diff options
Diffstat (limited to 'old/1265-h/1265-h.htm')
| -rw-r--r-- | old/1265-h/1265-h.htm | 9043 |
1 files changed, 0 insertions, 9043 deletions
diff --git a/old/1265-h/1265-h.htm b/old/1265-h/1265-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index afb0dee..0000000 --- a/old/1265-h/1265-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,9043 +0,0 @@ -<?xml version="1.0" encoding="us-ascii"?> - -<!DOCTYPE html - PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" - "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > - -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> - <head> - <title> - Queen Victoria, by Lytton Strachey - </title> - <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> - - body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} - P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } - H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } - hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} - .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } - blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} - .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} - .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} - .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} - div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } - div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } - .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} - .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} - .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; - margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; - text-align: right;} - pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} - -</style> - </head> - <body> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Queen Victoria, by Lytton Strachey - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - - -Title: Queen Victoria - -Author: Lytton Strachey - -Release Date: February 18, 2006 [EBook #1265] -Last Updated: February 6, 2013 - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK QUEEN VICTORIA *** - - - - -Produced by An Anonymous Volunteer and David Widger - - - - - -</pre> - <p> - <br /> <br /> - </p> - <h1> - QUEEN VICTORIA - </h1> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <h2> - By Lytton Strachey - </h2> - <p> - <br /> <br /> - </p> - <h4> - New York Harcourt, Brace And Company, 1921 - </h4> - <p> - <br /> <br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <br /> <br /> - </p> - <h2> - Contents - </h2> - <h4> - <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> QUEEN VICTORIA </a> - </h4> - <table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto"> - <tr> - <td> - <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I </a> - </td> - <td> - ANTECEDENTS - </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td> - <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II </a> - </td> - <td> - CHILDHOOD - </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td> - <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III </a> - </td> - <td> - LORD MELBOURNE - </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td> - <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV </a> - </td> - <td> - MARRIAGE - </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td> - <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V </a> - </td> - <td> - LORD PALMERSTON - </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td> - <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI </a> - </td> - <td> - LAST YEARS OF PRINCE CONSORT - </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td> - <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII </a> - </td> - <td> - WIDOWHOOD - </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td> - <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII </a> - </td> - <td> - GLADSTONE AND LORD BEACONSFIELD - </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td> - <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX </a> - </td> - <td> - OLD AGE - </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td> - <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X </a> - </td> - <td> - THE END - </td> - </tr> - </table> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_BIBL"> BIBLIOGRAPHY AND LIST OF REFERENCES IN THE NOTES, - ARRANGED </a> - </p> - <p> - <br /> <br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> <br /> <br /> - </p> - <h1> - QUEEN VICTORIA - </h1> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER I. ANTECEDENTS - </h2> - <h3> - I - </h3> - <p> - On November 6, 1817, died the Princess Charlotte, only child of the Prince - Regent, and heir to the crown of England. Her short life had hardly been a - happy one. By nature impulsive, capricious, and vehement, she had always - longed for liberty; and she had never possessed it. She had been brought - up among violent family quarrels, had been early separated from her - disreputable and eccentric mother, and handed over to the care of her - disreputable and selfish father. When she was seventeen, he decided to - marry her off to the Prince of Orange; she, at first, acquiesced; but, - suddenly falling in love with Prince Augustus of Prussia, she determined - to break off the engagement. This was not her first love affair, for she - had previously carried on a clandestine correspondence with a Captain - Hess. Prince Augustus was already married, morganatically, but she did not - know it, and he did not tell her. While she was spinning out the - negotiations with the Prince of Orange, the allied sovereign—it was - June, 1814—arrived in London to celebrate their victory. Among them, - in the suite of the Emperor of Russia, was the young and handsome Prince - Leopold of Saxe-Coburg. He made several attempts to attract the notice of - the Princess, but she, with her heart elsewhere, paid very little - attention. Next month the Prince Regent, discovering that his daughter was - having secret meetings with Prince Augustus, suddenly appeared upon the - scene and, after dismissing her household, sentenced her to a strict - seclusion in Windsor Park. "God Almighty grant me patience!" she - exclaimed, falling on her knees in an agony of agitation: then she jumped - up, ran down the backstairs and out into the street, hailed a passing cab, - and drove to her mother's house in Bayswater. She was discovered, pursued, - and at length, yielding to the persuasions of her uncles, the Dukes of - York and Sussex, of Brougham, and of the Bishop of Salisbury, she returned - to Carlton House at two o'clock in the morning. She was immured at - Windsor, but no more was heard of the Prince of Orange. Prince Augustus, - too, disappeared. The way was at last open to Prince Leopold of - Saxe-Coburg. - </p> - <p> - This Prince was clever enough to get round the Regent, to impress the - Ministers, and to make friends with another of the Princess's uncles, the - Duke of Kent. Through the Duke he was able to communicate privately with - the Princess, who now declared that he was necessary to her happiness. - When, after Waterloo, he was in Paris, the Duke's aide-de-camp carried - letters backwards and forwards across the Channel. In January 1816 he was - invited to England, and in May the marriage took place. - </p> - <p> - The character of Prince Leopold contrasted strangely with that of his - wife. The younger son of a German princeling, he was at this time - twenty-six years of age; he had served with distinction in the war against - Napoleon; he had shown considerable diplomatic skill at the Congress of - Vienna; and he was now to try his hand at the task of taming a tumultuous - Princess. Cold and formal in manner, collected in speech, careful in - action, he soon dominated the wild, impetuous, generous creature by his - side. There was much in her, he found, of which he could not approve. She - quizzed, she stamped, she roared with laughter; she had very little of - that self-command which is especially required of princes; her manners - were abominable. Of the latter he was a good judge, having moved, as he - himself explained to his niece many years later, in the best society of - Europe, being in fact "what is called in French de la fleur des pois." - There was continual friction, but every scene ended in the same way. - Standing before him like a rebellious boy in petticoats, her body pushed - forward, her hands behind her back, with flaming cheeks and sparkling - eyes, she would declare at last that she was ready to do whatever he - wanted. "If you wish it, I will do it," she would say. "I want nothing for - myself," he invariably answered; "When I press something on you, it is - from a conviction that it is for your interest and for your good." - </p> - <p> - Among the members of the household at Claremont, near Esher, where the - royal pair were established, was a young German physician, Christian - Friedrich Stockmar. He was the son of a minor magistrate in Coburg, and, - after taking part as a medical officer in the war, he had settled down as - a doctor in his native town. Here he had met Prince Leopold, who had been - struck by his ability, and, on his marriage, brought him to England as his - personal physician. A curious fate awaited this young man; many were the - gifts which the future held in store for him—many and various—influence, - power, mystery, unhappiness, a broken heart. At Claremont his position was - a very humble one; but the Princess took a fancy to him, called him - "Stocky," and romped with him along the corridors. Dyspeptic by - constitution, melancholic by temperament, he could yet be lively on - occasion, and was known as a wit in Coburg. He was virtuous, too, and - served the royal menage with approbation. "My master," he wrote in his - diary, "is the best of all husbands in all the five quarters of the globe; - and his wife bears him an amount of love, the greatness of which can only - be compared with the English national debt." Before long he gave proof of - another quality—a quality which was to colour the whole of his - life-cautious sagacity. When, in the spring of 1817, it was known that the - Princess was expecting a child, the post of one of her - physicians-in-ordinary was offered to him, and he had the good sense to - refuse it. He perceived that his colleagues would be jealous of him, that - his advice would probably not be taken, but that, if anything were to go - wrong, it would be certainly the foreign doctor who would be blamed. Very - soon, indeed, he came to the opinion that the low diet and constant - bleedings, to which the unfortunate Princess was subjected, were an error; - he drew the Prince aside, and begged him to communicate this opinion to - the English doctors; but it was useless. The fashionable lowering - treatment was continued for months. On November 5, at nine o'clock in the - evening, after a labour of over fifty hours, the Princess was delivered of - a dead boy. At midnight her exhausted strength gave way. When, at last, - Stockmar consented to see her; he went in, and found her obviously dying, - while the doctors were plying her with wine. She seized his hand and - pressed it. "They have made me tipsy," she said. After a little he left - her, and was already in the next room when he heard her call out in her - loud voice: "Stocky! Stocky!" As he ran back the death-rattle was in her - throat. She tossed herself violently from side to side; then suddenly drew - up her legs, and it was over. - </p> - <p> - The Prince, after hours of watching, had left the room for a few moments' - rest; and Stockmar had now to tell him that his wife was dead. At first he - could not be made to realise what had happened. On their way to her room - he sank down on a chair while Stockmar knelt beside him: it was all a - dream; it was impossible. At last, by the bed, he, too, knelt down and - kissed the cold hands. Then rising and exclaiming, "Now I am quite - desolate. Promise me never to leave me," he threw himself into Stockmar's - arms. - </p> - <p> - II - </p> - <p> - The tragedy at Claremont was of a most upsetting kind. The royal - kaleidoscope had suddenly shifted, and nobody could tell how the new - pattern would arrange itself. The succession to the throne, which had - seemed so satisfactorily settled, now became a matter of urgent doubt. - </p> - <p> - George III was still living, an aged lunatic, at Windsor, completely - impervious to the impressions of the outer world. Of his seven sons, the - youngest was of more than middle age, and none had legitimate offspring. - The outlook, therefore, was ambiguous. It seemed highly improbable that - the Prince Regent, who had lately been obliged to abandon his stays, and - presented a preposterous figure of debauched obesity, could ever again, - even on the supposition that he divorced his wife and re-married, become - the father of a family. Besides the Duke of Kent, who must be noticed - separately, the other