved up six shillings to buy the beautiful doll I coveted.

Mama had received a further £8,000 a year.

“Which,” Lord Melbourne told me, “has been granted solely for your sake.”

“Oh, how good the government is to me!” I cried.

“Well,” admitted Lord Melbourne, “there was some opposition. There are some very mean fellows about. And do you know, I believe our odious friend Conroy did all he could to stop your getting such a large amount.”

“Oh,” I said, “he is a fiend.”

“The transition has taken place merely by removing the letter r. How easily it is done.”

I thought that was very amusing and typical of Lord Melbourne.

It was soon after that that Lord Melbourne attempted to get rid of Conroy.

“That man continues to importune and is a thorn in our flesh,” he said. “I think the best thing we can do is settle the matter.”

“Nothing would please me more,” I said.

“Well,” went on Lord Melbourne, “let us give him his pension of three thousand pounds a year and a baronetcy. That will shut him up.”

“Is that not giving in to his demands?” I asked.

“Sometimes it is better to make a compromise with the enemy. It saves a lot of trouble. We do not want this man creating trouble, do we?”

“It seems to me a little…weak.”

“Sometimes one has to appear weak to be strong.”

That sounded very profound and at length I agreed, although I hated to see our enemy get what he had demanded.

But that was not the end of the matter. Instead of being grateful that most of his demands had been met, Conroy stuck out for a peerage.

“It is too bad,” I said. “Why should this man benefit from his evil deeds?”

“We have much with which to concern ourselves. Let us get rid of him. I'll offer him an Irish peerage when one becomes available. That might get him out of the country.”

“I should like to see him go.”

“Then so be it. An Irish peerage…if I am Prime Minister… when one falls vacant. That should satisfy our rapacious gentleman.”

Lord Melbourne was smiling to himself and the thought occurred to me that he could be thinking that if and when an Irish peerage was available he, Lord Melbourne, might not be in a position to bestow it; and that worried me so much that it drove all thought of John Conroy out of my mind.

Christmas came. We spent it at Buckingham Palace and then left for Windsor. The days sped by and that glorious year was coming to a close. It had been the most exciting and happy year of my life.

I had not realized before how very irksome it had been to be kept under such close restraint, and in my mind Kensington Palace would always be remembered as a prison by me. Perhaps that was why I was so enchanted by Buckingham Palace and Windsor.

I was soon to be nineteen—no longer very young. I knew that I should have to consider marriage… but not yet. I thought of Albert who was clearly meant for me. Uncle Leopold was very anxious for our union; and of course Uncle Leopold was right. I remembered how charming Albert had been—quite handsome, but really rather serious. He was not merry like Lord Melbourne, who seemed to make a joke of everything. With Lord Melbourne one was constantly convulsed by laughter. I knew there were people who said I laughed too loudly and I opened my mouth as I did so, and that it was rather vulgar; but Lord Melbourne said it was the way to laugh. What was the good of restrained laughter; it made a mockery of the entire practice of laughing.

He was so comforting; he always made me feel that my faults were virtues. I could discuss anything with him, and I could feel sure of a reply that would be amusing and comforting at the same time.

Lehzen said I should guard my temper. It rose quickly and subsided very soon. But I should control it.

I asked Lord Melbourne if he thought I was hot-tempered.

“Perhaps a little choleric,” he replied.

“Choleric! I am passionate. I feel deeply… for the moment, and then I am good-tempered again, and sorry that I have been in the wrong. My Uncle George the Fourth was like that.”

“Let us be thankful that you are not going to be like him in other ways.”

He liked to talk about my relatives. He told me stories of them vividly and amusingly. I had never really known that Uncle Sussex went to find a bride for Uncle William and fell in love with her himself, until Lord Melbourne told me. I did not know the rather sad story of Maria Fitzherbert and how it was said that my uncle loved her till the end of his days and regretted not giving up the crown for her.

He told these stories so wittily that, although I thought some of them a little sad, he soon had me laughing.

What a wonderful year, which had brought me the friendship of Lord Melbourne!

I always felt sad when he did not come to see me. He had so many engagements. I could not stop myself asking where he was going and I used to say how sorry I was he was not dining with me.

He once told me that the Whigs were having a rough passage. It was devilish trying to make a ministry work on such a trivial majority. “It may be,” he said, “that we cannot hang on much longer.”

“But you must. I, the Queen, command you.”

“Alas, Ma'am, these matters are decided by the electorate…and since the passing of the Reform Bill we have all sorts and conditions deciding our affairs.”

But I refused to have these wonderful days spoilt by such gloomy predictions.

I wanted everything to stay as it was during that wonderful year.

It was the 24th May of the year 1838—my nineteenth birthday had arrived…my first birthday as Queen, and of course it must be very specially celebrated.

Mama threw a damper on the day by presenting me with a copy of King Lear. I had never greatly cared for that play, and I realized that she was calling attention to ungrateful daughters. How characteristic of Mama!

But I was too happy to care very much.

The Coronation was fixed for the 28th June and the festivities for that were to start before the great day so they coincided with my birthday.

There was a wonderful state ball. People clamored for invitations. Lord Melbourne went through the lists of guests with me and he said that it was quite pushing and degrading for some of them to ask to be invited.

It was so amusing sitting with him and ticking those who were suitable and crossing off those who were not.

How I enjoyed that ball! I danced whenever I could—quadrilles and cotillions; but I could not of course try the waltz, because that would have meant dancing with someone's arm about my waist, which would have been quite improper. It would have to be a king or someone as royal as myself. It was irritating to have to sit with my aunts and watch others dance the most delightful waltz.

Lord Melbourne was not present and that made me very anxious because I knew there was only one thing which would have kept him away. He was ill.

I was very relieved next morning to have a note from him begging me to excuse his absence. He had been indisposed but was a little better that morning.

I immediately wrote to him, begging him to take care of himself. I told him the ball had been a great success apart from one thing—his absence; and my anxiety would only cease when he called on me in person and I could satisfy myself that he had fully recovered.

I was relieved when he did call on me and was his old amusing self.

There were so many preparations for the coming Coronation.

I confessed to Lord Melbourne that I was a little nervous.

“Oh, you will like it very well when you are there,” he assured me. “There is great excitement throughout the capital. The whole of the country wants to see its little Queen crowned.”

“I hope everything goes well.”

“We shall see that everything goes well,” he replied firmly.

And I knew that he would.

It was wonderful to see Feodore again for she came over, with my brother Charles, for the ceremony. There was so much to talk about with my sister. I had heard about the children and it seemed to me that she was very happy; she was different from what I was—more amenable, which was admirable. Feodore would do what was decided to be right for her without complaint. I admired her very much, and it was a great pleasure for me to be with her again. I did not feel so warmly toward my brother because of the way he had tried to interfere over Sir John—and he had always been a friend of that man, which meant there must be certain vital matters about which we must be in disagreement.