The Queen and Lord M (35 page)

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Authors: Jean Plaidy

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Nothing pleased Victoria more than to dance into the early hours of the morning and to dance with Albert was perfect bliss.

How strange that she had been feeling so depressed and had suddenly been lifted to the heights of ecstasy by the arrival of this wonderful cousin. Every time she saw him his beauty impressed her afresh; and that he was clever and loved music and was obviously already fond of her added to her enchantment.

She wanted the whole world to know of her feelings; although Lord Melbourne had said they should be a little discreet at first. And the marriage should be soon. Early next year, Lord Melbourne had said, would be a good time. She was sure dear Albert would agree though as yet the darling did not know of his good fortune.

She walked into the ballroom carrying her bouquet of flowers. Lehzen had said she looked enchantingly pretty with that fresh colour in her cheeks and her eyes dancing with happiness. Of course, she thought, although I
am
a little like Albert I am not beautiful as he is. But … I am the Queen.

Albert was standing before her. How blue his eyes were and his lashes were magnificent. She had heard that he was the image of his mother, who had been rather a wayward woman. How wonderful of Albert to have inherited his mother’s beauty without her waywardness.

In an excess of love she took some flowers from her bouquet and gave them to him; Albert took them, bowed, and his blue eyes looked straight into hers. He was in uniform so that he had no buttonhole in which to put the flowers. He took a penknife and cut a hole in his coat to receive them and during the whole evening he wore them.

Just over his heart, the Queen noticed.

Oh, dear, gracious,
gallant
Albert!

The next morning she was in a fever of impatience to be up. She had made up her mind.

After breakfast, which she took in her room, she asked where the Princes were and heard that they had gone out riding.

From her window she watched their return; and then she sent for Albert to attend her in the blue closet.

Albert came and her eyes lit up when she saw him.

‘Dear cousin,’ she said, holding out her hand to him, ‘I trust you have enjoyed your ride this morning.’

Albert said that he had indeed and so had Ernest.

She said: ‘I think you must be aware of why I asked you to come here.’ Albert hesitated and she went on: ‘It would make me
too
happy if you would consent to what I wish.’

Albert understood at once. The uncertainties were over.

He found her enchanting; her adoration had been so obvious; all the fretful delays were forgotten. She loved him, there was no doubt of that; and he was more than ready to love her.

He took her hands in his; she threw herself into his arms; she was laughing and weeping. Albert kissed her; she returned his kisses fervently.

‘Oh, Albert,’ she cried, ‘life is so
wonderful
. Did you think it could ever be so wonderful?’

Albert had never dreamed that it could be.

They kissed again; she clung to him. ‘I am so happy. Everyone will be happy. Oh,
dear
Albert.’

And suddenly she was aware of an unaccustomed humility which astonished her. She had believed until this moment that she was honouring him and now she thought of all that being a consort to a reigning Queen implied.

‘Dearest Albert, do you understand what a
sacrifice
you are making in taking me for your wife?’

Albert laughed tenderly. All he knew was that he wanted Victoria to be his wife more than anything in the world.

‘I am the Queen of England, dearest Albert.’

‘To me you will be Victoria, my wife.’

What enchanting things dear Albert said!

Never in the whole of her life had she been so happy.

What glorious days followed! When she was not in his company she was impatient for a sight of him. She could come behind him and kiss the top of his head. Always demonstrative in her affections, she insisted on constant embraces. Not that Albert was loath. He was enchanted with her; and if she had fallen immediately and violently in love with him he was ready to follow at a more measured pace.

They talked about music and their respective childhoods, but they agreed that the past was unimportant compared with the future which they would share. What joy to dance with Albert, hands tightly clasped, smiling fondly. As she mentioned to Lehzen, she had never been so happy nor felt so humble. She had never thought it possible that she, the Queen, could be grateful to a man for marrying her.

‘Of course, he will have a very high position,’ she said.

‘He’ll also have his burdens,’ added Lehzen.

Poor darling Daisy, perhaps she did feel that she was being pushed a little into the background. Albert seemed to take over so much of what she had done in the past.
He
made sure that she was not in a draught;
he
put a shawl or a cape about her shoulders; he would whisper that she should not do this or that as it might not be good for her.