brothers, in order of seniority, were the Dukes of - York, Clarence, Cumberland, Sussex, and Cambridge; their situations and - prospects require a brief description. The Duke of York, whose escapades - in times past with Mrs. Clarke and the army had brought him into trouble, - now divided his life between London and a large, extravagantly ordered and - extremely uncomfortable country house where he occupied himself with - racing, whist, and improper stories. He was remarkable among the princes - for one reason: he was the only one of them—so we are informed by a - highly competent observer—who had the feelings of a gentleman. He - had been long married to the Princess Royal of Prussia, a lady who rarely - went to bed and was perpetually surrounded by vast numbers of dogs, - parrots, and monkeys. They had no children. The Duke of Clarence had lived - for many years in complete obscurity with Mrs. Jordan, the actress, in - Bushey Park. By her he had had a large family of sons and daughters, and - had appeared, in effect to be married to her, when he suddenly separated - from her and offered to marry Miss Wykeham, a crazy woman of large - fortune, who, however, would have nothing to say to him. Shortly - afterwards Mrs. Jordan died in distressed circumstances in Paris. The Duke - of Cumberland was probably the most unpopular man in England. Hideously - ugly, with a distorted eye, he was bad-tempered and vindictive in private, - a violent reactionary in politics, and was subsequently suspected of - murdering his valet and of having carried on an amorous intrigue of an - extremely scandalous kind. He had lately married a German Princess, but - there were as yet no children by the marriage. The Duke of Sussex had - mildly literary tastes and collected books. He had married Lady Augusta - Murray, by whom he had two children, but the marriage, under the Royal - Marriages Act, was declared void. On Lady Augusta's death, he married Lady - Cecilia Buggin; she changed her name to Underwood, but this marriage also - was void. Of the Duke of Cambridge, the youngest of the brothers, not very - much was known. He lived in Hanover, wore a blonde wig, chattered and - fidgeted a great deal, and was unmarried. - </p> - <p> - Besides his seven sons, George III had five surviving daughters. Of these, - two—the Queen of Wurtemberg and the Duchess of Gloucester—were - married and childless. The three unmarried princesses—Augusta, - Elizabeth, and Sophia—were all over forty. - </p> - <p> - III - </p> - <p> - The fourth son of George III was Edward, Duke of Kent. He was now fifty - years of age—a tall, stout, vigorous man, highly-coloured, with - bushy eyebrows, a bald top to his head, and what hair he had carefully - dyed a glossy black. His dress was extremely neat, and in his whole - appearance there was a rigidity which did not belie his character. He had - spent his early life in the army—at Gibraltar, in Canada, in the - West Indies—and, under the influence of military training, had - become at first a disciplinarian and at last a martinet. In 1802, having - been sent to Gibraltar to restore order in a mutinous garrison, he was - recalled for undue severity, and his active career had come to an end. - Since then he had spent his life regulating his domestic arrangements with - great exactitude, busying himself with the affairs of his numerous - dependents, designing clocks, and struggling to restore order to his - finances, for, in spite of his being, as someone said who knew him well - "regle comme du papier a musique," and in spite of an income of L24,000 a - year, he was hopelessly in debt. He had quarrelled with most of his - brothers, particularly with the Prince Regent, and it was only natural - that he should have joined the political Opposition and become a pillar of - the Whigs. - </p> - <p> - What his political opinions may actually have been is open to doubt; it - has often been asserted that he was a Liberal, or even a Radical; and, if - we are to believe Robert Owen, he was a necessitarian Socialist. His - relations with Owen—the shrewd, gullible, high-minded, wrong-headed, - illustrious and preposterous father of Socialism and Co-operation—were - curious and characteristic. He talked of visiting the Mills at New Lanark, - he did, in fact, preside at one of Owen's public meetings; he corresponded - with him on confidential terms, and he even (so Owen assures us) returned, - after his death, from "the sphere of spirits" to give encouragement to the - Owenites on earth. "In an especial manner," says Owen, "I have to name the - very anxious feelings of the spirit of his Royal Highness the Late Duke of - Kent (who early informed me that there were no titles in the spititual - spheres into which he had entered), to benefit, not a class, a sect, a - party, or any particular country, but the whole of the human race, through - futurity." "His whole spirit-proceeding with me has been most beautiful," - Owen adds, "making his own appointments; and never in one instance has - this spirit not been punctual to the minute he had named." But Owen was of - a sanguine temperament. He also numbered among his proselytes President - Jefferson, Prince Metternich, and Napoleon; so that some uncertainty must - still linger over the Duke of Kent's views. But there is no uncertainty - about another circumstance: his Royal Highness borrowed from Robert Owen, - on various occasions, various sums of money which were never repaid and - amounted in all to several hundred pounds. - </p> - <p> - After the death of the Princess Charlotte it was clearly important, for - more than one reason, that the Duke of Kent should marry. From the point - of view of the nation, the lack of heirs in the reigning family seemed to - make the step almost obligatory; it was also likely to be highly expedient - from the point of view of the Duke. To marry as a public duty, for the - sake of the royal succession, would surely deserve some recognition from a - grateful country. When the Duke of York had married he had received a - settlement of L25,000 a year. Why should not the Duke of Kent look forward - to an equal sum? But the situation was not quite simple. There was the - Duke of Clarence to be considered; he was the elder brother, and, if HE - married, would clearly have the prior claim. On the other hand, if the - Duke of Kent married, it was important to remember that he would be making - a serious sacrifice: a lady was involved. - </p> - <p> - The Duke, reflecting upon all these matters with careful attention, - happened, about a month after his niece's death, to visit Brussels, and - learnt that Mr. Creevey was staying in the town. Mr. Creevey was a close - friend of the leading Whigs and an inveterate gossip; and it occurred to - the Duke that there could be no better channel through which to - communicate his views upon the situation to political circles at home. - Apparently it did not occur to him that Mr. Creevey was malicious and - might keep a diary. He therefore sent for him on some trivial pretext, and - a remarkable conversation ensued. - </p> - <p> - After referring to the death of the Princess, to the improbability of the - Regent's seeking a divorce, to the childlessness of the Duke of York, and - to the possibility of the Duke of Clarence marrying, the Duke adverted to - his own position. "Should the Duke of Clarence not marry," he said, "the - next prince in succession is myself, and although I trust I shall be at - all times ready to obey any call my country may make upon me, God only - knows the sacrifice it will be to make, whenever I shall think it my duty - to become a married man. It is now seven and twenty years that Madame St. - Laurent and I have lived together: we are of the same age, and have been - in all climates, and in all difficulties together, and you may well - imagine, Mr. Creevey, the pang it will occasion me to part with her. I put - it to your own feelings—in the event of any separation between you - and Mrs. Creevey... As for Madame St. Laurent herself, I protest I don't - know what is to become of her if a marriage is to be forced upon me; her - feelings are already so agitated upon the subject." The Duke went on to - describe how, one morning, a day or two after the Princess Charlotte's - death, a paragraph had appeared in the Morning Chronicle, alluding to the - possibility of his marriage. He had received the newspaper at breakfast - together with his letters, and "I did as is my constant practice, I threw - the newspaper across the table to Madame St. Laurent, and began to open - and read my letters. I had not done so but a very short time, when my - attention was called to an extraordinary noise and a strong convulsive - movement in Madame St. Laurent's throat. For a short time I entertained - serious apprehensions for her safety; and when, upon her recovery, I - enquired into the occasion of this attack, she pointed to the article in - the Morning Chronicle." - </p> - <p> - The Duke then returned to the subject of the Duke of Clarence. "My brother - the Duke of Clarence is the elder brother, and has certainly the right to - marry if he chooses, and I would not interfere with him on any account. If - he wishes to be king—to be married and have children, poor man—God - help him! Let him do so. For myself—I am a man of no ambition, and - wish only to remain as I am... Easter, you know, falls very early this - year—the 22nd of March. If the Duke of Clarence does not take any - step before that time, I must find some pretext to reconcile Madame St. - Laurent to my going to England for a short time. When once there, it will - be easy for me to consult with my friends as to the proper steps to be - taken. Should the Duke of Clarence do nothing before that time as to - marrying it will become my duty, no doubt, to take some measures upon the - subject myself." Two names, the Duke said, had been mentioned in this - connection—those of the Princess of Baden and the Princess of - Saxe-Coburg. The latter, he thought, would perhaps be the better of the - two, from the circumstance of Prince Leopold being so popular with the - nation; but before any other steps were taken, he hoped and expected to - see justice done to Madame St. Laurent. "She is," he explained, "of very - good family, and has never been an actress, and I am the first and only - person who ever lived with her. Her disinterestedness, too, has been equal - to her fidelity. When she first came to me it was upon L100 a year. That - sum was afterwards raised to L400 and finally to L1000; but when my debts - made it necessary for me to sacrifice a great part of my income, Madame - St. Laurent insisted upon again returning to her income of L400 a year. If - Madame St. Laurent is to return to live amongst her friends, it must be in - such a state of independence as to command their respect. I shall not - require very much, but a certain number of servants and a carriage are - essentials." As to his own settlement, the Duke observed that he would - expect the Duke of York's marriage to be considered the precedent. "That," - he said, "was a marriage for the succession, and L25,000 for income was - settled, in addition to all his other income, purely on that account. I - shall be contented with the same arrangement, without making any demands - grounded on the difference of the value of money in 1792 and at present. - As for the payment of my debts," the Duke concluded, "I don't call them - great. The nation, on the contrary, is greatly my debtor." Here a clock - struck, and seemed to remind the Duke that he had an appointment; he rose, - and Mr. Creevey left him. - </p> - <p> - Who could keep such a communication secret? Certainly not Mr. Creevey. He - hurried off to tell the Duke of Wellington, who was very much amused, and - he wrote a long account of it to Lord Sefton, who received the letter - "very apropos," while a surgeon was sounding his bladder to ascertain - whether he had a stone. "I never saw a fellow more astonished than he - was," wrote Lord Sefton in his reply, "at seeing me laugh as soon as the - operation was over. Nothing could be more first-rate than the royal - Edward's ingenuousness. One does not know which to admire most—the - delicacy of his attachment to Madame St. Laurent, the refinement of his - sentiments towards the Duke of Clarence, or his own perfect - disinterestedness in pecuniary matters." - </p> - <p> - As it turned out, both the brothers decided to marry. The Duke of Kent, - selecting the Princess of Saxe-Coburg in preference to the Princess of - Baden, was united to her on May 29, 1818. On June 11, the Duke of Clarence - followed suit with a daughter of the Duke of Saxe-Meiningen. But they were - disappointed in their financial expectations; for though the Government - brought forward proposals to increase their allowances, together with that - of the Duke of Cumberland, the motions were defeated in