The Dining Room also leads out of the Picture Gallery. This gallery itself is decorated and adorned upon classic models. The frames of the pictures are very plain, but neat, and appropriated to the style of the architecture. There is nothing gorgeous in this gallery—every thing is in good taste; and yet the mouldings and fret-work of the ceiling are of the most elaborate description. The pictures in the gallery are all originals by eminent masters, and are the private property of the sovereign.
It may be here observed that the queen is passionately attached to the Fine Arts, in which, indeed, she is a proficient. In every room of the palace there are some excellent paintings; and in each apartment occupied by the queen, with the exception of the Throne Room, there is a grand pianoforte.
With a lamp in his hand, Henry Holford proceeded through those magnificent apartments which communicated with the Picture Gallery. He was astonished at the assemblage of wealth and splendour that met his eyes on every side. From time to time he seated himself upon the softest ottomans, and in the gilded chairs—in every place where he deemed it probable that the queen might have rested. At length he reached the Throne Room. The imperial seat itself was covered over with a velvet cloth, to protect it against the dust. Holford removed the cloth; and the splendours of the throne were revealed to him.
He hesitated for a moment: he felt as if he were committing a species of sacrilege;—then triumphing over this feeling—a feeling which had appeared like a remorse—he ascended the steps of the throne;—he placed himself in the seat of England’s monarch.
Had the sceptre been there he would have grasped it;—had the crown been within his reach, he would have placed it upon his head!
But time pressed; and he was compelled to leave those apartments in which a strange and unaccountable fascination induced him to linger. He ascended a staircase leading to another storey; and now he proceeded with extreme caution, for he conceived that he must be in the immediate vicinity of the royal sleeping apartments. He hastened up to the highest storey he could reach, and entered several passages from which doors opened on either side. One of these doors was ajar: the light of a lamp in the passage enabled him to ascertain that the chamber into which it led was full of old furniture, trunks, boxes, bedding, and other lumber. This was precisely the place which suited the adventurous pot-boy; and he hastened to conceal himself amidst a pile of mattresses which formed a secure, warm, and comfortable berth.
Here he again fell asleep; and when he awoke the sun was shining brightly. He partook of his provisions with a good appetite, and then deliberated within himself what course he should pursue. He felt madly anxious to be near the person of the queen once more: he longed to hear her voice again;—he resolved to risk every thing to gratify these inclinations.
He began to understand that the vast extent of the palace, and the many different ways of reaching the various floors and suites of apartments, constituted the elements of his safety, and greatly diminished the risk of encountering any of the inmates of the royal dwelling. He was insane enough, moreover, to believe that some good genius or especial favour of fortune protected him; and these impressions were sufficiently powerful to induce him to attempt any fresh enterprise within the walls of the palace.
While he was debating within himself how he should proceed in order to satisfy his enthusiastic curiosity, the door suddenly opened, and two female servants of the royal household entered the lumber-room.
Holford’s heart sank within him: his limbs seemed paralysed; his breath failed him.
“The entertainment takes place in the Yellow and Roman Drawing Rooms this evening,” said one.
“The prince is expected at five o’clock,” observed the other. “He and his father the Duke of Saxe Coburg Gotha, are to land at Woolwich between two and three.”
“So I heard. The royal carriages have already left to meet her Majesty’s guests.”
“Have you ever seen the prince?”
“Once. He was in England, I remember, a short time previous to the accession of her Majesty.”
“Is he good looking?”
“Very. Of course you believe as I do, and as every one else does that Prince Albert of Saxe Coburg will——”
“Soon be Prince Albert of England.”
“Hush! walls have ears!”
The servants having discovered the article of furniture which was the object of their search, left the room—greatly to the relief of Henry Holford, whose presence they never for a moment suspected.
Holford had thus accidentally learnt some information which served to guide his plans. The evening’s entertainment was to take place in the Yellow Drawing Room—an apartment which he could not fail to recognise by the colour, as one which he had visited before day-break that morning. He had heard of Prince Albert, whom rumour had already mentioned as the happy being who had attracted the queen’s favour. Every circumstance now lent its aid to induce the enthusiastic lad to resolve upon penetrating into the Yellow Drawing Room, by some means or another, during the afternoon.
It struck the intruder that if the queen intended to receive company in the Yellow Drawing-room in the evening, she would most probably welcome her illustrious guests from Germany in some other apartment. He knew, from the conversation of the two female servants, that the Grand Duke of Saxe-Coburg Gotha and Prince Albert, were to arrive at five; he presumed that the inmates of the palace would assemble in those points where they could command a view of the ducal cortège; and he came to the conclusion that the coast would be most clear for his purposes at five o’clock.
Nor was he wrong in his conjectures; for scarcely had two minutes elapsed after the clock had proclaimed the hour of five, when Henry Holford was safely ensconced beneath a sofa in the Yellow Drawing Room.
At eight o’clock the servants entered and lighted the lamps. The colour of the paper and the satin of the furniture enhanced the splendour of the effulgence thus created in that magnificent saloon.