What joy to be so cherished! But dear Daisy would always have a place in her heart.

It was different with Lord Melbourne. He remained her dear Prime Minister however much she was in love with Albert, and she must still have her daily meetings with him. It was true she took up a lot of time in discussing the perfections of Albert.

One day she mentioned Albert’s reserve.

‘Of course,
I
find it delightful. Do you know, I believe he is quite unaware of any of the other ladies.’

‘Quite right and proper in the circumstances.’

‘Oh, yes, of course, but I do not believe he has ever looked at a woman before.’

‘That type often flirts later on,’ said Lord Melbourne rather waspishly.

‘That,’ cried the Queen angrily, ‘is nonsense.’

“Oh, no,’ insisted Lord Melbourne. ‘I have known many such cases. A man is quiet and reserved in his youth and when he gets to middle age he changes completely.’

‘Are you suggesting that Albert will do this?’

‘Well,’ said Lord Melbourne, ‘there is a possibility that he will conform to that type.’

The Queen stamped her foot. ‘That is a slanderous remark, Lord Melbourne.’

The Prime Minister looked startled.

‘And,’ said Victoria, the corners of her lips drawn down, her manner coldly regal, ‘I expect you to say that you were talking foolish nonsense.’

Lord Melbourne replied that he was talking of a type.

‘And you thought Albert might conform to this type?’

‘I am sure that was a misapprehension,’ said Lord Melbourne tactfully. And he added with one of his sly looks which Victoria was too put out – contemplating the possibility of Albert’s infidelity – to notice: ‘Albert is unique.’

‘Of course Albert would not be like that. He is too dignified and too
loyal
. He will realise what it means to be married to the Queen.’

‘Oh, yes, he will soon realise that,’ said Lord Melbourne significantly.

‘Albert is reserved, except with those he loves,’ said Victoria tenderly, ‘and he will
always
be like that.’

‘The Queen will command it,’ said Lord Melbourne with a courtly bow.

‘He is not in the least like the Grand Duke of Russia.’

‘Ah, there was a man whom Your Majesty admired very much.’

‘He has had so many love affairs.’

‘An affair before marriage is nothing,’ said Lord Melbourne. ‘As long as he doesn’t do it afterwards.’

‘I would never marry a man who had loved another woman,’ declared the Queen.

‘You wouldn’t think of that if you were in love with him.’

‘I should.’

‘Then all is well for there is no question of your reserved and gallant Prince having so indulged.’

‘There is no question at all,’ said Victoria, her happiness restored.

There was so much to talk over with Lord Melbourne. Sometimes she would think of something at odd times and would summon him to her.

Dear Lord Melbourne! What would she do without him?

Once she sent for him in the evening. He was to come to her at once, was her message to him. He came in a very strange costume – light white and grey calico trousers; and she knew that he had been in bed and had been awakened to come to her.

She was full of remorse. She feared that in her newly found happiness she had neglected this friend.

‘But you were sleeping,’ she said tenderly.

He denied this, but she didn’t believe him.

‘I only wished to discuss some item about the wedding,’ she told him.

‘A most important subject,’ he said with a smile.

‘Dear Lord M,’ she said. ‘I fear I may have been a little short with you lately. It is all this excitement coming after that wretched time. But Lord Melbourne, always remember that I love you more than any of your other friends do.’

He did not look at her and she saw that his eyes were full of tears.

Her own gushed forth.

‘My
dear
, dear friend,’ she murmured.

And she thought: My overwhelming love for my
divine
Albert does not make me love this dear friend less.

Chapter XIV

UNEASY PREPARATIONS

I
t was necessary for Albert and his brother to return to Coburg. Albert must make his arrangements for leaving the home of his birth, and preparations for the wedding must go forward at once if it was to take place in February. There was so much to be settled and the Queen urged Lord Melbourne to forge ahead with these matters.

In the first place there was Albert’s position at Court to be considered, which was an affair of precedence of course; and then there was the question of his allowance. He would have to be naturalised too, for it was unthinkable that a foreigner should be the Queen’s husband.