the House of - Commons. At this the Duke of Wellington was not surprised. "By God!" he - said, "there is a great deal to be said about that. They are the damnedest - millstones about the necks of any Government that can be imagined. They - have insulted—PERSONALLY insulted—two-thirds of the gentlemen - of England, and how can it be wondered at that they take their revenge - upon them in the House of Commons? It is their only opportunity, and I - think, by God! they are quite right to use it." Eventually, however, - Parliament increased the Duke of Kent's annuity by L6000. The subsequent - history of Madame St. Laurent has not transpired. - </p> - <p> - IV - </p> - <p> - The new Duchess of Kent, Victoria Mary Louisa, was a daughter of Francis, - Duke of Saxe-Coburg-Saalfeld, and a sister of Prince Leopold. The family - was an ancient one, being a branch of the great House of Wettin, which - since the eleventh century had ruled over the March of Meissen on the - Elbe. In the fifteenth century the whole possessions of the House had been - divided between the Albertine and Ernestine branches: from the former - descended the electors and kings of Saxony; the latter, ruling over - Thuringia, became further subdivided into five branches, of which the - duchy of Saxe-Coburg was one. This principality was very small, containing - about 60,000 inhabitants, but it enjoyed independent and sovereign rights. - During the disturbed years which followed the French Revolution, its - affairs became terribly involved. The Duke was extravagant, and kept open - house for the swarms of refugees, who fled eastward over Germany as the - French power advanced. Among these was the Prince of Leiningen, an elderly - beau, whose domains on the Moselle had been seized by the French, but who - was granted in compensation the territory of Amorbach in Lower Franconia. - In 1803 he married the Princess Victoria, at that time seventeen years of - age. Three years later Duke Francis died a ruined man. The Napoleonic - harrow passed over Saxe-Coburg. The duchy was seized by the French, and - the ducal family were reduced to beggary, almost to starvation. At the - same time the little principality of Amorbach was devastated by the - French, Russian, and Austrian armies, marching and counter-marching across - it. For years there was hardly a cow in the country, nor enough grass to - feed a flock of geese. Such was the desperate plight of the family which, - a generation later, was to have gained a foothold in half the reigning - Houses of Europe. The Napoleonic harrow had indeed done its work, the seed - was planted; and the crop would have surprised Napoleon. Prince Leopold, - thrown upon his own resources at fifteen, made a career for himself and - married the heiress of England. The Princess of Leiningen, struggling at - Amorbach with poverty, military requisitions, and a futile husband, - developed an independence of character and a tenacity of purpose which - were to prove useful in very different circumstances. In 1814, her husband - died, leaving her with two children and the regency of the principality. - After her brother's marriage with the Princess Charlotte, it was proposed - that she should marry the Duke of Kent; but she declined, on the ground - that the guardianship of her children and the management of her domains - made other ties undesirable. The Princess Charlotte's death, however, - altered the case; and when the Duke of Kent renewed his offer, she - accepted it. She was thirty-two years old—short, stout, with brown - eyes and hair, and rosy cheeks, cheerful and voluble, and gorgeously - attired in rustling silks and bright velvets. - </p> - <p> - She was certainly fortunate in her contented disposition; for she was - fated, all through her life, to have much to put up with. Her second - marriage, with its dubious prospects, seemed at first to be chiefly a - source of difficulties and discomforts. The Duke, declaring that he was - still too poor to live in England, moved about with uneasy precision - through Belgium and Germany, attending parades and inspecting barracks in - a neat military cap, while the English notabilities looked askance, and - the Duke of Wellington dubbed him the Corporal. "God damme!" he exclaimed - to Mr. Creevey, "d'ye know what his sisters call him? By God! they call - him Joseph Surface!" At Valenciennes, where there was a review and a great - dinner, the Duchess arrived with an old and ugly lady-in-waiting, and the - Duke of Wellington found himself in a difficulty. "Who the devil is to - take out the maid of honour?" he kept asking; but at last he thought of a - solution. "Damme, Freemantle, find out the mayor and let him do it." So - the Mayor of Valenciennes was brought up for the purpose, and—so we - learn from Mr. Creevey—"a capital figure he was." A few days later, - at Brussels, Mr. Creevey himself had an unfortunate experience. A military - school was to be inspected—before breakfast. The company assembled; - everything was highly satisfactory; but the Duke of Kent continued for so - long examining every detail and asking meticulous question after - meticulous question, that Mr. Creevey at last could bear it no longer, and - whispered to his neighbour that he was damned hungry. The Duke of - Wellington heard him, and was delighted. "I recommend you," he said, - "whenever you start with the royal family in a morning, and particularly - with THE CORPORAL, always to breakfast first." He and his staff, it turned - out, had taken that precaution, and the great man amused himself, while - the stream of royal inquiries poured on, by pointing at Mr. Creevey from - time to time with the remark, "Voila le monsieur qui n'a pas dejeune!" - </p> - <p> - Settled down at last at Amorbach, the time hung heavily on the Duke's - hands. The establishment was small, the country was impoverished; even - clock-making grew tedious at last. He brooded—for in spite of his - piety the Duke was not without a vein of superstition—over the - prophecy of a gipsy at Gibraltar who told him that he was to have many - losses and crosses, that he was to die in happiness, and that his only - child was to be a great queen. Before long it became clear that a child - was to be expected: the Duke decided that it should be born in England. - Funds were lacking for the journey, but his determination was not to be - set aside. Come what might, he declared, his child must be English-born. A - carriage was hired, and the Duke himself mounted the box. Inside were the - Duchess, her daughter Feodora, a girl of fourteen, with maids, nurses, - lap-dogs, and canaries. Off they drove—through Germany, through - France: bad roads, cheap inns, were nothing to the rigorous Duke and the - equable, abundant Duchess. The Channel was crossed, London was reached in - safety. The authorities provided a set of rooms in Kensington Palace; and - there, on May 24, 1819, a female infant was born. - </p> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER II. CHILDHOOD - </h2> - <h3> - I - </h3> - <p> - The child who, in these not very impressive circumstances, appeared in the - world, received but scant attention. There was small reason to foresee her - destiny. The Duchess of Clarence, two months before, had given birth to a - daughter, this infant, indeed, had died almost immediately; but it seemed - highly probable that the Duchess would again become a mother; and so it - actually fell out. More than this, the Duchess of Kent was young, and the - Duke was strong; there was every likelihood that before long a brother - would follow, to snatch her faint chance of the succession from the little - princess. - </p> - <p> - Nevertheless, the Duke had other views: there were prophecies... At any - rate, he would christen the child Elizabeth, a name of happy augury. In - this, however, he reckoned without the Regent, who, seeing a chance of - annoying his brother, suddenly announced that he himself would be present - at the baptism, and signified at the same time that one of the godfathers - was to be the Emperor Alexander of Russia. And so when the ceremony took - place, and the Archbishop of Canterbury asked by what name he was to - baptise the child, the Regent replied "Alexandria." At this the Duke - ventured to suggest that another name might be added. "Certainly," said - the Regent; "Georgina?" "Or Elizabeth?" said the Duke. There was a pause, - during which the Archbishop, with the baby in his lawn sleeves, looked - with some uneasiness from one Prince to the other. "Very well, then," said - the Regent at last, "call her after her mother. But Alexandrina must come - first." Thus, to the disgust of her father, the child was christened - Alexandrina Victoria. - </p> - <p> - The Duke had other subjects of disgust. The meagre grant of the Commons - had by no means put an end to his financial distresses. It was to be - feared that his services were not appreciated by the nation. His debts - continued to grow. For many years he had lived upon L7000 a year; but now - his expenses were exactly doubled; he could make no further reductions; as - it was, there was not a single servant in his meagre grant establishment - who was idle for a moment from morning to night. He poured out his griefs - in a long letter to Robert Owen, whose sympathy had the great merit of - being practical. "I now candidly state," he wrote, "that, after viewing - the subject in every possible way, I am satisfied that, to continue to - live in England, even in the quiet way in which we are going on, WITHOUT - SPLENDOUR, and WITHOUT SHOW, NOTHING SHORT OF DOUBLING THE SEVEN THOUSAND - POUNDS WILL DO, REDUCTION BEING IMPOSSIBLE." It was clear that he would be - obliged to sell his house for L51,300, if that failed, he would go and - live on the Continent. "If my services are useful to my country, it surely - becomes THOSE WHO HAVE THE POWER to support me in substantiating those - just claims I have for the very extensive losses and privations I have - experienced, during the very long period of my professional servitude in - the Colonies; and if this is not attainable, IT IS A CLEAR PROOF TO ME - THAT THEY ARE THEY ARE NOT APPRECIATED; and under that impression I shall - not scruple, in DUE time, to resume my retirement abroad, when the Duchess - and myself shall have fulfilled our duties in establishing the ENGLISH - birth of my child, and giving it material nutriment on the soil of Old - England; and which we shall certainly repeat, if Providence destines, to - give us any further increase of family." - </p> - <p> - In the meantime, he decided to spend the winter at Sidmouth, "in order," - he told Owen, "that the Duchess may have the benefit of tepid sea bathing, - and our infant that of sea air, on the fine coast of Devonshire, during - the months of the year that are so odious in London." In December the move - was made. With the new year, the Duke remembered another prophecy. In - 1820, a fortune-teller had told him, two members of the Royal Family would - die. Who would they be? He speculated on the various possibilities: The - King, it was plain, could not live much longer; and the Duchess of York - had been attacked by a mortal disease. Probably it would be the King and - the Duchess of York; or perhaps the King and the Duke of York; or the King - and the Regent. He himself was one of the healthiest men in England. "My - brothers," he declared, "are not so strong as I am; I have lived a regular - life. I shall outlive them all. The crown will come to me and my - children." He went out for a walk, and got his feet wet. On coming home, - he neglected to change his stockings. He caught cold, inflammation of the - lungs set in, and on January 22 he was a dying man. By a curious chance, - young Dr. Stockmar was staying in the house at the time; two years before, - he had stood by the death-bed of the Princess Charlotte; and now he was - watching the Duke of Kent in his agony. On Stockmar's advice, a will was - hastily prepared. The Duke's earthly possessions were of a negative - character; but it was important that the guardianship of the unwitting - child, whose fortunes were now so strangely changing, should be assured to - the Duchess. The Duke was just able to understand the document, and to - append his signature. Having inquired whether his writing was perfectly - clear, he became unconscious, and breathed his last on the following - morning! Six days later came the fulfilment of the second half of the - gipsy's prophecy. The long, unhappy, and inglorious life of George the - Third of England was ended. - </p> - <p> - II - </p> - <p> - Such was the confusion of affairs at Sidmouth, that the Duchess found - herself without the means of returning to London. Prince Leopold hurried - down, and himself conducted his sister and her family, by slow and bitter - stages, to Kensington. The widowed lady, in her voluminous blacks, needed - all her