Victoria Victorious: The Story of Queen Victoria (33 page)

“A common trait among nations,” he commented.

“They are saying that there have been too many Germans in the royal family.”

“There have been a large number since the coming of George the First.”

“What would people have? Stuarts? I cannot remember that they
were so good for the country. One of them brought about a civil war. Is that what they want?”

“Nations never want what they have, and look back nostalgically to those days which seem rosy because they are too far back to be seen clearly.”

“I do wish they would be reasonable.”

“That is what we must all try to be.”

“Albert is worthy of the highest rank. I shall defy them all by making him King Consort.”

Lord Melbourne looked at me with that half tender, half exasperated look I knew so well.

“That could never be,” he said quietly. “Parliament cannot confer kingship.”

“And why not?” I retorted. “Since Albert will be the husband of the Queen, does not that make him a king?”

“No, Ma'am, it does not. He is a prince and cannot be anything else. If you allow Parliament to make kings, you could not be surprised if now and then they decided to
un
make them.”

“The French did. And what of Charles the First?”

“Your Majesty cannot be thinking of revolutions and civil wars. We want none of those here. There is no question regarding this matter. Prince Albert cannot be King Consort.”

“He cannot have a peerage! He cannot be a king! Then what can he be?”

“What he will be, Ma'am, is the Queen's husband.”

I talked about his allowance. Lord Melbourne said that it was customary to give the monarch's consort £50,000 a year, and he would ask the Parliament to agree to this. I was a little mollified because I knew that Albert was by no means rich. He had only £2,500 a year, so £50,000 would be wealth to him.

I longed to write and tell him that he was going to be rich. I was so certain that there would be no impediment, that I almost did. Lord Melbourne had reminded me that £50,000 had been awarded to Queen Anne's husband, George of Denmark, and to William of Orange, consort of Queen Mary, although William of Orange was, of course, a king in his own right.

It did not occur to me that Albert should fail to receive the same.

Lord Melbourne came to me in a subdued mood.

“I regret to tell Your Majesty that Parliament refuses the grant of £50,000. They will agree only to £30,000.”

I was outraged. “This is monstrous,” I cried.

“Alas, the government was beaten by one hundred and four votes.”

“£30,000 when that oaf, Queen Anne's husband, was given £50,000! How can they be so stupid? What good was that man to the country? And dear, clever Albert …” I was so angry. I turned to Lord Melbourne, “How could you allow it? You should have stopped it. You are the Prime Minister.”

“Your Majesty will know that it is not in the Prime Minister's power to go against the majority.”

“We must insist.”

Lord Melbourne just shook his head.

“Is it so very much more?” I demanded.

“£20,000 to be precise.”

“I know that!” I shouted. “It is nothing…nothing… compared with the money in the country. It is done to insult Albert … and me. How can I tell him?”

“I do believe,” said Lord Melbourne, “that Prince Albert, if he knew the circumstances, would be the first to understand.”

“What circumstances?”

“The state of the country. We are not very prosperous at this time. There is a great deal of unemployment. The Chartists are making a nuisance of themselves and they have their supporters. It would not do to bestow large sums of money on—forgive me, Your Majesty, but that is how people would see it—impoverished foreigners, while our own people are in need.”

I stared at him. I knew there had been troubles, but Lord Melbourne had always made light of them. The Duchess of Sutherland was always trying to interest me in what Lord Melbourne called “causes.” “They give the idle something to do and feel good about,” he had said. I had been interested in Lord Shaftesbury, who had made great efforts to improve conditions in the mines and had brought to light the terrible fate of chimney sweeps. But when I had talked to Lord Melbourne about this he had said that Shaftesbury had been quite cruel to his own children and that charity should begin at home. Lord Melbourne had mentioned these matters lightly, and then he had been quite amusing about some aspects, and I had not thought very seriously about them.

