THE MAIDEN QUEEN.
Removal to Buckingham Palace--First Levee--Dissolves
Parliament--Beauty of her Elocution--Splendid Reception by the City of
London--Settlement of the Queen's Income--Her Daily Life--Her
admirable Knowledge of, and Devotion to, the Business of the
State--Reverence for the Lord's Day.
Greatly to the regret of the inhabitants of Kensington, the Queen, with
her mother, took her final departure from the abode where she was born,
and in which she had spent so many happy days, and proceeded to Buckingham
Palace, on July 13th. The Queen, on this occasion, looked pale, and her
countenance had a very natural, and easily accounted for, aspect of deep
regret. Immediately afterwards she held a Court Levee. It was, of course,
thronged by her loyal subjects who had the privilege of entree; but there
was no appearance of fatigue in her face, voice, or manner, and the day
passed off with spirit and brilliancy. She seemed to have acquired (so say
the court chroniclers of the period), if possible, increased grace and
dignity. She wore a rich lama dress, her head glittered with diamonds, and
her breast was covered with the insignia of the Garter and other orders. A
pair of embroidered velvet slippers covered feet which, resting on the
cushion, were observed and admired by all as "exquisitely small."
On the 17th of July she went in state to the House of Lords to dissolve
the Parliament, in accordance with constitutional usage and enactment on
the demise of the Crown. After thanking both Houses for their expressions
of condolence on the death of her uncle, and for the zeal and assiduity
with which they had discharged their duties, especially for their efforts
to mitigate the severity of the penal code, she concluded by saying:--
I ascend the throne with a deep sense of the responsibility which is
imposed upon me; but I am supported by the consciousness of my own
right intentions, and by my dependence upon the protection of Almighty
God. It will be my care to strengthen our institutions, civil and
ecclesiastical, by discreet improvement wherever improvement is
required, and to do all in my power to compose and allay animosity and
discord. Acting upon these principles, I shall, upon all occasions,
look with confidence to the wisdom of Parliament and the affections of
my people, which form the true support of the dignity of the Crown,
and ensure the stability of the Constitution.
The admirable manner in which the speech was read--her singularly musical
voice being heard, without the slightest appearance of effort, in every
corner of the House of Lords--was the subject of the admiration of all who
heard it. It was, indeed, known that she was a fine singer, and frequently
entertained her mother's guests by singing to them, her mother
accompanying her on the piano; nevertheless, the lucidity of her tones,
and the entire absence of any discomposure to disturb them, surprised
every one, and no one more so than her mother.
[Sidenote: STATE VISIT TO THE CITY.]
The Queen went in great state to the City on Lord Mayor's Day, November 9.
This royal entry was one of the greatest sights which had ever been beheld
in the City. The Queen, looking remarkably well, magnificently attired in
pink satin shot with silver, was greeted with deafening cheers from a
crowd far denser than any she had ever seen, along her whole route from
Marlborough House (her temporary residence until Buckingham Palace was
completed for her occupation) to the Guildhall. The houses along the
thoroughfares by which the cavalcade passed were hung with bright-coloured
cloths, with green boughs, and with what flowers the earth could afford at
the late season of the year. Flags and heraldic banners darkened the dim
November light across the Strand, Fleet Street, and Cheapside; and every
pedestal that could be improvised supported a bust of Queen Victoria. At
Temple Bar the Lord Mayor and Aldermen, mounted on artillery horses from
Woolwich, each of the steeds being held by the head by the soldier who was
accustomed to bestride him, awaited their distinguished guest. The Lord
Mayor, dismounting and taking the City Sword in his hand, delivered the
keys, which were graciously returned, while more vociferous cheers than
ever rent the air. On which, the Lord Mayor, re-mounting and holding the
City Sword aloft, rode before Her Majesty through the City, the cortege of
mounted Aldermen following her carriage. The open space before St. Paul's
was occupied by hustings, crowded by the Liverymen of the City Companies
and the Christ's Hospital boys. One of these, in conformity with an old
usage, having presented an address to the Queen, and the whole of the boys
having sung "God save the Queen," the procession went on its way. At the
Guildhall, which, with all its adjacent chambers, was sumptuously fitted
up, a loyal address was read by the Recorder, and suitably acknowledged.
