Stockmar took up his abode in the Palace partly as
the emissary of King Leopold, but more particularly
as the friend and adviser of a queen who was almost
a child, and who, no doubt, would be much in need of
advice and friendship. For it would be a mistake
to suppose that either of these two men was actuated
by a vulgar selfishness. The King, indeed, was
very well aware on which side his bread was buttered;
during an adventurous and chequered life he had acquired
a shrewd knowledge of the world’s workings;
and he was ready enough to use that knowledge to strengthen
his position and to spread his influence. But
then, the firmer his position and the wider his influence,
the better for Europe; of that he was quite certain.
And besides, he was a constitutional monarch; and
it would be highly indecorous in a constitutional monarch
to have any aims that were low or personal.
As for Stockmar, the disinterestedness which Palmerston
had noted was undoubtedly a basic element in his character.
The ordinary schemer is always an optimist; and Stockmar,
racked by dyspepsia and haunted by gloomy forebodings,
was a constitutionally melancholy man. A schemer,
no doubt, he was; but he schemed distrustfully, splenetically,
to do good. To do good! What nobler end
could a man scheme for? Yet it is perilous to
scheme at all.
With Lehzen to supervise every detail of her conduct,
with Stockmar in the next room, so full of wisdom
and experience of affairs, with her Uncle Leopold’s
letters, too, pouring out so constantly their stream
of encouragements, general reflections, and highly
valuable tips, Victoria, even had she been without
other guidance, would have stood in no lack of private
counsellor. But other guidance she had; for all
these influences paled before a new star, of the first
magnitude, which, rising suddenly upon her horizon,
immediately dominated her life.
III
William Lamb, Viscount Melbourne, was fifty-eight
years of age, and had been for the last three years
Prime Minister of England. In every outward respect
he was one of the most fortunate of mankind. He
had been born into the midst of riches, brilliance,
and power. His mother, fascinating and intelligent,
had been a great Whig hostess, and he had been bred
up as a member of that radiant society which, during
the last quarter of the eighteenth century, concentrated
within itself the ultimate perfections of a hundred
years of triumphant aristocracy. Nature had given
him beauty and brains; the unexpected death of an
elder brother brought him wealth, a peerage, and the
possibility of high advancement. Within that
charmed circle, whatever one’s personal disabilities,
it was difficult to fail; and to him, with all his
advantages, success was well-nigh unavoidable.
With little effort, he attained political eminence.
On the triumph of the Whigs he became one of the leading
members of the Government; and when Lord Grey retired
Copyrights
Queen Victoria from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
