by Roland Perry
The king made a point of arriving at Windsor at the end of dinner. He was ill. He had not slept well of late and asthma attacks were taking a toll, yet his miserable health did not prevent him from walking straight to Victoria. Taking both of her hands, he told her how good it was to see her, and that he regretted not being able to make her acquaintance more often.The king then bowed to the duchess, low enough to be seen as cynicism, and then proceeded to complain loudly about the ‘most unwarranted liberty’ taken in the overuse of Kensington apartments, to which he had not consented, yet he was bothered more by what was going on inside those rooms: the abuse of his beloved niece.
The next night the birthday banquet was held in his honour.There were 100 guests, including Elphinstone. At one point at the pre-dinner drinks, Victoria was standing with the duchess and he was near. He wheeled over to them and went to take the duchess’s hand but she withdrew it and turned away. As she did, Elphinstone moved close to Victoria, took her hand and kissed it, his lips lingering.Victoria’s heart skipped a beat and not even the vicious look from her mother could erase the feeling as Elphinstone moved off to his seat at the long dining table. He was four places away from the king, who was directly opposite Victoria with the duchess on one side of him and one of his sisters on the other. The tension from the intrigues of the rival royal households swirled around the dinner table.
After the meal, the queen toasted the king. He rose to his feet to begin a long and rambling speech, some of it reaching a crescendo of angry indignation. A few minutes into it, he stiffened, paused and said: ‘I trust in God that my life may be spared for nine months longer’—when Victoria would turn eighteen—‘after which period, in the event of my death, no regency would take place. I should then have the satisfaction of leaving the royal authority to the personal exercise of that young lady—’ the king gestured to Victoria, ‘the heiress presumptive of the crown, and not in the hands of a person now near me.’ He paused. The room was dead silent. He was referring to the duchess, who stared straight ahead, in shock. ‘She is surrounded by evil advisers and is herself incompetent to act with propriety in the station in which she would be placed.’
At this point, the king was losing his temper. His shallow breath made his words shrill. ‘I have no hesitation in saying that I have been insulted—grossly and continually—by that person, but I am determined to endure no longer a course of behaviour so disrespectful to me.’
There was no movement along the dining table. He paused.Victoria looked close to tears.
‘I have particularly to complain of the manner in which that young lady—’ King William nodded to Victoria, ‘has been kept away from my court; she has repeatedly been kept from my drawing rooms, at which she ought to have been present . . .I shall insist and command that the princess do upon all occasions appear at my court as it is her duty to do.’
This reference electrified the atmosphere further for those aware of, or who had heard rumours of, her affection for Elphinstone, who spent much time in King William’s court when not with the Horse Guards or in the House of Lords. The king was attempting to give her the chance to see her lover when her mother and Conroy had forbidden her to see him.
King William calmed himself after this airing of long-held frustration. He glanced with a kindly expression again in Victoria’s direction and ended his speech with affectionate remarks about her and hopes for her reign. He sat down and turned to the queen. She was distressed.Victoria was in tears. The duchess’s shock became anger. She announced she was leaving right away and called for her carriage. But other guests, including the queen, first mollified the duchess then persuaded her to stay the night as planned. The tension between the two royal households had peaked.
Lord Melbourne, the aristocratic Whig, in his second stint as prime minister, was a shrewd manipulator of power who used diplomacy instinctively where he could. He was now aware of the royal crisis, which centred on the princess’s determination to marry Elphinstone. The king’s birthday speech outburst had brought the problem close to the surface. King Leopold complained to Melbourne that he should do something about Elphinstone. He had more than a vested interest in having him removed from the court. Apart from the main issue of Elphinstone interfering in Leopold’s efforts to marry off his nephew Albert to Victoria, Leopold did not like the Scot’s close friendship with his main rival and ‘enemy’, William, the Prince of Orange. Leopold and William had been rivals for the hand of Princess Charlotte of Wales, who once had been the heir-presumptive for the British throne. Leopold had won that competition. But a more intense battle between them took place over Holland and Belgium after the allied powers that had defeated Napoleon had united these two provinces into the Kingdom of the Netherlands in 1815. The Prince of Orange’s father (also William) became the Netherlands’ first king. The Belgians were never overjoyed with the arrangement. The second French revolution, in July 1830, sparked a reaction among the disgruntled Belgians. They broke away from Holland. Leopold became the Belgian king, and the ill-feeling between him and the Dutch, particularly William, Prince of Orange, was exacerbated.
By the early 1830s, Prince William regarded Elphinstone as his closest friend. He suggested they travel to St Petersburg together, with Elphinstone as his aide-de-camp, to curry favour with the Russians in their struggles with Belgium.The trip fell through but the friendship was cemented. It was noted by Leopold, who took a dislike to Elphinstone, and the affair with Victoria created another reason for Leopold urging Melbourne to act against the Scot. Removing him from the English court was not enough. Leopold suggested he be exiled.
With the king ailing and close to death, Lord Melbourne called Elphinstone to a special meeting at his office. The prime minister had to resolve the problem of Victoria and her fixation about her true love. Melbourne was as diplomatic as possible when pointing out the issue over the princess.
