II

It was clear that these interior changes—­whatever else they might betoken—­marked the triumph of one person—­the Baroness Lehzen.  The pastor’s daughter observed the ruin of her enemies.  Discreet and victorious, she remained in possession of the field.  More closely than ever did she cleave to the side of her mistress, her pupil, and her friend; and in the recesses of the palace her mysterious figure was at once invisible and omnipresent.  When the Queen’s Ministers came in at one door, the Baroness went out by another; when they retired, she immediately returned.  Nobody knew—­nobody ever will know—­the precise extent and the precise nature of her influence.  She herself declared that she never discussed public affairs with the Queen, that she was concerned with private matters only—­with private letters and the details of private life.  Certainly her hand is everywhere discernible in Victoria’s early correspondence.  The Journal is written in the style of a child; the Letters are not so simple; they are the work of a child, rearranged—­with the minimum of alteration, no doubt, and yet perceptibly—­by a governess.  And the governess was no fool:  narrow, jealous, provincial, she might be; but she was an acute and vigorous woman, who had gained by a peculiar insight, a peculiar ascendancy.  That ascendancy she meant to keep.  No doubt it was true that technically she took no part in public business; but the distinction between what is public and what is private is always a subtle one; and in the case of a reigning sovereign—­as the next few years were to show—­it is often imaginary.  Considering all things—­the characters of the persons, and the character of the times—­it was something more than a mere matter of private interest that the bedroom of Baroness Lehzen at Buckingham Palace should have been next door to the bedroom of the Queen.

But the influence wielded by the Baroness, supreme as it seemed within its own sphere, was not unlimited; there were other forces at work.  For one thing, the faithful Stockmar had taken up his residence in the palace.  During the twenty years which had elapsed since the death of the Princess Charlotte, his experiences had been varied and remarkable.  The unknown counsellor of a disappointed princeling had gradually risen to a position of European importance.  His devotion to his master had been not only whole—­hearted but cautious and wise.  It was Stockmar’s advice that had kept Prince Leopold in England during the critical years which followed his wife’s death, and had thus secured to him the essential requisite of a point d’appui in the country of his adoption.  It was Stockmar’s discretion which had smoothed over the embarrassments surrounding the Prince’s acceptance and rejection of the Greek crown.  It was Stockmar who had induced the Prince to become the constitutional Sovereign of Belgium.  Above all, it was Stockmar’s tact, honesty, and diplomatic