It was fear of this bogie of a Cumberland that made
the English people anxious for the early marriage
of the Queen, and yet caused them to dread it, for
the fate of poor Princess Charlotte had not been forgotten.
But I do not think that political or dynastic questions
had much to do with the popularity of the young Queen.
It was the resurrection of the dead dignity of the
Royal House of Brunswick, in her fair person—the
resuscitation of the half-dead principle of loyalty
in the hearts of her people. Of her Majesty’s
subjects of the better class, actors and quakers alone
seem to have taken her accession with all its splendid
accessions, coolly,—the former, perhaps,
because much mock royalty had somehow cheapened the
real thing, and the latter because trained from infancy
to disregard the pomps and show of this world.
Macready jots down among the little matters in his
“Diary,” the fact of Her Majesty coming
to his theatre, and waiting awhile after the play
to see him and congratulate him. He speaks of
her as “a pretty little girl,” and does
not seem particularly “set up” by her
compliments. Joseph Sturge, the eminent and most
lovable philanthropist of Birmingham,—a
“Friend indeed” to all “in need,”—waited
on Her Majesty, soon after her accession, as one of
a delegation of the Society of Friends. Some
years after, he related the circumstance to me, and
simply described her to me as “a nice, pleasant,
modest young woman,—graceful, though a little
shy, and on the whole, comely.”
“Did you kiss her hand?” I asked.
“O yes, and found that act of homage no hardship,
I assure thee. It was a fair, soft, delicate little
hand.”
I afterwards regretted that I had not asked him what
he did with his broad-brimmed hat when he was about
to be presented, knowing that the principles of Fox
and Penn forbade his removing that article in homage
to any human creature; but I have just discovered
in a volume of Court Records, that “the deputation
from the Society of Friends, commonly called Quakers,
were uncovered, according to custom, by the Yeoman
of the Guard.” As they were all non-resistants,
they doubtless bore the indignity passively and placidly.
Moreover, they all bowed, if they did not kneel, before
the throne on which their Queen was seated, and as
I said kissed her hand, in token of their friendly
fealty.
In June, 1838, were issued the first gold sovereigns,
bearing the head of the Queen—the same
spirited young head that we see now on all the modern
gold and silver pieces of the realm. That on the
copper is a little different, but all are pretty—so
pretty that Her Majesty’s loyal subjects prefer
them to all other likenesses, even poor men feeling
that they cannot have too many of them.
CHAPTER XII.
The Coronation.
The coronation was fixed for June 28, 1838 a little
more than a year from the accession.
Copyrights
Queen Victoria, her girlhood and womanhood from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