At half-past nine the door opened again and Holford’s heart beat quickly, for he now expected the appearance of the sovereign and her guests. But, no—not yet. Two ladies attached to the court, entered the drawing-room, and seated themselves upon the sofa beneath which Holford lay concealed.
“Well—what think you of the young prince?” said one. “Your grace was seated next to him.”
“Very handsome—and so unassuming,” was the reply.
“Does your grace really believe that her Majesty is smitten?”
“No doubt of it. How fortunate for the family of the Grand Duke of Saxe-Coburg!”
“Yes—fortunate on the score of alliance.”
“And in a pecuniary point of view.”
“Not so much as your grace thinks. There has been an absurd report in circulation that the grand duke’s revenues are so small, none of his family could venture to appear at the court of Vienna: and also, that the means of education for the younger branches were always excessively restricted.”
“And are not these reports correct, countess?”
“By no means. Your grace probably is aware that the earl and myself visited Germany the year before last; and we remained six weeks at Gotha. The Duke of Saxe-Coburg possesses a considerable civil list, and a large private fortune. His brother Ferdinand espoused the wealthy Princess Kohary of Hungary; and another brother, Leopold, married our lamented Princess Charlotte. It has been stated that Prince Leopold himself was a simple major in the Austrian service, with nothing but his pay, when he was fortunate enough to obtain the favour of the Princess Charlotte: this is so far from being correct, that he never was in the Austrian service at all, but was a general officer in the Russian army, enjoying, in addition to his full pay, a princely allowance from his country.”
“Your ladyship has greatly pleased me with these elucidations.”
“Your grace honours me with this mark of satisfaction. Prince Albert was educated at Bonn, on the Rhine. His mental qualifications are said to be of a very high order; his disposition is amiable; and he has obtained the affections of all who know him in Germany.”
“It is to be hoped that her most gracious Majesty will enjoy a long, prosperous, and happy reign,” said the duchess, in a tone of unfeigned sincerity.
“Long and prosperous it may be,” returned the countess, with a strange solemnity of voice and manner; “but happy for her—happy for the sovereign whom we all so much love,—no—that is impossible!”
“Alas! I know to what you allude,” observed the duchess, her tone also changing. “Merciful heavens! is there, then, no perfect happiness in this world?”
“Where shall perfect happiness be found?” exclaimed the countess, in a voice of deep melancholy, and with a profound sigh. “Never did any sovereign ascend the throne under more favourable circumstances than Victoria. Enshrined in a nation’s heart—beloved by millions of human beings—wearing the proudest diadem in the universe, and swaying the sceptre of a dominion extensive as that of Rome, in her most glorious days,—oh! why should not Victoria be completely happy? Alas! she can command the affections of her people by her conduct:—the valour of her subjects, the prowess of her generals, and the dauntless courage of her admirals, can preserve her empire from all encroachment—all peril;—wealth can surround her with every luxury, and all the potentates of the earth may seek her friendship;—but no power—no dominion—no wealth—no luxury—no love, can exterminate the seeds——”
“Ah! countess—for God’s sake, talk not in this manner!” ejaculated the duchess: “you make me melancholy—so melancholy, that I shall be dispirited the entire evening.”
“Pardon me, my dear friend; but I know not how our discourse gradually turned upon so sad a subject. And yet the transition must have been natural,” added the countess, in a mournful and plaintive voice; “for, most assuredly, I should not have voluntarily sought to converse upon so sad a theme.”
“Sad!” cried the duchess; “it is sufficient to make one’s heart bleed. To think that a young creature whom millions and millions of beings idolize and adore—whose name is upon every lip—whose virtues and qualifications are the theme of every pen—whose slightest wish amounts to a command,—oh! to think that this envied and amiable being should be haunted, day and night—alone, or when surrounded by all that is most noble or most lovely in England’s aristocracy,—haunted by that dread fear—that appalling alarm—that dismal apprehension;—oh! it is intolerable!”
“Alas!” said the countess; “what poor—what miserable creatures are we! The hand of the Deity mingles gall with the cup of nectar which is drunk by his elect! There is no situation in life without its vexations.”
“Yes—vexations of all kinds!” echoed the duchess; “for those annoyances which are mere trifles to the lower classes, are grievous afflictions to us. But——”
At that moment the time-piece upon the mantel proclaimed the half-hour after ten; and the two ladies rose from the sofa, observing to each other, that it was time to hasten to attend upon the person of their royal mistress. They then withdrew.
It may be supposed that Holford had not lost one word of the above conversation. He had greedily drunk in every word;—but the concluding portion of it had filled him with the most anxious curiosity, and with wonder. To what did those dark, mysterious hints bear reference? And how could the happiness of the sovereign be incomplete? Those two noble ladies had detailed all the elements of felicity which formed the basis of the queen’s position; and surely sufficient had been enumerated to prove the perfection of her happiness. And yet, allusion was made to one source of perpetual fear—one cause of unmixed alarm—one object of ever-present dread, by which the queen was haunted on all occasions. What could this be? Conjecture was vain—imagination could suggest nothing calculated to explain this strange mystery.