Lord Melbourne worked with all his might to meet the Queen’s wishes but the Tories always opposed him and his tottering Whigs and as the Prime Minister had often explained to the Queen, it was often very difficult to get Bills passed because of this.

Uncle Ernest declared that he would not give precedence to a little Coburg Prince even if he was the Queen’s husband. The Tories supported him and the other Royal Dukes who had followed him in protest, and the Queen was furious.

She raged against the Tories. ‘I always hated them,’ she declared. ‘As for Sir Robert Peel I have always known that he was a low hyprocrite. But I expected better of the Duke of Wellington. I shall certainly not ask
him
to my wedding.’

Lord Melbourne begged her to be calm.

‘Calm!’ she cried. ‘When they behave so to my dearest Albert. That
angel
to be treated so by
monsters
.’

The Queen saw things in distinct shades of black and white, pointed out Lord Melbourne patiently. In Her Majesty’s opinion people were either angels or devils, which was not true in this case. It was all a little more subtle than that.

‘I should like to punish those Tory monsters,’ she insisted.

‘It is fortunate for them that we have a Constitutional Monarchy,’ said Lord Melbourne wryly.

‘Everything is too slow,’ said the Queen. ‘You politicians don’t work hard enough.’

Then Charles Greville, her Clerk of the Council, discovered that she could settle Albert’s status by Royal Prerogative. This delighted her. Albert
should
take precedence over all Royal Dukes so that little matter was settled.

He was to be called the Prince Consort.

‘The Prince Consort,’ she cried. ‘Surely the husband of a queen should be a king!’

‘Not if he is a prince,’ explained Lord Melbourne patiently.

‘But his marriage will make him a king.’

‘No, that is not so,’ was the Prime Minister’s reply. ‘We should need a special Act of Parliament to turn a Prince Consort into a King Consort.’

‘Then let us bring in this special Act.’

Lord Melbourne shook his head. ‘It would be most unwise to give a Parliament the power to make a king; it would be a precedent. If it was as easy to make a king or queen, it would be as easy to
unmake
one.’

Victoria was thoughtful. Anything that was a threat to her Crown could not be ignored.

Albert should remain the Prince Consort.

It was necessary, Lord Melbourne told her, to make a formal announcement of her decision to accept Prince Albert as her husband and for this she returned to London and summoned her Privy Council to the Palace.

The Duke of Wellington, who had shortly before suffered from a stroke, was just well enough to be present. Her anger against him melted when she saw how ill he looked. The right side of his mouth was twisted a little and he could not use his arm. Poor old man, thought the Queen. How sad to be old and almost finished with life.

She had dressed herself in a plain gown and wore a bracelet to which had been attached a portrait of Albert.

She bowed to the councillors and begged them to be seated and then she read the speech which Lord Melbourne had written for her.

‘It is my intention to ally myself in marriage with Prince Albert of Saxe-Coburg. Deeply impressed with the solemnity of the engagement which I am about to contract, I have not come to this decision without mature consideration, nor without a feeling of strong assurance that, with the blessing of Almighty God, it will at once secure my domestic felicity and serve the interests of my country.’

When she had finished reading she noticed that Lord Melbourne was looking at her with tears in his eyes.

Dear,
dear
Lord Melbourne. How often had she seen those eyes fill with tears for her!

That day she left the Palace for Windsor. Crowds collected to see her as she left. Now she could not complain of a lack of loyal cheers.

Lady Flora was forgotten. So was the Bedchamber Affair. Their young Queen was going to be a bride and her people were once more delighted with her.

But if the people were pleased at the prospect of a royal wedding the Tories had not forgotten the Queen’s insult to Sir Robert Peel and her unconcealed animosity towards them which had been so obvious during the time of the Bedchamber Crisis. They seemed determined to make everything as uncomfortable for her as possible, and as it was difficult to attack the Crown the best way to annoy the Queen was to cast slurs on Albert.

