‘Albert would hate that.’
‘And what is more important, my love, so would you. What we all have to remember is that it is our duty and pleasure to serve the Queen … in whatever capacity we are called upon to do so. What are titles? Do you remember on your accession you talked about a post for me, and I said, No, let there be no post. And you replied that I should be here as your friend. How well that has worked! Let the Prince be content to be your husband. I am sure that will be the best in the end.’
And Victoria was sure that her dear Baroness was right.
* * *
At the end of April Ernest left England, and Albert was very sad to say goodbye. Victoria came into the room where they were singing the song they had sung at the University Abschied, the student’s farewell.
Victoria sat down quietly and listened, the tears in her eyes.
‘You won’t be so very far away, dear Ernest,’ she said. ‘You must visit us … often.’
Albert said little; he was too moved for words.
‘You see,’ Ernest explained, ‘we have spent so much of our lives together.’
Victoria could always understand affection and she nodded; but Albert turned abruptly away and looked out of the window.
When Ernest left, Albert stood at the window watching his carriage until it could no longer be seen. She came and stood beside him, slipping her arm through his, but he took no notice of her. She believed he did not even know that she was there.
Her compassion changed to a slight irritation. After all she was his wife and surely a wife came before a brother.
* * *
After Ernest’s departure Albert felt very lonely. He reviewed the situation as calmly as he could. Victoria was in love with him – more so than he was with her, although he had an affection for her. Perhaps she was more capable of affection than he was – but what sort of affection was it? Demonstrative certainly, but how deep did it go, when she would not give him an opportunity of sharing her state duties although she knew how passionately he wished it? Following Baron Stockmar’s advice he was studying politics and this only made him the more bitter because he was discovering what a fascinating study it was and he would have delighted in sharing it with Victoria.
He felt alone in a strange land, now that his father and brother had left. He had Baron Stockmar of course and his friendship with Sir Robert Peel was growing. He and the Queen had not discussed Sir Robert since the tea-cup incident and he knew very well that she would disapprove of the connection. It was a very unhappy state of affairs.
And there was now no denying that the English disliked him. He was a German; he spoke English with an unmistakable accent; his manners were formal; he was solemn; he had no social graces; he found it difficult to be at ease in company and particularly the company of women. Even his looks were not those admired in England because, as the English said, they were not manly enough.
It was not only the people who disliked him. The royal family over whom he had been given precedence on Victoria’s royal decree were angry over this. Why, asked the royal Dukes and their wives, should this upstart German princeling come before they did on all state occasions?
The Cambridges were particularly incensed because they had hoped that Victoria would marry their son George. George had spent a great deal of his childhood at Windsor with King William and Queen Adelaide because his parents were abroad and both the King and Queen would have liked to see a match between George and Victoria. This had given the Cambridges great hope but the Duchess of Kent and King Leopold had thought otherwise and Victoria’s preference had certainly been for her Coburg cousin. Albert was beautiful; George Cambridge was an odious boy with a shocking complexion. That was her description of him; so the Cambridges sought to make life difficult for Albert.
When Victoria heard that the Duchess of Cambridge had remained seated while Albert’s health was drunk she was furious.
‘How dare she!’ she cried to Lehzen. ‘It is an insult to the Crown.’
‘I suppose she feels that the Prince – apart from his connection with Your Majesty – is below her in precedence.’
‘But the Prince is my husband.’ Angry lights flashed in Victoria’s eyes and Lehzen was quick to realise that she must be very careful when discussing the Prince, for determined as Victoria was to suffer no interference as the Queen, she was at the same time in love with her husband.
‘Of course,’ soothed the Baroness, ‘the Duchess behaved very badly.’
‘I should think so,’ retorted Victoria, ‘and I shall show my displeasure by not asking them to my next ball so that everyone will know how annoyed I am.’
Albert was very much aware of the slights and insults, but if Victoria would let him share her duties people would begin to respect him.
* * *
If only people would not be so tiresome, thought Victoria, everything could be wonderful. She had a husband whom she adored; she had a Prime Minister who was her very dearest friend and whom she trusted absolutely; she had darling Daisy who was as a mother to her; and she was the Queen. But Albert wanted to share her throne – and that was something she could not allow, for after all she was the Queen and he was only a prince from a small German dukedom; that horrid Sir Robert Peel was trying to oust Lord Melbourne who was really very lackadaisical about it and seemed to accept the fact that a Tory Ministry was inevitable; and now dear Lehzen had taken a dislike to Albert and he to her.
How very irritating – and so foolish of them! No wonder she lost her temper with them now and then. And there were the newspapers who were always thinking up unpleasant things to say about her and Albert – and what was worse and so shocked Albert – coarse things. And the people didn’t like him; they were always referring to him as ‘the German’. All these irritations – not to mention the family who didn’t like him, all except Mama of course, who doted on him and whom Albert was constantly visiting. Why did Albert have to be so contrary by forming a friendship with the Duchess and showing animosity to the Baroness, when she would have so much preferred it to be the other way round?