equanimity to support her. Her prospects were more dubious than - ever. She had L6000 a year of her own; but her husband's debts loomed - before her like a mountain. Soon she learnt that the Duchess of Clarence - was once more expecting a child. What had she to look forward to in - England? Why should she remain in a foreign country, among strangers, - whose language she could not speak, whose customs she could not - understand? Surely it would be best to return to Amorbach, and there, - among her own people, bring up her daughters in economical obscurity. But - she was an inveterate optimist; she had spent her life in struggles, and - would not be daunted now; and besides, she adored her baby. "C'est mon - bonheur, mes delices, mon existence," she declared; the darling should be - brought up as an English princess, whatever lot awaited her. Prince - Leopold came forward nobly with an offer of an additional L3000 a year; - and the Duchess remained at Kensington. - </p> - <p> - The child herself was extremely fat, and bore a remarkable resemblance to - her grandfather. "C'est l'image du feu Roi!" exclaimed the Duchess. "C'est - le Roi Georges en jupons," echoed the surrounding ladies, as the little - creature waddled with difficulty from one to the other. - </p> - <p> - Before long, the world began to be slightly interested in the nursery at - Kensington. When, early in 1821, the Duchess of Clarence's second child, - the Princess Elizabeth, died within three months of its birth, the - interest increased. Great forces and fierce antagonisms seemed to be - moving, obscurely, about the royal cradle. It was a time of faction and - anger, of violent repression and profound discontent. A powerful movement, - which had for long been checked by adverse circumstances, was now - spreading throughout the country. New passions, new desires, were abroad; - or rather old passions and old desires, reincarnated with a new potency: - love of freedom, hatred of injustice, hope for the future of man. The - mighty still sat proudly in their seats, dispensing their ancient tyranny; - but a storm was gathering out of the darkness, and already there was - lightning in the sky. But the vastest forces must needs operate through - frail human instruments; and it seemed for many years as if the great - cause of English liberalism hung upon the life of the little girl at - Kensington. She alone stood between the country and her terrible uncle, - the Duke of Cumberland, the hideous embodiment of reaction. Inevitably, - the Duchess of Kent threw in her lot with her husband's party; Whig - leaders, Radical agitators, rallied round her; she was intimate with the - bold Lord Durham, she was on friendly terms with the redoubtable O'Connell - himself. She received Wilberforce-though, to be sure, she did not ask him - to sit down. She declared in public that she put her faith in "the - liberties of the People." It was certain that the young Princess would be - brought up in the way that she should go; yet there, close behind the - throne, waiting, sinister, was the Duke of Cumberland. Brougham, looking - forward into the future in his scurrilous fashion, hinted at dreadful - possibilities. "I never prayed so heartily for a Prince before," he wrote, - on hearing that George IV had been attacked by illness. "If he had gone, - all the troubles of these villains (the Tory Ministers) went with him, and - they had Fred. I (the Duke of York) their own man for his life. He (Fred. - I) won't live long either; that Prince of Blackguards, 'Brother William,' - is as bad a life, so we come in the course of nature to be ASSASSINATED by - King Ernest I or Regent Ernest (the Duke of Cumberland)." Such thoughts - were not peculiar to Brougham; in the seething state of public feeling, - they constantly leapt to the surface; and, even so late as the year - previous to her accession, the Radical newspapers were full of suggestions - that the Princess Victoria was in danger from the machinations of her - wicked uncle. - </p> - <p> - But no echo of these conflicts and forebodings reached the little Drina—for - so she was called in the family circle—as she played with her dolls, - or scampered down the passages, or rode on the donkey her uncle York had - given her along the avenues of Kensington Gardens The fair-haired, - blue-eyed child was idolised by her nurses, and her mother's ladies, and - her sister Feodora; and for a few years there was danger, in spite of her - mother's strictness, of her being spoilt. From time to time, she would fly - into a violent passion, stamp her little foot, and set everyone at - defiance; whatever they might say, she would not learn her letters—no, - she WOULD NOT; afterwards, she was very sorry, and burst into tears; but - her letters remained unlearnt. When she was five years old, however, a - change came, with the appearance of Fraulein Lehzen. This lady, who was - the daughter of a Hanoverian clergyman, and had previously been the - Princess Feodora's governess, soon succeeded in instilling a new spirit - into her charge. At first, indeed, she was appalled by the little - Princess's outbursts of temper; never in her life, she declared, had she - seen such a passionate and naughty child. Then she observed something - else; the child was extraordinarily truthful; whatever punishment might - follow, she never told a lie. Firm, very firm, the new governess yet had - the sense to see that all the firmness in the world would be useless, - unless she could win her way into little Drina's heart. She did so, and - there were no more difficulties. Drina learnt her letters like an angel; - and she learnt other things as well. The Baroness de Spath taught her how - to make little board boxes and decorate them with tinsel and painted - flowers; her mother taught her religion. Sitting in the pew every Sunday - morning, the child of six was seen listening in rapt attention to the - clergyman's endless sermon, for she was to be examined upon it in the - afternoon. The Duchess was determined that her daughter, from the earliest - possible moment, should be prepared for her high station in a way that - would commend itself to the most respectable; her good, plain, thrifty - German mind recoiled with horror and amazement from the shameless - junketings at Carlton House; Drina should never be allowed to forget for a - moment the virtues of simplicity, regularity, propriety, and devotion. The - little girl, however, was really in small need of such lessons, for she - was naturally simple and orderly, she was pious without difficulty, and - her sense of propriety was keen. She understood very well the niceties of - her own position. When, a child of six, Lady Jane Ellice was taken by her - grandmother to Kensington Palace, she was put to play with the Princess - Victoria, who was the same age as herself. The young visitor, ignorant of - etiquette, began to make free with the toys on the floor, in a way which - was a little too familiar; but "You must not touch those," she was quickly - told, "they are mine; and I may call you Jane, but you must not call me - Victoria." The Princess's most constant playmate was Victoire, the - daughter of Sir John Conroy, the Duchess's major-domo. The two girls were - very fond of one another; they would walk hand in hand together in - Kensington Gardens. But little Drina was perfectly aware for which of them - it was that they were followed, at a respectful distance, by a gigantic - scarlet flunkey. - </p> - <p> - Warm-hearted, responsive, she loved her dear Lehzen, and she loved her - dear Feodora, and her dear Victoire, and her dear Madame de Spath. And her - dear Mamma, of course, she loved her too; it was her duty; and yet—she - could not tell why it was—she was always happier when she was - staying with her Uncle Leopold at Claremont. There old Mrs. Louis, who, - years ago, had waited on her Cousin Charlotte, petted her to her heart's - content; and her uncle himself was wonderfully kind to her, talking to her - seriously and gently, almost as if she were a grown-up person. She and - Feodora invariably wept when the too-short visit was over, and they were - obliged to return to the dutiful monotony, and the affectionate - supervision of Kensington. But sometimes when her mother had to stay at - home, she was allowed to go out driving all alone with her dear Feodora - and her dear Lehzen, and she could talk and look as she liked, and it was - very delightful. - </p> - <p> - The visits to Claremont were frequent enough; but one day, on a special - occasion, she paid one of a rarer and more exciting kind. When she was - seven years old, she and her mother and sister were asked by the King to - go down to Windsor. George IV, who had transferred his fraternal - ill-temper to his sister-in-law and her family, had at last grown tired of - sulking, and decided to be agreeable. The old rip, bewigged and gouty, - ornate and enormous, with his jewelled mistress by his side and his - flaunting court about him, received the tiny creature who was one day to - hold in those same halls a very different state. "Give me your little - paw," he said; and two ages touched. Next morning, driving in his phaeton - with the Duchess of Gloucester, he met the Duchess of Kent and her child - in the Park. "Pop her in," were his orders, which, to the terror of the - mother and the delight of the daughter, were immediately obeyed. Off they - dashed to Virginia Water, where there was a great barge, full of lords and - ladies fishing, and another barge with a band; and the King ogled Feodora, - and praised her manners, and then turned to his own small niece. "What is - your favourite tune? The band shall play it." "God save the King, sir," - was the instant answer. The Princess's reply has been praised as an early - example of a tact which was afterwards famous. But she was a very truthful - child, and perhaps it was her genuine opinion. - </p> - <p> - III - </p> - <p> - In 1827 the Duke of York, who had found some consolation for the loss of - his wife in the sympathy of the Duchess of Rutland, died, leaving behind - him the unfinished immensity of Stafford House and L200,000 worth of - debts. Three years later George IV also disappeared, and the Duke of - Clarence reigned in his stead. The new Queen, it was now clear, would in - all probability never again be a mother; the Princess Victoria, therefore, - was recognised by Parliament as heir-presumptive; and the Duchess of Kent, - whose annuity had been doubled five years previously, was now given an - additional L10,000 for the maintenance of the Princess, and was appointed - regent, in case of the death of the King before the majority of her - daughter. At the same time a great convulsion took place in the - constitution of the State. The power of the Tories, who had dominated - England for more than forty years, suddenly began to crumble. In the - tremendous struggle that followed, it seemed for a moment as if the - tradition of generations might be snapped, as if the blind tenacity of the - reactionaries and the determined fury of their enemies could have no other - issue than revolution. But the forces of compromise triumphed: the Reform - Bill was passed. The centre of gravity in the constitution was shifted - towards the middle classes; the Whigs came into power; and the complexion - of the Government assumed a Liberal tinge. One of the results of this new - state of affairs was a change in the position of the Duchess of Kent and - her daughter. From being the protegees of an opposition clique, they - became assets of the official majority of the nation. The Princess - Victoria was henceforward the living symbol of the victory of the middle - classes. - </p> - <p> - The Duke of Cumberland, on the other hand, suffered a corresponding - eclipse: his claws had been pared by the Reform Act. He grew insignificant - and almost harmless, though his ugliness remained; he was the wicked uncle - still—but only of a story. - </p> - <p> - The Duchess's own liberalism was not very profound. She followed naturally - in the footsteps of her husband, repeating with conviction the catchwords - of her husband's clever friends and the generalisations of her clever - brother Leopold. She herself had no pretensions to cleverness; she did not - understand very much about the Poor Law and the Slave Trade and Political - Economy; but she hoped that she did her duty; and she hoped—she - ardently hoped—that the same might be said of Victoria. Her - educational conceptions were those of Dr. Arnold, whose views were just - then beginning to permeate society. Dr. Arnold's object was, first and - foremost, to make his pupils "in the highest and truest sense of the - words, Christian gentlemen," intellectual refinements might follow. The - Duchess felt convinced that it was her supreme duty in life to make quite - sure that her daughter should grow up into a Christian queen. To this