Now it seemed different. It was brought home to me. I remembered the poor man to whom I had given the money I had saved for the big doll. I just hated to see beggars in the streets and always wanted to give to
them. I could not bear the thought of little boys going up chimneys and children in the mines.

That sobered me considerably and made me forget my anger about the refusal of the Tories to give Albert his £50,000.

“Yes,” I said slowly, “I do see that.”

I wondered what poor Albert was thinking because he would now know what was going on. I feared he might experience some humiliation, which was the last thing I wanted. I was sure he would understand about his allowance. He would be the first to realize the needs of the people.

He accepted these insults stoically and wrote to me about his household. It was at this time that I began to realize what strict moral standards Albert had. I believe, in his heart, he did not approve of Lord Melbourne who had been cited twice as the lover of married women and had a stormy marriage. He would have heard about the Byron scandal; and like so many very good people who could not bear a breath of scandal, felt that all those concerned in such cases were tainted, even though they might be innocent parties.
I
did not feel like that; but then I was not so very
good
.

Albert thought that his household could be composed of both Whigs and Tories. He thought it was wrong to have one party predominant. This was a faint criticism of my household, which was entirely Whig. He always wanted members of his household to be completely moral.

When I put this before Lord Melbourne, he smiled wryly but was very firm.

“There could not be two households made up of different political leanings,” he said. “Your Majesty has seen the disaster brought about by this sort of thing under your own roof—yours and your mother's.”

I agreed with that.

“Well then,” he said, “there should be one household, and I do not think Your Majesty would wish to people that with Tories.”

“I would not endure them in my household.”

“You are the Queen. It is your decision. The Prince should have his own private secretary but he and I can share one for the time being. George Anson is a very worthy fellow.”

“It is good of you to offer to share him with the Prince. I will write to Albert at once.”

Albert's reaction was immediate. He did not think it was a good idea for him to share the Prime Minister's secretary. There was another matter. He believed that George Anson was up half the night dancing. That
seemed to Albert a very frivolous occupation for the holder of such an important post.

I was resentful.
I
liked to stay up half the night dancing, and I had a responsible post. Sometimes I felt that Albert forgot I was the Queen of England. He would have to learn that I knew far more of my country than he possibly could; and it was no use talking about being fair to both political parties and allowing the hated Tories into the Palace. He did not know how odious they could be.

Uncle Leopold wrote. He was disgusted because Albert had not been given a peerage and because Parliament had seen fit to insult him by giving him only £30,000 a year when the custom had been to give £50,000 to consorts of reigning queens.

I was getting a little irritated, even with Albert. He did not understand. Uncle Leopold did not understand.

I wrote to Albert explaining to him that his suggestion about his gentlemen simply would not do. He must rely on me to see that gentlemen of the highest standing and good character would be appointed. I added that I had received a rather disgruntled letter from Uncle Leopold. He was annoyed because I did not take his advice. “Dear Uncle,” I wrote, “he is inclined to believe that he should be in command everywhere.”

I wanted to tell Albert—gently—that although I loved him dearly and respected him in every way, I was the Queen; and even he, dear, good, clever creature that he was, must not forget that.

I discovered that Albert, for all his outward gentleness, had a strong will. He was very disturbed regarding my comments about the household. He thought that he might get together certain noble, right thinking, moral, non-political German gentlemen who could accompany him to England. I would understand, he was sure, how lonely a man could feel in a strange land.

Lord Melbourne was horrified. “A household of Germans! Never! The people would not endure it. Better Tories than that. Your Majesty knows how people distrust foreigners.”

Lord Melbourne looked at me with his head on one side as though to remind me that he had always pointed out the difficulties of a foreign marriage. Perhaps he thought George Cambridge would have been more suitable—an English cousin rather than a German one. Moreover Lord Melbourne had always expressed a certain dislike of Germans.

I told him severely that nationality did not come into the matter.
I was not marrying Albert because he was a German but because I loved him.