The uncles had hated Albert from the start when there had been all that fuss about precedence. Uncle Cumberland fortunately was safe in Hanover but he made his presence felt and was always thundering forth about his rights and what belonged to him. He was furious really because he had not become King of England, which he would have done of course if the English law had been like that of some countries which precluded women from mounting the throne.
And now Uncle Cambridge – probably annoyed because she had not invited him and his Duchess to her last ball, had made a really coarse remark about her and Albert at a banquet.
Albert hated banquets and she was always afraid that he would go to sleep over them. Often she had found it necessary to prod him during some entertainment. On this occasion Albert had seized an opportunity to leave a banquet early, not realising she supposed that the speeches had not been made. And when Uncle Cambridge made his speech he said that the Prince had left because he was so anxious to get home to spend the night with a very fine girl.
Albert was horrified when he heard this because the report said that the guests had all roared with laughter at the Duke’s comment – coarse laughter.
‘This sort of remark is obscene,’ said Albert.
Previously Victoria would have been rather pleased that her uncle should have said that Albert was so anxious to return to her that he had left the banquet early, but Albert’s disgust made her see it through his eyes.
‘It cheapens us,’ said Albert. ‘It creates obscene images in the minds of the people.’
Of course, thought Victoria, it needed someone as pure as Albert to show how disgusting people could be.
She was furious with her Uncle Cambridge and the whole family.
‘It is all because he wanted me to marry George Cambridge,’ she said.
‘They will always chatter in this way about us,’ said Albert sadly, ‘and the more so I t
hink because I am only permitted to share the emotional side of your life.’
So they were back with the old controversy.
It seemed to Victoria that only with Lord Melbourne could she settle down to a cosy companionship.
* * *
She often thought of the old days when she and Lord Melbourne had been so important to each other. In fact if a day passed without her seeing her Prime Minister she had felt really miserable; and she used to hate it when he dined at Lady Holland’s house for instance. She had several times told him that she could not understand what he saw in the woman and that she had a really vulgar mouth. Lord Melbourne always laughed at what he called her ‘choleric outbursts and displays of the royal temper’; and very soon had her laughing with him.
He was now very happy that she was contented with her marriage (but perhaps she was not entirely contented, though she would be if Albert could be induced not to attempt to interfere) and he often told her so. But it did mean that her relationship with Lord Melbourne had changed a little. He was not quite so important to her, and perhaps she did stress a little too often that he would always be one of her dearest friends.
But in spite of the fact that things had changed and Lord Melbourne was showing his age a little he could still amuse her more easily than anyone else. Lord Melbourne loved to gossip and he knew so many interesting things about people. Albert, on the other hand, thought gossip demeaning. Albert was right of course. Oh, dear Albert was so good that he did dislike quite a lot of the things that had once seemed good fun – dancing, staying up late, gossiping about people. Compared with Albert, Lord Melbourne was really a little wicked … or would have seemed so if she did not know that he was such a good kind man. Albert would say she was not being logical; but the fact remained that she did enjoy those sessions alone with Lord Melbourne in the blue closet when he would discuss China or Canada – which diversely situated countries were giving cause for concern at this time – and then switch to something quite frivolous in a way which in the past she had found so diverting and delightful – and still did.
It was Lord Melbourne who first brought her the news about Lord William Russell who had been found murdered in his house where he lived alone – apart from numerous servants of course.
‘It is very mysterious,’ said Lord Melbourne, settling comfortably in his chair for a cosy chat. ‘Lord William was found in his bed, cold and stiff, so he had been dead some time. The bed was deluged with blood. His throat was cut so that his head was almost severed from his body.’
‘How very shocking.’
‘The details are too horrible for me to impart to Your Majesty,’ said Lord Melbourne. ‘Such affairs are best forgotten.’
‘Oh, no,’ said the Queen, ‘I want to hear all. Poor Lord William, and what a sad shock for poor Lord John. How very tragic! It only seems a short time since poor Lady John died and left all those dear little children.’
Victoria was apprehensive thinking of Lady John, who had died in childbirth. It was certain now that she herself was pregnant and she was beginning to feel the effects. This in itself was endurable but when she thought of the actual event and what happened to poor Lady John she could be really frightened.
Lord Melbourne, who understood so much in what direction her thoughts were running, went back to the murder – a safer subject than child-bearing.
‘They think that thieves entered by the back door and that when they were in Lord William’s bedroom he awakened and disturbed them. Hence they cut his throat. The maid discovered Lord William’s body in the morning. No one heard anything during the night.’
‘I do hope they catch these wicked people. Poor, poor Lord John.’
‘Oh, don’t feel too sorry for him. I believe he is very interested in Lady Fanny Elliot.’
‘What, Lord Minto’s daughter?’
‘His second daughter. The fact that Minto is First Lord of the Admiralty has meant that little Johnny has been frequently visiting Minto’s house. It’s clear that he is becoming very interested in Lady Fanny.’
