IT HAD been known at Kensington Palace on June 15 that the King could not live more than a few days, and all lessons were put off except Dean Davys's lectures on the Scriptures. The Princess regretted not having her singing lessons from Lablache, "but duty and proper feeling go before all pleasures." As she had already confided to her Journal she was devoted to her Coburg relations not only for themselves but because they were relations, but towards her uncles on her father's side she had no such feelings, and her honesty then, as throughout her life, quite un- -compromising, forbade her to express any sort of personal grief. She was grateful for his kindness to her and he meant it well, but: "He was odd, very odd and singular, but his intentions were often ill interpreted." There was really nothing more to say about him, and she waited, quite collected, for the end.
The King died very early on the morning of June 20, and that night Victoria recorded the most momentous event of her eighteen years: I was awoke at 6 o'clock by Mamma, who told me that the Archbishop of Canterbury and Lord Conyngham were here and wished to see me. I got out of bed and went into my sitting-room (only in my dressing- -gown) and alone, and saw them. Lord Conyngham (the Lord Chamberlain) then acquainted me that my poor Uncle, the King, was no more, and consequently that I am Queen."