task - she bent all her energies; and, as the child developed, she flattered - herself that her efforts were not unsuccessful. When the Princess was - eleven, she desired the Bishops of London and Lincoln to submit her - daughter to an examination, and report upon the progress that had been - made. "I feel the time to be now come," the Duchess explained, in a letter - obviously drawn up by her own hand, "that what has been done should be put - to some test, that if anything has been done in error of judgment it may - be corrected, and that the plan for the future should be open to - consideration and revision... I attend almost always myself every lesson, - or a part; and as the lady about the Princess is a competent person, she - assists Her in preparing Her lessons, for the various masters, as I - resolved to act in that manner so as to be Her Governess myself. When she - was at a proper age she commenced attending Divine Service regularly with - me, and I have every feeling that she has religion at Her heart, that she - is morally impressed with it to that degree, that she is less liable to - error by its application to her feelings as a Child capable of - reflection." "The general bent of Her character," added the Duchess, "is - strength of intellect, capable of receiving with ease, information, and - with a peculiar readiness in coming to a very just and benignant decision - on any point Her opinion is asked on. Her adherence to truth is of so - marked a character that I feel no apprehension of that Bulwark being - broken down by any circumstances." The Bishops attended at the Palace, and - the result of their examination was all that could be wished. "In - answering a great variety of questions proposed to her," they reported, - "the Princess displayed an accurate knowledge of the most important - features of Scripture History, and of the leading truths and precepts of - the Christian Religion as taught by the Church of England, as well as an - acquaintance with the Chronology and principal facts of English History - remarkable in so young a person. To questions in Geography, the use of the - Globes, Arithmetic, and Latin Grammar, the answers which the Princess - returned were equally satisfactory." They did not believe that the - Duchess's plan of education was susceptible of any improvement; and the - Archbishop of Canterbury, who was also consulted, came to the same - gratifying conclusion. - </p> - <p> - One important step, however, remained to be taken. So far, as the Duchess - explained to the Bishops, the Princess had been kept in ignorance of the - station that she was likely to fill. "She is aware of its duties, and that - a Sovereign should live for others; so that when Her innocent mind - receives the impression of Her future fate, she receives it with a mind - formed to be sensible of what is to be expected from Her, and it is to be - hoped, she will be too well grounded in Her principles to be dazzled with - the station she is to look to." In the following year it was decided that - she should be enlightened on this point. The well—known scene - followed: the history lesson, the genealogical table of the Kings of - England slipped beforehand by the governess into the book, the Princess's - surprise, her inquiries, her final realisation of the facts. When the - child at last understood, she was silent for a moment, and then she spoke: - "I will be good," she said. The words were something more than a - conventional protestation, something more than the expression of a - superimposed desire; they were, in their limitation and their intensity, - their egotism and their humility, an instinctive summary of the dominating - qualities of a life. "I cried much on learning it," her Majesty noted long - afterwards. No doubt, while the others were present, even her dear Lehzen, - the little girl kept up her self-command; and then crept away somewhere to - ease her heart of an inward, unfamiliar agitation, with a handkerchief, - out of her mother's sight. - </p> - <p> - But her mother's sight was by no means an easy thing to escape. Morning - and evening, day and night, there was no relaxation of the maternal - vigilance. The child grew into the girl, the girl into the young woman; - but still she slept in her mother's bedroom; still she had no place - allowed her where she might sit or work by herself. An extraordinary - watchfulness surrounded her every step: up to the day of her accession, - she never went downstairs without someone beside her holding her hand. - Plainness and regularity ruled the household. The hours, the days, the - years passed slowly and methodically by. The dolls—the innumerable - dolls, each one so neatly dressed, each one with its name so punctiliously - entered in the catalogue—were laid aside, and a little music and a - little dancing took their place. Taglioni came, to give grace and dignity - to the figure, and Lablache, to train the piping treble upon his own rich - bass. The Dean of Chester, the official preceptor, continued his endless - instruction in Scripture history, while the Duchess of Northumberland, the - official governess, presided over every lesson with becoming solemnity. - Without doubt, the Princess's main achievement during her school-days was - linguistic. German was naturally the first language with which she was - familiar; but English and French quickly followed; and she became - virtually trilingual, though her mastery of English grammar remained - incomplete. At the same time, she acquired a working knowledge of Italian - and some smattering of Latin. Nevertheless, she did not read very much. It - was not an occupation that she cared for; partly, perhaps, because the - books that were given her were all either sermons, which were very dull, - or poetry, which was incomprehensible. Novels were strictly forbidden. - Lord Durham persuaded her mother to get her some of Miss Martineau's - tales, illustrating the truths of Political Economy, and they delighted - her; but it is to be feared that it was the unaccustomed pleasure of the - story that filled her mind, and that she never really mastered the theory - of exchanges or the nature of rent. - </p> - <p> - It was her misfortune that the mental atmosphere which surrounded her - during these years of adolescence was almost entirely feminine. No father, - no brother, was there to break in upon the gentle monotony of the daily - round with impetuosity, with rudeness, with careless laughter and wafts of - freedom from the outside world. The Princess was never called by a voice - that was loud and growling; never felt, as a matter of course, a hard - rough cheek on her own soft one; never climbed a wall with a boy. The - visits to Claremont—delicious little escapes into male society—came - to an end when she was eleven years old and Prince Leopold left England to - be King of the Belgians. She loved him still; he was still "il mio secondo - padre or, rather, solo padre, for he is indeed like my real father, as I - have none;" but his fatherliness now came to her dimly and indirectly, - through the cold channel of correspondence. Henceforward female duty, - female elegance, female enthusiasm, hemmed her completely in; and her - spirit, amid the enclosing folds, was hardly reached by those two great - influences, without which no growing life can truly prosper—humour - and imagination. The Baroness Lehzen—for she had been raised to that - rank in the Hanoverian nobility by George IV before he died—was the - real centre of the Princess's world. When Feodora married, when Uncle - Leopold went to Belgium, the Baroness was left without a competitor. The - Princess gave her mother her dutiful regards; but Lehzen had her heart. - The voluble, shrewd daughter of the pastor in Hanover, lavishing her - devotion on her royal charge, had reaped her reward in an unbounded - confidence and a passionate adoration. The girl would have gone through - fire for her "PRECIOUS Lehzen," the "best and truest friend," she - declared, that she had had since her birth. Her journal, begun when she - was thirteen, where she registered day by day the small succession of her - doings and her sentiments, bears on every page of it the traces of the - Baroness and her circumambient influence. The young creature that one sees - there, self-depicted in ingenuous clarity, with her sincerity, her - simplicity, her quick affections and pious resolutions, might almost have - been the daughter of a German pastor herself. Her enjoyments, her - admirations, her engouements were of the kind that clothed themselves - naturally in underlinings and exclamation marks. "It was a DELIGHTFUL - ride. We cantered a good deal. SWEET LITTLE ROSY WENT BEAUTIFULLY!! We - came home at a 1/4 past 1... At 20 minutes to 7 we went out to the - Opera... Rubini came on and sang a song out of 'Anna Boulena' QUITE - BEAUTIFULLY. We came home at 1/2 past 11." In her comments on her - readings, the mind of the Baroness is clearly revealed. One day, by some - mistake, she was allowed to take up a volume of memoirs by Fanny Kemble. - "It is certainly very pertly and oddly written. One would imagine by the - style that the authoress must be very pert, and not well bred; for there - are so many vulgar expressions in it. It is a great pity that a person - endowed with so much talent, as Mrs. Butler really is, should turn it to - so little account and publish a book which is so full of trash and - nonsense which can only do her harm. I stayed up till 20 minutes past 9." - Madame de Sevigne's letters, which the Baroness read aloud, met with more - approval. "How truly elegant and natural her style is! It is so full of - naivete, cleverness, and grace." But her highest admiration was reserved - for the Bishop of Chester's 'Exposition of the Gospel of St. Matthew.' "It - is a very fine book indeed. Just the sort of one I like; which is just - plain and comprehensible and full of truth and good feeling. It is not one - of those learned books in which you have to cavil at almost every - paragraph. Lehzen gave it me on the Sunday that I took the Sacrament." A - few weeks previously she had been confirmed, and she described the event - as follows: "I felt that my confirmation was one of the most solemn and - important events and acts in my life; and that I trusted that it might - have a salutary effect on my mind. I felt deeply repentant for all what I - had done which was wrong and trusted in God Almighty to strengthen my - heart and mind; and to forsake all that is bad and follow all that is - virtuous and right. I went with the firm determination to become a true - Christian, to try and comfort my dear Mamma in all her griefs, trials, and - anxieties, and to become a dutiful and affectionate daughter to her. Also - to be obedient to DEAR Lehzen, who has done so much for me. I was dressed - in a white lace dress, with a white crepe bonnet with a wreath of white - roses round it. I went in the chariot with my dear Mamma and the others - followed in another carriage." One seems to hold in one's hand a small - smooth crystal pebble, without a flaw and without a scintillation, and so - transparent that one can see through it at a glance. - </p> - <p> - Yet perhaps, after all, to the discerning eye, the purity would not be - absolute. The careful searcher might detect, in the virgin soil, the first - faint traces of an unexpected vein. In that conventual existence visits - were exciting events; and, as the Duchess had many relatives, they were - not infrequent; aunts and uncles would often appear from Germany, and - cousins too. When the Princess was fourteen she was delighted by the - arrival of a couple of boys from Wurtemberg, the Princes Alexander and - Ernst, sons of her mother's sister and the reigning duke. "They are both - EXTREMELY TALL," she noted, "Alexander is VERY HANDSOME, and Ernst has a - VERY KIND EXPRESSION. They are both extremely AMIABLE." And their - departure filled her with corresponding regrets. "We saw them get into the - barge, and watched them sailing away for some time on the beach. They were - so amiable and so pleasant to have in the house; they were ALWAYS - SATISFIED, ALWAYS GOOD-HUMOURED; Alexander took such care of me in getting - out of the boat, and rode next to me; so did Ernst." Two years later, two - other cousins arrived, the Princes Ferdinand and Augustus. "Dear - Ferdinand," the Princess wrote, "has elicited universal admiration from - all parties... He is so very unaffected, and has such a very distinguished - appearance and carriage. They are both very dear and charming young men. - Augustus is very amiable, too, and, when known, shows much good sense." On - another occasion, "Dear Ferdinand came and sat near me and talked so - dearly and sensibly. I do SO love him. Dear Augustus sat near me and - talked with me, and he is also a dear good young man, and is very - handsome." She could not quite decide which