to the young Queen was to be ardently opposed to all the works and ways of the Duke of Cumberland, to be in favor of religious liberty and toleration, to support the Reform Bill and the abolition of slavery. It was Whig to be loyal to the Queen, Tory to be, if not disloyal, full of doubts and fears, imagining that with a young girl at the helm, known to be in sympathy with Whig principles, the ship of State was bound to split on anarchy and popery. These fears very soon disappeared as the Queen showed she had a mind and will of her own, and was no mere puppet in the hands of her Ministers. If at the outset of her reign she showed strong Whig tendencies, she was not long in grasping the fact that, as Sovereign, she was Queen of the whole people, and not the mere head of a party.

There was, however, enough of revolutionary storm in the atmosphere to justify the Times in endeavoring to allay the fears of the ultra-Protestant party by reminding them that for the Queen to turn Papist, "or in any manner to follow the footsteps of the Coburg family" in marrying a Papist, "would involve an immediate forfeiture of the British Crown." This situation of affairs had the rather curious result of making the Irish among the most intensely loyal of the young Queen's subjects. O'Connell's stentorian voice was heard leading the cheers of the crowd outside St. James's Palace on the day she was proclaimed Queen. He declared later, in a public speech, that if it were necessary he could get "five hundred thousand brave Irishmen to defend the life, the honor, and the person of the beloved young lady by whom England's throne is now filled." Mr. Harry Grattan, son of the famous orator of the Irish Parliament of 1782-1800, thought the Tories so bent on the Queen's destruction that "If Her Majesty were once placed in the hands of the Tories, I would not give an orange-peel for her

life." The expression "orange-peel" was, no doubt, a reference to the soubriquet his Irish opponents had bestowed upon Sir Robert Peel on account of his stanch Protestantism.

These extraordinary ebullitions of party feeling would be hardly worth recording but for the explanation they afford of subsequent events relating to the establishment of Prince Albert, and for the curious contrast they offer to the feelings of political parties at the present time. They also explain why quiet, peace-loving people, taking no special interest in party politics, were so devoutly thankful that the operation of the Salic law in Hanover separated that kingdom from the Crown of England and enabled us to get quit of the Duke of Cumberland. No paper and no party ever pretended to regret him; indeed, it must have become abundantly obvious that his departure was, in a special degree, advantageous to his own party. He could be nothing but a source of weakness to them. "A man's foes are those of his own household " is even more true of political than of private affairs. The anxiety of the Tories to get rid of the Duke of Cumberland is well illustrated by one of Greville's anecdotes. When the late King (William IV.) had evidently only a few days to live, the Duke of Cumberland consulted the Duke of Wellington as to what he should do. "I told him the best thing he could do was to go away as fast as he could. 'Go instantly,' I said, and take care you don't get pelted.' He did go instantly, and his first act as King of Hanover was to suspend the constitution of the country and turn out of their chairs in Göttingen University seven distinguished professors for the crime of holding Liberal opinions. No wonder the Duke of Wellington felt this sort of Toryism would manufacture Liberals and Radicals by the thousand in England.

The story has often been told of how the Queen received the news of her accession, and of the extraordinarily favorable impression she produced by the youthful dignity and grace with which she presided at her first Council.

William IV. expired at Windsor about 2.30 a. M. on Tuesday, June 20th, 1837. The Archbishop of Canterbury, Dr. Howley, and the Lord Chamberlain, the Marquis of Conyingham, almost immediately "set out to announce the event to their young Sovereign. They reached Kensington Palace at about five; they knocked, they rang, they thumped for a considerable time before they could rouse the porter at the gates. They were again kept waiting in the courtyard, then turned into one of the lower rooms, where they seemed to be forgotten by everybody. They rang the bell, and desired that the attendant of the Princess Victoria might be sent to inform H. R. H. that they requested an audience on business of importance. After another delay, and another ringing to inquire the cause, the attendant was summoned, who stated that the Princess was in such a sweet sleep she could not venture to disturb her. They then said, 6 We are coine to the Queen on business of State, and even her sleep must give way to that.' It did; and to prove that she did not keep them waiting, in a few minutes she came into the room in a loose white nightgown and shawl, her nightcap thrown off, and her hair falling on her shoulders, her feet in slippers, tears in her eyes, but perfectly collected and dignified." 1 Another account states that the Queen's first words to the Archbishop on hearing his announcement were, "I beg your Grace to pray for me," and that her first request to her mother after she had learned that she was Queen was that she might be left for two hours quite alone. On the 1 Diaries of a Lady of Quality, by Miss Wynn.