‘It is so serious,’ Melbourne told him,‘this rift in the royal household. If something isn’t done to ease the situation it will make her early reign intolerable and perhaps even inoperable. It will be hard enough for someone so young to be monarch in any case. If she is unsettled by relationships, it will make her miserable. She could never concentrate.’
Might it not be better, Melbourne suggested, that Elphinstone take an official posting outside the country for a time until Victoria settled into her coming role.
‘Where?’ Elphinstone asked.
‘We were thinking of Madras.We want to offer you the presidency.’
This sudden ‘offer’ was somewhere between a shock and a surprise for the thirteenth lord. It was a clever proposition. Elphinstone’s uncle, Mountstuart Elphinstone, had been the first British envoy to the court of Kabul, Afghanistan, in 1808, and later was Governor of Bombay in 1819. He had held this post with distinction for eight years, founding a state education system and making the family name very much appreciated in India.
‘How long would this appointment be?’ he asked.
‘Oh, that would depend . . .’
‘Depend on what?’
‘How you enjoyed the challenge.’
‘A year . . .?’
‘Well, my lord, it takes some four months to get to Madras, so it would practicable for it to be a little longer.’
‘Two years?’
‘It would depend on how you adapted.’
Elphinstone was given time to consider the offer, but he realised his options were limited. If he did not make himself scarce, he would be doing his beloved damage, or so the prime minister more than hinted. At a further meeting a week later, Melbourne reminded him that he would be succeeding another Elphinstone relative, Lieutenant-General Sir Frederick Adam, as governor in Madras. Adam would help him ease into the new role over several months.
Elphinstone took more time to think over the offer, which he understood would be at least a year or, as Melbourne put it to him again: ‘Just until things settled down in the feud inside the Royal Household.’
It wa
s an important move and decision. Elphinstone agreed that if he were away it would give Victoria a chance to ease into her role as queen without the internal problems that would debilitate her and perhaps render her monarchy farcical. He knew Victoria would oppose him going to Madras but may have understood that he was doing it for her. She needed all the support she could acquire at this vital time, but he was sure also that she would receive that support at court and from the government. Melbourne had demonstrated his sincere concern for her. That was one reason he was interceding with the idea of the Indian posting. Elphinstone finally put his acceptance of the job offer in writing.
The down period for Victoria before her accession to the throne continued through the second half of 1836, with the only bright moment being a visit by Leopold to Claremont in Surrey, where the Kent household stayed for five weeks. He continued his urging of a future for her with Albert. She spoke favourably of him, but demurred about a relationship. She hinted that she wished to mature before committing herself. Leopold took that to mean that Albert was a chance to win her hand. But Victoria had thoughts only for Elphinstone. Then Melbourne informed her that he would be in India for ‘about a year’.
Victoria was furious. This would have seemed to be an eternity to a teenage girl in love. A letter from Elphinstone confirmed his appointment, and kept a positive attitude, as if it was a grand opportunity for him. But he had never before mentioned any ambition to be a governor abroad.Victoria cried for a day over the letter and the thought of Elphinstone’s departure. She flew into a rage at her mother, whom she blamed above all for taking her lover from her. She tried several times to write to Elphinstone but at first found the exercise too painful and gave up, which only worsened her frustration and sadness. After a few days, she finally wrote a letter in which she implored him not to take the job. She needed all the support from those closest to her for coming events, especially when she became queen. But Elphinstone’s mind was made up.Victoria remained distressed. She went into a deep state of depression. His leaving had the same chilling feeling to her of the sense of abandonment she had when ill in late 1835.There was more bitterness now. She was nearer to being a monarch, a position that she believed would bring her the power to rescind such moves engineered by her prime minister. But for the moment, she was powerless to stop her lover fading away to a point on the map to which she had no access.
5
TRANSITION TO MONARCHY
Elphinstone had no real option apart from taking his banishment.At first being sent to India would have seemed to him as if he were receiving a kind of nobleman’s transportation.
Looking past the demise of King William, Elphinstone would face the key figures in a fresh royal court and hostile government, with Melbourne, Conroy, the duchess and King Leopold opposed to him. His situation was untenable. He would leave court by August, board a ship in October 1836 and take up his new role in India early in March 1837.The experience saddened him. Elphinstone knew he had been exiled to fulfil the ambitions of Leopold in his ‘plot’ to marry off Victoria to young Albert. With further regret, he would part with his horses, which he could not take with him. His favourite, Black Prince, would go to a most grateful and touched William, Prince of Orange. William wrote a letter to Elphinstone from The Hague on 15 October 1836 and sent it via his son Harry, who after visiting Java (controlled by the Dutch) would visit India.
‘How are you going on at Madras?’ the Prince of Orange wrote in October 1836, aware that his letter would not be delivered until well into 1837.