The situation was growing tense. If Albert had been with me I felt we could have talked over these matters and come to an understanding. It was so difficult in writing. Words on paper looked so definite…so irrevocable. And the posts took so long that if one wrote when one was heated, by the time the letter was received one's mood would have changed considerably.

How I longed to see him and thrash out these difficulties in person.

Albert blankly refused to share the Prime Minister's secretary, and Lord Melbourne said that he would give him up and he should serve Albert only. Albert grudgingly agreed to this, so that was one little hurdle over which we had come.

But there were more. This time between Albert and myself, which was more distressing because there was no one to blame.

I did try to console myself that it was because Albert was inexperienced of customs and manners in England. He had been brought up very strictly and of course he was
naturally
good. I doubted there had been many storms in his childhood. He would always have been very conscious of his duty, and I was sure he had never strayed from the path of virtue.

The trouble with good people is that they expect such a lot from others whose natures are not so inclined toward goodness.

The first was an upset over the honeymoon. I had had such a delightful letter from Albert telling me how much he was longing to come to England and was so looking forward to our honeymoon. This should be spent at Windsor—
dear
Windsor—where we had enjoyed such a happy time, and where I had asked him to marry me. The wedding ceremony would be tiring. Dear Albert was often tired. It was because he rose early in the mornings, but then he liked to retire early. I remembered how weary he looked after some of the balls and how he could not prevent himself from yawning. “So,” wrote Albert, “we shall go to Windsor for a whole week where we shall be by ourselves. I shall insist on that.”

Of course, I was delighted that he should want to be alone with me, but dear Albert, he did not understand. The Queen had many duties. Of course he could not realize what the governing of a country like mine involved. How could he? He was but the Prince of Saxe-Coburg—and not the ruling prince either. There was a great deal Albert did not understand,
but he would learn, of course; and being Albert he would learn quickly. One of these things was that one did not
insist
to the Queen.

“You forget, dearest love,” I wrote, “that I am the Sovereign and state business can wait for nothing. Parliament is sitting so I could not be away from London for more than a day or so.”

When I sent off that letter I worried a little. There had been so much conflict after that joyous period when we had declared our love for each other. I wished I could see him. I wanted to know how he was feeling about all these hitches. Letters could sound so chilling sometimes. Had I been arrogant? I could not help it. I had to remind him that it was the Queen whom he was to marry.

I sent him the list of the bridesmaids. I wanted him to agree on every aspect, even this one, so I was amazed when he sent his disapproval of my choice.

He instanced two bridesmaids who should be struck off the list. They were the daughters of Lady Radnor and Lady Jersey. The bridesmaids might be innocent young women, but their mothers had been involved in scandal, Albert pointed out. Lady Jersey had been notorious. Her ill fame had been known throughout Europe. Albert thought that none of our bridesmaids should be touched by scandal.

When I showed the letter to Lord Melbourne, he was amazed; then he began to laugh.

“What does the Prince wish us to do? Check the annals of the past? God help us! What should we find? And what of the bridegroom's antecedents? I ask. His father was a notorious libertine and do not forget that he divorced his wife—the sainted Albert's own mother—for immorality. This, Your Majesty, is going a little too far.”

Much as I loved Albert, I agreed with Lord Melbourne. Albert was being a little illogical on this occasion. If we put his ideas into practice, Lord Melbourne would not be my Prime Minister. And what of my father who had lived so long with Madame St. Laurent without benefit of clergy?

No, Albert was taking his goodness too far; and I must write and tell him that the list of bridesmaids could not be changed.

Lord Melbourne sometimes regarded me with a certain sadness. I knew what was in his mind. Our relationship would necessarily change after my marriage. It would be another who was my constant companion, embuing me with his ideas.

Was I easily led? Perhaps I was when I loved. And did I love too easily, too wholeheartedly? Perhaps there was that in me which looked for male domination. Uncle Leopold…Lord Melbourne…I had loved Uncle Leopold almost fanatically until Lord Melbourne appeared and showed me the flaws in him. And now Albert would be the man in my life.