Shortly after eleven o’clock the doors were thrown open, and the royal train made its appearance. On the queen’s right hand walked Prince Albert, the sovereign leaning gently upon his arm. He was dressed in a court-garb, and wore a foreign order upon his breast. Of slight form and slender make, his figure was wanting in manliness; but his deportment was graceful. His eyes beamed kindness; and there was something peculiarly sweet and pleasant in his smile. His countenance was expressive of intellect; his conversation was amusing. He was evidently a very pleasant companion; and when Victoria and Albert walked down the saloon together, there appeared a certain fitness in their union which was calculated to strike the most common beholder.
The queen and the prince seated themselves upon the sofa beneath which the pot-boy was concealed; and their conversation was plainly overheard by him. The noble and beauteous guests—the lords and the ladies of the court—withdrew to a distance; and the royal lovers—for such already were Victoria and Albert—enjoyed the pleasures of a tête-à-tête. We shall not record any portion of their discourse—animated, interesting, and tender though it were: suffice it to say, that for a short time they seemed to forget their high rank, and to throw aside the trammels of court etiquette, in order to give vent to those natural feelings which the sovereign has in common with the peasant.
This tête-à-tête lasted for nearly an hour; music and dancing then ensued; and the entertainment continued until two o’clock in the morning.
The company retired—the lights were extinguished in the state apartments—and profound silence once more reigned throughout the palace.
Holford paid another visit to the larder, and then retraced his steps unobserved to the lumber-room, where he slept until a late hour in the morning.
CHAPTER LX.
REVELATIONS.
FROM the very first moment that Victoria was called to the throne, she manifested a strict determination to exact a scrupulous observance of all the rules, regulations, and precedents which related to court-etiquette and official dignity. The Presence Chamber is never entered by any one who is not fully conversant with the laws of the court, and the mode of conduct and demeanour which they enforce. The rigid maintenance of these rules is nevertheless calculated to render the queen an isolated being, as it were, amidst her court; for no one is permitted to commence a conversation nor make a remark until first addressed by her Majesty. Then every word must be so measured—every syllable so weighed, that the mere fact of conversing with royalty would be deemed a complete labour, and even a perilous undertaking by those not conversant with the routine of a court.
Holford had seen much to surprise and astonish him. The image of the queen ever haunted his imagination: her voice ever rang in his ears. He disliked Prince Albert: that low, vulgar, uneducated, despised, obscure pot-boy, entertained a feeling of animosity,—he scarcely knew wherefore—against the young German who was evidently destined to become the husband of England’s queen. Again and again did he ponder upon the mysterious conversation between the two ladies of the court, which he had overheard;—and he felt an ardent and insuperable longing to fathom their meaning to the bottom. But how was this to be done? He determined to obtain access to the drawing-room once more, and trust to the chapter of accidents to elucidate the mystery.
Accordingly, he contrived that same afternoon, to obtain access to the royal apartments, without detection, once more; and once more, also, did he conceal himself beneath the sofa. Fortune appeared to favour his views and wishes. Not many minutes had elapsed after he had ensconced himself in his hiding-place, when the two ladies, whose conversation had so much interested him on the preceding day, slowly entered the Yellow Drawing-Room.
The following dialogue then took place:—
“How very awkward the viscount was last evening, my dear duchess. He would insist upon turning the pages for me when I sate at the grand pianoforte;
and he was always too soon or too late; although he pretended to read the fantasia which I played, bar by bar.”
“That is very provoking!” said the duchess. “I believe there is to be a Drawing-Room to-morrow, at St. James’s?”
“Yes: your grace must have forgotten that her Majesty decided last evening upon holding one.”
“How many a young heart is fluttering now with anxiety and eager anticipation of to-morrow!” observed the duchess. “A Drawing-Room is most formidable to the novice in court affairs. But the most entertaining portion of the embarrassment of the novice, is the fear that the gentleman who bears the name of the Court Circular, and who is invariably stationed in the Presence Chamber, may omit to mention her presence in the report which he draws up for the newspapers.”
“George the Third and his consort held Drawing-Rooms weekly, for many years,” said the countess. “George the Fourth held Drawing-Rooms but very seldom. William and Adelaide usually held about five or six in a season. And, after all, what can be more magnificent—what more eminently calculated to sustain the honour and dignity of the crown,[136] than a British Court Drawing-Room? The tasteful dresses of the ladies—the blaze of diamonds—the waving ostrich plumes and lappets—the gold net—the costly tulle, constitute rather the characteristics of an oriental fiction than the reality of the present day.”
“The most magnificent Drawing-Rooms, in my opinion,” observed the duchess, “are those which we call Collar Days. The appearance of the Knights of the Garter, St. Patrick, the Thistle, the Cross of Bath, and all English orders, in their respective collars and jewels, in the presence of the sovereign, is splendid in the extreme.”
The Mysteries of London Volume 1 Page 62