Can you reconcile to your present grandeur? I would above all like to pay you a visit, if such a thing was possible for a person situated as I am. [The prince was ‘trapped’ in his home country for political reasons, fearing he too might be exiled if he left.] . . .I hereby enclose to you, not a ringlet of hair of one of your forsaken and broken-hearted London beautys [sic], but of the raven main [sic] of your charger. He is in good health and spirits, a great deal admired by the Dutch, and carries me to my full satisfaction.When I see the good dear animal, I fancy I still see you on his back in Windsor Park, and I like him for your sake.
Elphinstone made cautious notes of his thoughts in his diary of the voyage. ‘I did not leave [King William’s court] without emotion after four years in which I experienced protection and kinship . . .Nor could I fail to reflect upon the change that may take place in its [Windsor] inmates before I see its towers again.’
Early in 1837, the king’s health was failing. Doctors were counting his life in weeks rather than months. He was hanging on, mainly because of the chess game to decide Victoria’s future. He felt he was losing the battles to prevent the duchess and Conroy from grabbing the power of regency, and also to direct who should be Victoria’s future husband. King William resorted to attempting a clever form of financial inducement. In April 1837, a month before Victoria’s critical eighteenth birthday, he sent her a letter in which he proposed applying to parliament for a grant of £10,000 a year. It would be hers with which to do as she pleased. He wanted her also to have the right to appoint her own Keeper of the Privy Purse, suggesting Sir Benjamin Stephenson for the post. If she accepted, it would go some way to keeping an important royal administrative position from Conroy.The letter stipulated further that the princess was to have the right to form her own household.
The lord chamberlain took the communication to Kensington but was intercepted by Conroy, who insisted that it be delivered to Victoria in her mother’s presence. The duchess was dismayed. Victoria liked the letter’s suggestion, but preferred to have her tutor, the Reverend George Davys, the Dean of Chester, as her Keeper of the Privy Purse. She also wished to have a private conversation with Melbourne about the issues raised. The duchess and Conroy would have none of it. She and Conroy penned a letter to Melbourne, intending it to be copied and signed by Victoria.
‘I wish to remain in every respect as I am now in the care of my Mother,’ it said.‘Upon the subject of money I should wish that whatever may be necessary to add, may be given to my dear Mother for my use, who always does everything I want in pecuniary matters.’
The Duchess and Conroy were tightening the grip on her with blackmail over her affair with Elphinstone. They repeated the accusations of late 1835. She was not fit to be queen; they had to be her guardians and regent.They would decide her future, even after she became queen. Another furious row ensued, with Lehzen once more siding with the princess.Victoria locked herself away for a day, but in the end relented, copied out the coerced letter and signed it.
With her birthday in sight, and the king near death, her relationship with the duchess and Conroy had reached its lowest ebb. Victoria’s sensibilities on every level had been offended. She was angry and despondent.Not only had they slighted her,they had written a false letter in her name to the king. Her young soul was not vengeful by nature, but she was developing a hatred for her mother and more particularly Conroy, whom she would never forgive for this and all the other offences against her. She did not wish her uncle to die yet she now could not wait to be queen. She wondered if she would have anyone to defend her against this family tyranny. She had met Melbourne and liked him but, because of his involvement in Elphinstone’s departure, Victoria wondered if he had the character and strength to stand up to Conroy.
King William discarded the letter, aware that it did not reflect Victoria’s true wishes. He wrote to her again, making another offer—this time £4000 for her and £6000 for the duchess. This was clumsier than the first offer. It was clear he was still trying to cut Conroy out, this time with an inducement to the duchess. She tried to consult her daughter about the matter, but the princess would not speak to her.The duchess replied bluntly to the king, rejecting the offer out of hand.
Victoria continued to be melancholic over Elphinstone’s posting. No explanation could console her. She felt more alone than ever, with Lehzen the only one left on her side. The king’s condition meant he was out of the struggle, which was effectively over.The
eviction of her lover from the court and the country meant that Conroy had won a major battle. He now sought to win the war by returning to the major points of contention and applying more pressure than ever: he wanted to be made Victoria’s private secretary, and the duchess to be created regent.
The king could not attend Victoria’s eighteenth birthday celebrations on 24 May 1837, but he did throw a ball at Kensington Palace for her and sent a gift of a stunningly carved dressing-case.
Intrigue still swirled around the party ballroom. Lehzen noted that Conroy kept an eye on her for the entire night. He was manoeuvring for his goals while Melbourne attempted to engineer a compromise. This was put to Victoria by Baron Stockmar, King Leopold’s personal physician who had been sent by an out-of-touch Leopold, and her half-brother (Charles Leiningen from the duchess’s first marriage). Stockmar, nicknamed ‘Merlin’ for his wizard-like looks and hold on the Kensington household, was looking after the interests of Leopold, who was having a two-way bet. If his sister, the duchess, became regent, he would have some link and influence, although he was most uncomfortable with the thought of Conroy having any power and control over Victoria. Leopold viewed Conroy as mephistophelian, yet the King of the Belgians was himself not above dealing with the devil if it enhanced his own situation. Stockmar was his proxy in the intrigues at Kensington, whatever the outcome of negotiations.