After this came a sumptuous banquet, from which Her Majesty retired, to
see on her way back the whole line of the route brilliantly illuminated.
The first message which the Queen sent to Parliament when it re-assembled,
was a truly characteristic one: it asked for a suitable provision for her
royal mother. This provision was loyally made, and in the same short
winter session her own civil list was settled. William IV. had enjoyed a
civil list amounting to L510,000, while, from the accession of George III.
to the death of his eldest son, it had been fixed at L1,030,000. Her
Majesty's civil list was fixed at L385,000 per annum, and her privy purse,
being the only sum over which she had complete personal control, and from
which her private charities had to be disbursed, was fixed at L60,000. Out
of the L385,000 the calculation, based by order of Parliament upon the
accounts of the late reign, was that L131,260 would go for salaries of the
Household, from the Master of the Horse and Mistress of the Robes, down to
the humblest scullion and stable-helper; and L172,500 in tradesmen's
bills.
During the early days of her maiden reign, the Queen rose at eight,
occupied a remarkably short time in dressing, and then discharged such
routine business as signing despatches until the breakfast hour, which was
invariably a quarter before ten. At that hour, she without fail sent one
of her attendants to _invite_ the Duchess of Kent to breakfast. From the
day of her ascending the throne, to remove the slightest ground for
suspicion as to any undue influence, the strictest etiquette was preserved
between mother and daughter; the former never approaching the latter
unless specially summoned, and carefully abstaining from conversing about
the business of the State. Twelve o'clock was the time appointed for
conferences with her Ministers. After the usual complimentary salutation,
she at once proceeded to the business of the day. If a document were
handed to her, she read it without comment, and no remark passed her own
lips or those of the Ministers present, until its perusal was concluded.
After retiring from the Council-room, the interval was passed until dinner
in riding or walking. At dinner, the first Lord-in-waiting took the head
of the table; opposite to him, the chief Equerry-in-waiting. Her Majesty's
chair was half way down on the right, the various guests being seated
according to their ranks. Next to Her Majesty, on the right hand, was the
nobleman of highest degree; next to him, the Duchess of Kent, and so on.
On Her Majesty's left, the same rule was observed, the Baroness Lehzen,
who acted as Secretary to the Queen, being always near her. The Queen left
the table early for the drawing-room, where her musical tastes were
regaled almost invariably, and her own proficiency very frequently
displayed.
[Sidenote: REVERENCE FOR SUNDAY.]
The following incident, which was made public during the first year of the
Queen's reign, made a very pleasing impression upon the well-conditioned
portion of the public. A certain noble Minister arrived at Windsor at a
late hour on Saturday night. On being introduced, he said, "I have brought
down for your Majesty's inspection some documents of great importance;
but, as I shall be obliged to trouble you to examine them in detail, I
will not encroach on the time of your Majesty to-night, but will request
your attention to-morrow morning." "To-morrow morning?" repeated the
Queen; "to-morrow is Sunday, my lord." "True, your Majesty, but business
of the State will not admit of delay." "I am aware of that," replied the
Queen, "and, as your lordship could not have arrived earlier at the Palace
to-night, I will, if those papers are of such pressing importance, attend
to their contents after church to-morrow morning." So to church went the
Queen and the Court, and to church went the noble lord; when, much to his
surprise, the discourse was on the duties and obligations of the Christian
Sabbath. "How did your lordship like the sermon?" asked the Queen. "Very
much indeed, your Majesty," replied the nobleman. "Well, then," retorted
Her Majesty, "I will not conceal from you that, last night, I sent the
clergyman the text from which he preached. I hope we shall all be improved
by the sermon." The Sunday passed without a single word being said
relative to the State papers, and at night, when Her Majesty was about to
withdraw--"To-morrow morning, my lord, at any hour you please," said the
Queen, turning to the nobleman--"as early as seven, my lord, if you like,
we will look into the papers." The nobleman said that he could not think
of intruding on Her Majesty at so early an hour; he thought nine o'clock
would be quite soon enough. "No, no, my lord," said the Queen; "as the
papers are of importance, I wish them to be attended to very early.
However, if you wish it to be nine, be it so." And accordingly, the next
morning at nine, Her Majesty was seated ready to receive the nobleman and
his papers.