‘How old is she?’
‘About twenty-five.’
‘Little Johnny must be twice her age.’
‘Yes, but it would be an excellent arrangement. Everyone cannot have a handsome young Prince for a husband, you know.’
‘Of course they can’t, and Johnny will be able to look after her and she will be able to look after all the children.’
‘Exactly!’
‘I feel a little protective towards Albert, being three months older than he is.’
‘And his sovereign. A sovereign should always feel protective towards her subjects.’
‘Is a husband a subject?’
‘We are all Your Majesty’s subjects.’
‘It is difficult to regard husbands in that light.’
With his usual understanding Lord Melbourne agreed that it was.
‘I shall be very pleased to hear that Little Johnny is happy again.’
‘Oh, so far it is only a conjecture.’
The Queen burst into that loud laughter which in the old days Lord Melbourne had provoked so often.
‘So,’ she said with mock severity, ‘this is just a piece of Lord M gossip.’
‘It might well be that,’ agreed Lord Melbourne.
‘Well, I shall hope it is more for Johnny’s sake. When do you guess the wedding will be?’
‘He has yet to persuade the lady, don’t forget. It is rather an undertaking, a widower with six children. Not every young woman wants a ready-made family.’
Victoria laughed and then was serious suddenly.
‘Lord Melbourne, you know there will in due course be an addition to our family.’
Lord Melbourne bowed his head.
‘Albert thinks we should make an announcement. He is so delighted, you see.’
‘We are all delighted,’ said Lord Melbourne, ‘but I believe Your Majesty would think it more dignified to allow this good news to come out gradually.’
‘I do. I shall tell Albert that that is how it shall be.’
Oh, yes, there was no doubt that she enjoyed her sessions in the blue closet with Lord Melbourne. If Albert were present – as she really believed he hoped he might be – it would not be quite the same. She did not want change and these delightful encounters could be spoilt by the fall of Lord Melbourne’s government, his replacement by Sir Robert Peel, and the intrusion of Albert.
* * *
‘Albert,’ said the Queen, ‘we shall make no announcement. The news will be known soon enough.’
‘I think this is not good,’ said Albert seriously.
‘Oh, my dear love, Lord Melbourne and I have decided that it would be most undignified to mention the matter yet.’
Albert was silent.
‘Albert, you are not sulking?’
‘Sulking? Why should you think that?’
‘Well, clearly because you wish an announcement to be made.’
‘Oh, I understand by now that my wishes are of no account.’
‘How can you say such a thing?’
‘Because it is true.’
‘But you know, Albert, I always wish to please you.’
Albert raised his eyebrows. ‘No, I did not know this. In fact I thought the opposite. So much that I wish is ignored.’
‘Now you are being difficult.’ The royal temper was beginning to rise.
‘If being difficult is stating the truth then that is so.’
‘Albert, where are you going?’
‘I am going out.’
‘But we are in the middle of a conversation.’
‘This conversation is over.’
‘I do not consider it so.’
‘But you must realise that it is. I wish an announcement to be made. The Queen and her Prime Minister do not. Therefore the matter is settled.’
Albert clicked his heels, bowed and went into his dressing-room.
‘Albert!’ she called; but he did not look ba
ck. ‘Come here. Come here at once.’
He did not answer. So he thought he could go out when she wished to speak to him. She strode to his door. The key was in the lock on the outside. Triumphantly she turned it. Now he would not be able to go out. That would teach him to ignore her.
She waited. Soon he would try the door and come out. She saw the handle turn slowly. Now he knew that he was locked in. She expected him to hammer on the door, to demand to be released, to beg to be released perhaps. But there was silence from the other side of the door.
She waited; she put her ear to it. She could hear nothing, but she promised herself she soon would.
She sat down on the settee in the adjoining room where the quarrel had taken place. Very soon he would begin to agitate and then she would tell him that she would let him out if he promised to be good.
Good! It seemed a strange thing to ask Albert to promise. He was good. In fact his only fault was that at times he seemed to forget that she was the Queen. As she and Lord Melbourne had agreed it was certainly very difficult to uphold one’s royalty in the family.
What a long time he was! She was growing impatient. She went again to the door, and listened. There was not a sound, so she retired and sat down again. Still nothing happened. Furiously she turned the key and opened the door. She gave a gasp of surprise for Albert was seated at the window, sketching the view.
‘Albert!’ she cried. ‘What are you doing?’
He turned to smile at her. ‘It is such a pleasant view from this window.’
She felt uncertain how to act. ‘I thought you were going out,’ she said.
‘The Queen commanded otherwise.’
She turned away angrily but a few minutes later she was back.
She looked at the sketch and said: ‘It’s very good.’
‘I will present it to you when it is finished,’ said Albert with a smile. ‘It will be a memento of the day you locked me in my room.’
‘Oh, Albert!’ she cried, full of contrition, ‘that is something I don’t think I shall want to be reminded of.’
The Queen's Husband Page 12