There had been too many Germans in the royal family, was their opinion, since the accession of George I when the royal family had branched from the Stuarts to the Guelphs. The country was heartily sick of Germans. And now the Queen was proposing to bring this young one over and marry him and had even tried to make him a King Consort. That had been satisfactorily stopped, but it did not take the Prince’s detractors long to find a stick with which to beat him. In the Queen’s announcement of her betrothal to her Privy Councillors, the text of which had been published, there had been no mention of the Prince’s religion. This could mean one thing. The Prince was not a Protestant. Was the Queen trying to bring a Catholic to share her throne?

The King of Hanover, Victoria’s Uncle Ernest, who had always coveted the throne and had in fact been suspected of sinister actions towards the young Princess Victoria, was believed to be behind the plots to disqualify the Prince and prevent the marriage. But for Victoria, Ernest would have been King of England; it had always been a sore point with him that he had been younger than Victoria’s father and so cheated of the throne by a mere girl. He had never ceased to hope that Victoria would die and he be called over to take the Crown. That she had been so healthy had infuriated him; and now the thought of her marrying and having children who would come before him in the line of succession and so put the throne out of his reach for ever was more than he could bear.

And so his spies were ordered to put rumours in motion and the aggrieved Tories were not slow to make use of them.

The Queen was furious, far more angry than she would have been at an attack on herself. Her Uncle Ernest was an old wretch and the Tories were odious. How dared they attack her beloved! One day they should all be punished.

Lord Brougham, that old enemy in the Lords, made a pronouncement which was widely quoted.

‘There is no prohibition to marriage with a Catholic. It is only attended with a penalty, and that penalty is merely the forfeiture of the crown.’

‘Oh, how dare he!’ cried the Queen. ‘That man is a traitor!’

She was amazed that the Duke of Wellington did not hesitate to side with his Tory friends, and he actually led the attack on Albert in the Lords.

The Queen raged with Lord Melbourne. Why was nothing done? What were her ministers doing if they could allow the Queen to be so maligned? Were the Tories so foolish that they thought she did not know her own Constitution? Did they think she would ever marry anyone who was a Catholic?

‘The noble Duke knows that the Prince is not a Catholic,’ declared Lord Melbourne in the House of Commons. ‘He knows he is a Protestant. The whole world knows he is a Protestant.’

Finally Baron Stockmar who had arrived back in England made a public statement that the Prince was a Protestant who could take communion in the English church, and that the only difference was that he was a Lutheran.

‘So that matter is settled,’ said the Queen.

These were difficult weeks. She missed Albert; she fretted for him; she made exciting plans about the wedding, and then she waited for letters from him and was miserable when they did not come.

The Tories and her other enemies were taking all the joy out of her betrothal. She was beginning to be irritable and bad tempered again.

‘Never mind,’ said Lord Melbourne. ‘These matters have to be settled.’

There was worse to come. Albert was not a rich man; he had only an income of £2,500 a year and a small estate in Coburg.

‘The fellow’s a pauper,’ said the Tories. ‘He must not be allowed to get above himself.’

Lord Melbourne discussed the matter of the income which would be settled on the Queen’s husband.

‘He will be in a similar position to Prince George of Denmark who married Queen Anne,’ said Lord Melbourne. ‘She was the reigning Queen and he was a Prince of Denmark. The Parliament of the day settled £50,000 a year on him. The same amount was given to William III (only he was a king in his own right) and your Uncle Leopold was given a similar sum when he married Princess Charlotte. I think we should ask for the same for Prince Albert. We will get Parliament to agree to that I’m sure.’

Even so Lord Melbourne secretly feared that the Tories would oppose this; and he was right, they did. £50,000 was too large a sum, they said. They would agree to £30,000.

When Lord Melbourne came to convey this information to the Queen he knew he would have to face a termagant.

He was right.

She raged and stormed. She would never speak to the Duke of Wellington again. She would take her revenge on Sir Robert Peel. They were saying that her clever, her
divine
Albert was not worth so much as foolish old Prince George of Denmark. How dared they insult her beloved Albert!

She turned on Melbourne. ‘You should have arranged this better. You are the Prime Minister.’

‘Ma’am, it is not in a Prime Minister’s power to say this shall be done.’

‘I know my own Constitution.’

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