same day, about eleven o'clock in the morning, she held her first Council; and it may be noted that in Miss Wynn's account of this ceremony it is stated. that the first of her subjects who paid her homage was the Duke of Cumberland, who knelt and kissed her hand. "I suppose," says Miss Wynn, "he was not King of Hanover when he knelt to her." The Diarist goes on to mention that the next to offer homage was the Duke of Sussex; but the young Queen would not allow him to kneel, but rose herself and kissed him. on the forehead. This, however, differs slightly from Greville's account of the Queen's first Council, which must be now quoted:

"June 21st. The King died at twenty minutes after two yesterday morning, and the young Queen met the Council at Kensington Palace at eleven. Never was anything like the first impression she produced, or the chorus of praise and admiration which is raised about her manner and behavior, and certainly not without justice. It was very extraordinary, and something far beyond what was looked for. Her extreme youth and inexperience, and the ignorance of the world concerning her, naturally excited intense curiosity to see how she would act on this trying occasion, and there was a considerable assemblage at the Palace, notwithstanding the short notice that was given. The first thing to be done was to teach her her lesson, which, for this purpose, Melbourne had himself to learn. I gave him the Council papers, and explained all that was to be done; and he went and explained all this to her. He asked her if she would come into the room accompanied by the great officers of State, but she said she would come in alone. When the Lords were assembled the Lord President informed them of the King's death, and suggested, as they were so numerous, that a few of them should repair to the presence of the Queen and inform her of the event, and that their Lordships were assembled in consequence; and accordingly the two Royal Dukes, the two Archbishops, the Chancellor, and Melbourne went with him. The Queen received him in the adjoining room alone. As soon as they had returned, the proclamation was read and the usual order passed, when the doors were thrown open and the Queen entered, accompanied by her two uncles, who advanced to meet her. She bowed to the Lords, took her seat, and then read her speech in a clear, distinct, and audible voice, and without any appearance of fear or embarrassment. She was quite plainly dressed, and in mourning. After she had read her speech and taken and signed the oath for the security of the Church of Scotland, the Privy Councillors were sworn, the two Royal Dukes first by themselves; and as these two old

men, her uncles, knelt before her, swearing allegiance and kissing her hand, I saw her blush up to the eyes, as if she felt the contrast between their civil and their natural relations. This was the only sign of emotion which she evinced. Her manner to them was very graceful and engaging; she kissed them both, and rose from her chair and moved towards the Duke of Sussex, who was farthest from her, and too infirm to reach her. She seemed rather bewildered at the multitude of men who were sworn, and who came, one after another, to kiss her hand; but she did not speak to anybody, nor did she make the slightest difference in her manner, or show any in her countenance to any individual of any rank, station, or party. I particularly watched her when Melbourne and the Ministers, and the Duke of Wellington and Peel approached her. She went through the whole ceremony, occasionally looking to Melbourne for instruction when she had any doubt what to do, which hardly ever occurred, and with perfect calmness and selfpossession, but at the same time with a graceful modesty and propriety particularly interesting and ingratiating. When the business was done she retired as she had entered, and I could see that nobody was in the adjoining room. . . . Peel likewise said how amazed he was at her manner and behavior, at her apparent deep sense of her situation, her modesty, and at the same time her firmness. She appeared, in fact, to be awed, but not daunted; and afterwards the Duke of Wellington told me the same thing, and added that if she had been his own daughter he could not have desired to see her perform her part better. It was settled that she was to hold a Council at St. James's this day, and be proclaimed there at ten o'clock: and she expressed a wish to see Lord Albemarle, who went to her and told her he was come to take her orders. She said, 'I have no orders to give; you know all this so much better than I do that I leave it all to you. I am to be at St. James's at ten to-morrow, and must beg you to find me a conveyance proper for the occasion.' Accordingly he went and fetched her in State with a great escort. At twelve o'clock she held a Council, at which she presided with as much ease as if she had been doing nothing else all her life; and though Lord Lansdown and my colleague had contrived between them to make some confusion with the Council papers, she was not put out by it. She looked very well, and though so small a stature, and without much pretension to beauty, the gracefulness of her manner and the good expression of her countenance give her, on the whole, a very agreeable appearance, and with her youth inspire an excessive interest in all who approach her, which I can't help feeling myself. After the Council she received the Archbishops and Bishops, and after them the Judges. They all kissed her hand, but she said nothing to any of them; very different in this from her predecessor, who used to harangue them all, and had a speech ready for everybody."

1 This is evidently in reference to the general belief that the Queen was a strong partisan of the Whig party.