was the handsomer of the two. - "On the whole," she concluded, "I think Ferdinand handsomer than Augustus, - his eyes are so beautiful, and he has such a lively clever expression; - BOTH have such a sweet expression; Ferdinand has something QUITE BEAUTIFUL - in his expression when he speaks and smiles, and he is SO good." However, - it was perhaps best to say that they were "both very handsome and VERY - DEAR." But shortly afterwards two more cousins arrived, who threw all the - rest into the shade. These were the Princes Ernest and Albert, sons of her - mother's eldest brother, the Duke of Saxe-Coburg. This time the Princess - was more particular in her observations. "Ernest," she remarked, "is as - tall as Ferdinand and Augustus; he has dark hair, and fine dark eyes and - eyebrows, but the nose and mouth are not good; he has a most kind, honest, - and intelligent expression in his countenance, and has a very good figure. - Albert, who is just as tall as Ernest but stouter, is extremely handsome; - his hair is about the same colour as mine; his eyes are large and blue, - and he has a beautiful nose and a very sweet mouth with fine teeth; but - the charm of his countenance is his expression, which is most delightful; - c'est a la fois full of goodness and sweetness, and very clever and - intelligent." "Both my cousins," she added, "are so kind and good; they - are much more formes and men of the world than Augustus; they speak - English very well, and I speak it with them. Ernest will be 18 years old - on the 21st of June, and Albert 17 on the 26th of August. Dear Uncle - Ernest made me the present of a most delightful Lory, which is so tame - that it remains on your hand and you may put your finger into its beak, or - do anything with it, without its ever attempting to bite. It is larger - than Mamma's grey parrot." A little later, "I sat between my dear cousins - on the sofa and we looked at drawings. They both draw very well, - particularly Albert, and are both exceedingly fond of music; they play - very nicely on the piano. The more I see them the more I am delighted with - them, and the more I love them... It is delightful to be with them; they - are so fond of being occupied too; they are quite an example for any young - person." When, after a stay of three weeks, the time came for the young - men and their father to return to Germany, the moment of parting was a - melancholy one. "It was our last HAPPY HAPPY breakfast, with this dear - Uncle and those DEAREST beloved cousins, whom I DO love so VERY VERY - dearly; MUCH MORE DEARLY than any other cousins in the WORLD. Dearly as I - love Ferdinand, and also good Augustus, I love Ernest and Albert MORE than - them, oh yes, MUCH MORE... They have both learnt a good deal, and are very - clever, naturally clever, particularly Albert, who is the most reflecting - of the two, and they like very much talking about serious and instructive - things and yet are so VERY VERY merry and gay and happy, like young people - ought to be; Albert always used to have some fun and some clever witty - answer at breakfast and everywhere; he used to play and fondle Dash so - funnily too... Dearest Albert was playing on the piano when I came down. - At 11 dear Uncle, my DEAREST BELOVED cousins, and Charles, left us, - accompanied by Count Kolowrat. I embraced both my dearest cousins most - warmly, as also my dear Uncle. I cried bitterly, very bitterly." The - Princes shared her ecstasies and her italics between them; but it is clear - enough where her secret preference lay. "Particularly Albert!" She was - just seventeen; and deep was the impression left upon that budding - organism by the young man's charm and goodness and accomplishments, and - his large blue eyes and beautiful nose, and his sweet mouth and fine - teeth. - </p> - <p> - IV - </p> - <p> - King William could not away with his sister-in-law, and the Duchess fully - returned his antipathy. Without considerable tact and considerable - forbearance their relative positions were well calculated to cause - ill-feeling; and there was very little tact in the composition of the - Duchess, and no forbearance at all in that of his Majesty. A bursting, - bubbling old gentleman, with quarterdeck gestures, round rolling eyes, and - a head like a pineapple, his sudden elevation to the throne after - fifty-six years of utter insignificance had almost sent him crazy. His - natural exuberance completely got the best of him; he rushed about doing - preposterous things in an extraordinary manner, spreading amusement and - terror in every direction, and talking all the time. His tongue was - decidedly Hanoverian, with its repetitions, its catchwords—"That's - quite another thing! That's quite another thing!"—its rattling - indomitability, its loud indiscreetness. His speeches, made repeatedly at - the most inopportune junctures, and filled pell-mell with all the fancies - and furies that happened at the moment to be whisking about in his head, - were the consternation of Ministers. He was one part blackguard, people - said, and three parts buffoon; but those who knew him better could not - help liking him—he meant well; and he was really good-humoured and - kind-hearted, if you took him the right way. If you took him the wrong - way, however, you must look out for squalls, as the Duchess of Kent - discovered. - </p> - <p> - She had no notion of how to deal with him—could not understand him - in the least. Occupied with her own position, her own responsibilities, - her duty, and her daughter, she had no attention to spare for the peppery - susceptibilities of a foolish, disreputable old man. She was the mother of - the heiress of England; and it was for him to recognise the fact—to - put her at once upon a proper footing—to give her the precedence of - a dowager Princess of Wales, with a large annuity from the privy purse. It - did not occur to her that such pretensions might be galling to a king who - had no legitimate child of his own, and who yet had not altogether - abandoned the hope of having one. She pressed on, with bulky vigour, along - the course she had laid out. Sir John Conroy, an Irishman with no judgment - and a great deal of self-importance, was her intimate counsellor, and - egged her on. It was advisable that Victoria should become acquainted with - the various districts of England, and through several summers a succession - of tours—in the West, in the Midlands, in Wales—were arranged - for her. The intention of the plan was excellent, but its execution was - unfortunate. The journeys, advertised in the Press, attracting - enthusiastic crowds, and involving official receptions, took on the air of - royal progresses. Addresses were presented by loyal citizens, the - delighted Duchess, swelling in sweeping feathers and almost obliterating - the diminutive Princess, read aloud, in her German accent, gracious - replies prepared beforehand by Sir John, who, bustling and ridiculous, - seemed to be mingling the roles of major-domo and Prime Minister. - Naturally the King fumed over his newspaper at Windsor. "That woman is a - nuisance!" he exclaimed. Poor Queen Adelaide, amiable though disappointed, - did her best to smooth things down, changed the subject, and wrote - affectionate letters to Victoria; but it was useless. News arrived that - the Duchess of Kent, sailing in the Solent, had insisted that whenever her - yacht appeared it should be received by royal salutes from all the - men-of-war and all the forts. The King declared that these continual - poppings must cease; the Premier and the First Lord of the Admiralty were - consulted; and they wrote privately to the Duchess, begging her to waive - her rights. But she would not hear of it; Sir John Conroy was adamant. "As - her Royal Highness's CONFIDENTIAL ADVISER," he said, "I cannot recommend - her to give way on this point." Eventually the King, in a great state of - excitement, issued a special Order in Council, prohibiting the firing of - royal salutes to any ships except those which carried the reigning - sovereign or his consort on board. - </p> - <p> - When King William quarrelled with his Whig Ministers the situation grew - still more embittered, for now the Duchess, in addition to her other - shortcomings, was the political partisan of his enemies. In 1836 he made - an attempt to prepare the ground for a match between the Princess Victoria - and one of the sons of the Prince of Orange, and at the same time did his - best to prevent the visit of the young Coburg princes to Kensington. He - failed in both these objects; and the only result of his efforts was to - raise the anger of the King of the Belgians, who, forgetting for a moment - his royal reserve, addressed an indignant letter on the subject to his - niece. "I am really ASTONISHED," he wrote, "at the conduct of your old - Uncle the King; this invitation of the Prince of Orange and his sons, this - forcing him on others, is very extraordinary... Not later than yesterday I - got a half-official communication from England, insinuating that it would - be HIGHLY desirable that the visit of YOUR relatives SHOULD NOT TAKE PLACE - THIS YEAR—qu'en dites-vous? The relations of the Queen and the King, - therefore, to the God-knows-what degree, are to come in shoals and rule - the land, when YOUR RELATIONS are to be FORBIDDEN the country, and that - when, as you know, the whole of your relations have ever been very dutiful - and kind to the King. Really and truly I never heard or saw anything like - it, and I hope it will a LITTLE ROUSE YOUR SPIRIT; now that slavery is - even abolished in the British Colonies, I do not comprehend WHY YOUR LOT - ALONE SHOULD BE TO BE KEPT A WHITE LITTLE SLAVEY IN ENGLAND, for the - pleasure of the Court, who never bought you, as I am not aware of their - ever having gone to any expense on that head, or the King's ever having - SPENT A SIXPENCE FOR YOUR EXISTENCE... Oh, consistency and political or - OTHER HONESTY, where must one look for you!" - </p> - <p> - Shortly afterwards King Leopold came to England himself, and his reception - was as cold at Windsor as it was warm at Kensington. "To hear dear Uncle - speak on any subject," the Princess wrote in her diary, "is like reading a - highly instructive book; his conversation is so enlightened, so clear. He - is universally admitted to be one of the first politicians now extant. He - speaks so mildly, yet firmly and impartially, about politics. Uncle tells - me that Belgium is quite a pattern for its organisation, its industry, and - prosperity; the finances are in the greatest perfection. Uncle is so - beloved and revered by his Belgian subjects, that it must be a great - compensation for all his extreme trouble." But her other uncle by no means - shared her sentiments. He could not, he said, put up with a water-drinker; - and King Leopold would touch no wine. "What's that you're drinking, sir?" - he asked him one day at dinner. "Water, sir." "God damn it, sir!" was the - rejoinder. "Why don't you drink wine? I never allow anybody to drink water - at my table." - </p> - <p> - It was clear that before very long there would be a great explosion; and - in the hot days of August it came. The Duchess and the Princess had gone - down to stay at Windsor for the King's birthday party, and the King - himself, who was in London for the day to prorogue Parliament, paid a - visit at Kensington Palace in their absence. There he found that the - Duchess had just appropriated, against his express orders, a suite of - seventeen apartments for her own use. He was extremely angry, and, when he - returned to Windsor, after greeting the Princess with affection, he - publicly rebuked the Duchess for what she had done. But this was little to - what followed. On the next day was the birthday banquet; there were a - hundred guests; the Duchess of Kent sat on the King's right hand, and the - Princess Victoria opposite. At the end of the dinner, in reply to the - toast of the King's health, he rose, and, in a long, loud, passionate - speech, poured out the vials of his wrath upon the Duchess. She had, he - declared, insulted him—grossly and continually; she had kept the - Princess away from him in the most improper manner; she was surrounded by - evil advisers, and was incompetent to act with propriety in the high - station which she filled; but he would bear it no longer; he would have - her to know he was King; he was determined that his authority should be - respected; henceforward the Princess should attend at every Court function - with the utmost regularity; and he hoped to God that his life might be - spared for six months longer, so that the calamity of a regency might be - avoided, and the functions of the Crown pass directly to the - heiress-presumptive instead of into the hands of the "person now near - him," upon whose conduct and capacity no reliance whatever could be - placed. The flood of vituperation rushed on for what seemed an - interminable period, while the Queen blushed scarlet, the Princess burst - into tears, and the hundred guests sat aghast. The Duchess said not a word - until the tirade was over and the company had retired; then in a tornado - of rage and mortification, she called for her carriage and announced her - immediate return to Kensington. It was only with the utmost difficulty - that some show of a reconciliation was patched up, and the outraged lady - was prevailed upon to put off her departure till the morrow. - </p> - <p> - Her troubles, however, were not over when she had shaken the dust of - Windsor from her feet. In her own household she was pursued by bitterness - and vexation of spirit. The apartments at Kensington were seething with - subdued disaffection, with jealousies and animosities virulently - intensified by long years of propinquity and spite. - </p> - <p> - There was a deadly feud between Sir John Conroy and Baroness Lehzen. But - that was not all. The Duchess had grown too fond of her Major-Domo. There - were familiarities, and one day the Princess Victoria discovered the fact. - She confided what she had seen to the Baroness, and to the Baroness's - beloved ally, Madame de Spath. Unfortunately, Madame de Spath could not - hold her tongue, and was actually foolish enough to reprove the Duchess; - whereupon she was instantly dismissed. It was not so easy to get rid of - the Baroness. That lady, prudent and reserved, maintained an - irreproachable demeanour. Her position was strongly entrenched; she had - managed to secure the support of the King; and Sir John found that he - could do nothing against her. But henceforward the household was divided - into two camps.(*) The Duchess supported Sir John with all the abundance - of her authority; but the Baroness, too, had an adherent who could not be - neglected. The Princess Victoria said nothing, but she had been much - attached to Madame de Spath, and she adored her Lehzen. The Duchess knew - only too well that in this horrid embroilment her daughter was against - her. Chagrin, annoyance, moral reprobation, tossed her to and fro. She did - her best to console herself with Sir John's affectionate loquacity, or - with the sharp remarks of Lady Flora Hastings, one of her maids of honour, - who had no love for the Baroness. The subject lent itself to satire; for - the pastor's daughter, with all her airs of stiff superiority, had habits - which betrayed her origin. Her passion for caraway seeds, for instance, - was uncontrollable. Little bags of them came over to her from Hanover, and - she sprinkled them on her bread and butter, her cabbage, and even her - roast beef. Lady Flora could not resist a caustic observation; it was - repeated to the Baroness, who pursed her lips in fury, and so the mischief - grew. - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - (*) Greville, IV, 21; and August 15, 1839 (unpublished). - "The cause of the Queen's alienation from the Duchess and - hatred of Conroy, the Duke (of Wellington) said, was - unquestionably owing to her having witnessed some - familiarities between them. What she had seen she repeated - to Baroness Spaeth, and Spaeth not only did not hold her - tongue, but (he thinks) remonstrated with the Duchess - herself on the subject. The consequence was that they got - rid of Spaeth, and they would have got rid of Lehzen, too, - if they had been able, but Lehzen, who knew very well what - was going on, was prudent enough not to commit herself, and - who was, besides, powerfully protected by George IV and - William IV, so that they did not dare to attempt to expel - her." -</pre> - <p> - V - </p> - <p> - The King had prayed that he might live till his niece was of age; and a - few days before her eighteenth birthday—the date of her legal - majority—a sudden attack of illness very nearly carried him off. He - recovered, however, and the Princess was able to go through her birthday - festivities—a state ball and a drawing-room—with unperturbed - enjoyment. "Count Zichy," she noted in her diary, "is very good-looking in - uniform, but not in plain clothes. Count Waldstein looks remarkably well - in his pretty Hungarian uniform." With the latter young gentleman she - wished to dance, but there was an insurmountable difficulty. "He could not - dance quadrilles, and, as in my station I unfortunately cannot valse and - gallop, I could not dance with him." Her birthday present from the King - was of a pleasing nature, but it led to a painful domestic scene. In spite - of the anger of her Belgian uncle, she had remained upon good terms with - her English one. He had always been very kind to her, and the fact that he - had quarrelled with her mother did not appear to be a reason for disliking - him. He was, she said, "odd, very odd and singular," but "his intentions - were often ill interpreted." He now wrote her a letter, offering her an - allowance of L10,000 a year, which he proposed should be at her own - disposal, and independent of her mother. Lord Conyngham, the Lord - Chamberlain, was instructed to deliver the letter into the Princess's own - hands. When he arrived at Kensington, he was ushered into the presence of - the Duchess and the Princess, and, when he produced the letter, the - Duchess put out her hand to take it. Lord Conyngham begged her Royal - Highness's pardon, and repeated the King's commands. Thereupon the Duchess - drew back, and the Princess took the letter. She immediately wrote to her - uncle, accepting his kind proposal. The Duchess was much displeased; L4000 - a year, she said, would be quite enough for Victoria; as for the remaining - L6000, it would be only proper that she should have that herself. - </p> - <p> - King William had thrown off his illness, and returned to his normal life. - Once more the royal circle at Windsor—their Majesties, the elder - Princesses, and some unfortunate Ambassadress or Minister's wife—might - be seen ranged for hours round a mahogany table, while the Queen netted a - purse, and the King slept, occasionally waking from his slumbers to - observe "Exactly so, ma'am, exactly so!" But this recovery was of short - duration. The old man suddenly collapsed; with no specific symptoms - besides an extreme weakness, he yet showed no power of rallying; and it - was clear to everyone that his death was now close at hand. - </p> - <p> - All eyes, all thoughts, turned towards the Princess Victoria; but she - still remained, shut away in the seclusion of Kensington, a small, unknown - figure, lost in the large shadow of her mother's domination. The preceding - year had in fact been an important one in her development. The soft - tendrils of her mind had for the first time begun to stretch out towards - unchildish things. In this King Leopold encouraged her. After his return - to Brussels, he had resumed his correspondance in a more serious strain; - he discussed the details of foreign politics; he laid down the duties of - kingship; he pointed out the iniquitous foolishness of the newspaper - press. On the latter subject, indeed, he wrote with some asperity. "If all - the editors," he said, "of the papers in the countries where the liberty - of the press exists were to be assembled, we should have a crew to which - you would NOT confide a dog that you would value, still less your honour - and reputation." On the functions of a monarch, his views were - unexceptionable. "The business of the highest in a State," he wrote, "is - certainly, in my opinion, to act with great impartiality and a spirit of - justice for the good of all." At the same time the Princess's tastes were - opening out. Though she was still passionately devoted to riding and - dancing, she now began to have a genuine love of music as well, and to - drink in the roulades and arias of the Italian opera with high enthusiasm. - She even enjoyed reading poetry—at any rate, the poetry of Sir - Walter Scott. - </p> - <p> - When King Leopold learnt that King William's death was approaching, he - wrote several long letters of excellent advice to his niece. "In every - letter I shall write to you," he said, "I mean to repeat to you, as a - FUNDAMENTAL RULE, TO BE FIRM, AND COURAGEOUS, AND HONEST, AS YOU HAVE BEEN - TILL NOW." For the rest, in the crisis that was approaching, she was not - to be alarmed, but to trust in her "good natural sense and the TRUTH" of - her character; she was to do nothing in a hurry; to hurt no one's - amour-propre, and to continue her confidence in the Whig administration! - Not content with letters, however, King Leopold determined that the - Princess should not lack personal guidance, and sent over to her aid the - trusted friend whom, twenty years before, he had taken to his heart by the - death-bed at Claremont. Thus, once again, as if in accordance with some - preordained destiny, the figure of Stockmar is discernible—inevitably - present at a momentous hour. - </p> - <p> - On June 18, the King was visibly sinking. The Archbishop of Canterbury was - by his side, with all the comforts of the church. Nor did the holy words - fall upon a rebellious spirit; for many years his Majesty had been a - devout believer. "When I was a young man," he once explained at a public - banquet, "as well as I can remember, I believed in nothing but pleasure - and folly—nothing at all. But when I went to sea, got into a gale, - and saw the wonders of the mighty deep, then I believed; and I have been a - sincere Christian ever since." It was the anniversary of the Battle of - Waterloo, and the dying man remembered it. He should be glad to live, he - said, over that day; he would never see another sunset. "I hope your - Majesty may live to see many," said Dr. Chambers. "Oh! that's quite - another thing, that's quite another thing," was the answer. One other - sunset he did live to see; and he died in the early hours of the following - morning. It was on June 20, 1837. - </p> - <p> - When all was over, the Archbishop and the Lord Chamberlain ordered a - carriage, and drove post-haste from Windsor to Kensington. They arrived at - the Palace at five o'clock, and it was only with considerable difficulty - that they gained admittance. At six the Duchess woke up her daughter, and - told her that the Archbishop of Canterbury and Lord Conyngham were there, - and wished to see her. She got out of bed, put on her dressing-gown, and - went, alone, into the room where the messengers were standing. Lord - Conyngham fell on his knees, and officially announced the death of the - King; the Archbishop added some personal details. Looking at the bending, - murmuring dignitaries before her, she knew that she was Queen of England. - "Since it has pleased Providence," she wrote that day in her journal, "to - place me in this station, I shall do my utmost to fulfil my duty towards - my country; I am very young, and perhaps in many, though not in all - things, inexperienced, but I am sure, that very few have more real good - will and more real desire to do what is fit and right than I have." But - there was scant time for resolutions and reflections. At once, affairs - were thick upon her. Stockmar came to breakfast, and gave some good - advice. She wrote a letter to her uncle Leopold, and a hurried note to her - sister Feodora. A letter came from the Prime Minister, Lord Melbourne, - announcing his approaching arrival. He came at nine, in full court dress, - and kissed her hand. She saw him alone, and repeated to him the lesson - which, no doubt, the faithful Stockmar had taught her at breakfast. "It - has long been my intention to retain your Lordship and the rest of the - present Ministry at the head of affairs;" whereupon Lord Melbourne again - kissed her hand and shortly after left her. She then wrote a letter of - condolence to Queen Adelaide. At eleven, Lord Melbourne came again; and at - half-past eleven she went downstairs into the red saloon to hold her first - Council. The great assembly of lords and notables, bishops, generals, and - Ministers of State, saw the doors thrown open and a very short, very slim - girl in deep plain mourning come into the room alone and move forward to - her seat with extraordinary dignity and grace; they saw a countenance, not - beautiful, but prepossessing—fair hair, blue prominent eyes, a small - curved nose, an open mouth revealing the upper teeth, a tiny chin, a clear - complexion, and, over all, the strangely mingled signs of innocence, of - gravity, of youth, and of composure; they heard a high unwavering voice - reading aloud with perfect clarity; and then, the ceremony was over, they - saw the small figure rise and, with the same consummate grace, the same - amazing dignity, pass out from among them, as she had come in, alone. - </p> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER III. LORD MELBOURNE - </h2> - <h3> - I - </h3> - <p> - The new queen was almost entirely unknown to her subjects. In her public - appearances her mother had invariably dominated the scene. Her private - life had been that of a novice in a convent: hardly a human being from the - outside world had ever spoken to her; and no human being at all, except - her mother and the Baroness Lehzen, had ever been alone with her in a - room. Thus it was not only the public at large that was in ignorance of - everything concerning her; the inner circles of statesmen and officials - and high-born ladies were equally in the dark. When she suddenly emerged - from this deep obscurity, the impression that she created was immediate - and profound. Her bearing at her first Council filled the whole gathering - with astonishment and admiration; the Duke of Wellington, Sir Robert Peel, - even the savage Croker, even the cold and caustic Greville—all were - completely carried away. Everything that was reported of her subsequent - proceedings seemed to be of no less happy augury. Her perceptions were - quick, her decisions were sensible, her language was discreet; she - performed her royal duties with extraordinary facility. Among the outside - public there was a great wave of enthusiasm. Sentiment and romance were - coming into fashion; and the spectacle of the little girl-queen, innocent, - modest, with fair hair and pink cheeks, driving through her capital, - filled the hearts of the beholders with raptures of affectionate loyalty. - What, above all, struck everybody with overwhelming force was the contrast - between Queen Victoria and her uncles. The nasty old men, debauched and - selfish, pig-headed and ridiculous, with their perpetual burden of debts, - confusions, and disreputabilities—they had vanished like the snows - of winter, and here at last, crowned and radiant, was the spring. Lord - John Russell, in an elaborate oration, gave voice to the general - sentiment. He hoped that Victoria might prove an Elizabeth without her - tyranny, an Anne without her weakness. He asked England to pray that the - illustrious Princess who had just ascended the throne with the purest - intentions and the justest desires might see slavery abolished, crime - diminished, and education improved. He trusted that her people would - henceforward derive their strength, their conduct, and their loyalty from - enlightened religious and moral principles, and that, so fortified, the - reign of Victoria might prove celebrated to posterity and to all the - nations of the earth. - </p> - <p> - Very soon, however, there were signs that the future might turn out to be - not quite so simple and roseate as a delighted public dreamed. The - "illustrious Princess" might perhaps, after all, have something within her - which squared ill with the easy vision of a well-conducted heroine in an - edifying story-book. The purest intentions and the justest desires? No - doubt; but was that all? To those who watched closely, for instance, there - might be something ominous in the curious contour of that little mouth. - When, after her first Council, she crossed the ante-room and found her - mother waiting for her, she said, "And now, Mamma, am I really and truly - Queen?" "You see, my dear, that it is so." "Then, dear Mamma, I hope you - will grant me the first request I make to you, as Queen. Let me be by - myself for an hour." For an hour she remained in solitude. Then she - reappeared, and gave a significant order: her bed was to be moved out of - her mother's room. It was the doom of the Duchess of Kent. The long years - of waiting were over at last; the moment of a lifetime had come; her - daughter was Queen of England; and that very moment brought her own - annihilation. She found herself, absolutely and irretrievably, shut off - from every vestige of influence, of confidence, of power. She was - surrounded, indeed, by all the outward signs of respect and consideration; - but that only made the inward truth of her position the more intolerable. - Through the mingled formalities of Court etiquette and filial duty, she - could never penetrate to Victoria. She was unable to conceal her - disappointment and her rage. "Il n'y a plus d'avenir pour moi," she - exclaimed to Madame de Lieven; "je ne suis plus rien." For eighteen years, - she said, this child had been the sole object of her existence, of her - thoughts, her hopes, and now—no! she would not be comforted, she had - lost everything, she was to the last degree unhappy. Sailing, so gallantly - and so pertinaciously, through the buffeting storms of life, the stately - vessel, with sails still swelling and pennons flying, had put into harbour - at last; to find there nothing—a land of bleak desolation. - </p> - <p> - Within a month of the accession, the realities of the new situation - assumed a visible shape. The whole royal household moved from Kensington - to Buckingham Palace, and, in the new abode, the Duchess of Kent was given - a suite of apartments entirely separate from the Queen's. By Victoria - herself the change was welcomed, though, at the moment of departure, she - could afford to be sentimental. "Though I rejoice to go into B. P. for - many reasons," she wrote in her diary, "it is not without feelings of - regret that I shall bid adieu for ever to this my birthplace, where I have - been born and bred, and to which I am really attached!" Her memory - lingered for a moment over visions of the past: her sister's wedding, - pleasant balls and delicious concerts and there were other recollections. - "I have gone through painful and disagreeable scenes here, 'tis true," she - concluded, "but still I am fond of the poor old palace." - </p> - <p> - At the same time she took another decided step. She had determined that - she would see no more of Sir John Conroy. She rewarded his past services - with liberality: he was given a baronetcy and a pension of L3000 a year; - he remained a member of the Duchess's household, but his personal - intercourse with the Queen came to an abrupt conclusion. - </p> - <p> - II - </p> - <p> - It was clear that these interior changes—whatever else they might - betoken—marked the triumph of one person—the Baroness Lehzen. - The pastor's daughter observed the ruin of her enemies. Discreet and - victorious, she remained in possession of the field. More closely than - ever did she cleave to the side of her mistress, her pupil, and her - friend; and in the recesses of the palace her mysterious figure was at - once invisible and omnipresent. When the Queen's Ministers came in at one - door, the Baroness went out by another; when they retired, she immediately - returned. Nobody knew—nobody ever will know—the precise extent - and the precise nature of her influence. She herself declared that she - never discussed public affairs with the Queen, that she was concerned with - private matters only—with private letters and the details of private - life. Certainly her hand is everywhere discernible in Victoria's early - correspondence. The Journal is written in the style of a child; the - Letters are not so simple; they are the work of a child, rearranged—with - the minimum of alteration, no doubt, and yet perceptibly—by a - governess. And the governess was no fool: narrow, jealous, provincial, she - might be; but she was an acute and vigorous woman, who had gained by a - peculiar insight, a peculiar ascendancy. That ascendancy she meant to - keep. No doubt it was true that technically she took no part in public - business; but the distinction between what is public and what is private - is always a subtle one; and in the case of a reigning sovereign—as - the next few years were to show—it is often imaginary. Considering - all things—the characters of the persons, and the character of the - times—it was something more than a mere matter of private interest - that the bedroom of Baroness Lehzen at Buckingham Palace should have been - next door to the bedroom of the Queen. - </p> - <p> - But the influence wielded by the Baroness, supreme as it seemed within its - own sphere, was not unlimited; there were other forces at work. For one - thing, the faithful Stockmar had taken up his residence in the palace. - During the twenty years which had elapsed since the death of the Princess - Charlotte, his experiences had been varied and remarkable. The unknown - counsellor of a disappointed princeling had gradually risen to a position - of European importance. His devotion to his master had been not only whole—hearted - but cautious and wise. It was Stockmar's advice that had kept Prince - Leopold in England during the critical years which followed his wife's - death, and had thus secured to him the essential requisite of a point - d'appui in the country of his adoption. It was Stockmar's discretion which - had smoothed over the embarrassments surrounding the Prince's acceptance - and rejection of the Greek crown. It was Stockmar who had induced the - Prince to become the constitutional Sovereign of Belgium. Above all, it - was Stockmar's tact, honesty, and diplomatic skill which, through a long - series of arduous and complicated negotiations, had led to the guarantee - of Belgian neutrality by the Great Powers. His labours had been rewarded - by a German barony and by the complete confidence of King Leopold. Nor was - it only in Brussels that he was treated with respect and listened to with - attention. The statesmen who governed England—Lord Grey, Sir Robert - Peel, Lord Palmerston, Lord Melbourne—had learnt to put a high value - upon his probity and his intelligence. "He is one of the cleverest fellows - I ever saw," said Lord Melbourne, "the most discreet man, the most - well-judging, and most cool man." And Lord Palmerston cited Baron Stockmar - as the only absolutely disinterested man he had come across in life, At - last he was able to retire to Coburg, and to enjoy for a few years the - society of the wife and children whom his labours in the service of his - master had hitherto only allowed him to visit at long intervals for a - month or two at a time. But in 1836 he had been again entrusted with an - important negotiation, which he had brought to a successful conclusion in - the marriage of Prince Ferdinand of Saxe-Coburg, a nephew of King - Leopold's, with Queen Maria II of Portugal. The House of Coburg was - beginning to spread over Europe; and the establishment of the Baron at - Buckingham Palace in 1837 was to be the prelude of another and a more - momentous advance. - </p> - <p> - King Leopold and his counsellor provide in their careers an example of the - curious diversity of human ambitions. The desires of man are wonderfully - various; but no less various are the means by which those desires may - reach satisfaction: and so the work of the world gets done. The correct - mind of Leopold craved for the whole apparatus of royalty. Mere power - would have held no attractions for him; he must be an actual king—the - crowned head of a people. It was not enough to do; it was essential also - to be recognised; anything else would not be fitting. The greatness that - he dreamt of was surrounded by every appropriate circumstance. To be a - Majesty, to be a cousin of Sovereigns, to marry a Bourbon for diplomatic - ends, to correspond with the Queen of England, to be very stiff and very - punctual, to found a dynasty, to bore ambassadresses into fits, to live, - on the highest pinnacle, an exemplary life devoted to the public service—such - were his objects, and such, in fact, were his achievements. The "Marquis - Peu-a-peu," as George IV called him, had what he wanted. But this would - never have been the case if it had not happened that the ambition of - Stockmar took a form exactly complementary to his own. The sovereignty - that the Baron sought for was by no means obvious. The satisfaction of his - essential being lay in obscurity, in invisibility—in passing, - unobserved, through a hidden entrance, into the very central chamber of - power, and in sitting there, quietly, pulling the subtle strings that set - the wheels of the whole world in motion. A very few people, in very high - places, and exceptionally well-informed, knew that Baron Stockmar was a - most important person: that was enough. The fortunes of the master and the - servant, intimately interacting, rose together. The Baron's secret skill - had given Leopold his unexceptionable kingdom; and Leopold, in his turn, - as time went on, was able to furnish the Baron with more and more keys to - more and more back doors. - </p> - <p> - Stockmar took up his abode in the Palace partly as the emissary of King - Leopold, but more particularly as the friend and adviser of a queen who - was almost a child, and who, no doubt, would be much in need of advice and - friendship. For it would be a mistake to suppose that either of these two - men was actuated by a vulgar selfishness. The King, indeed, was very well - aware on which side his bread was buttered; during an adventurous and - chequered life he had acquired a shrewd knowledge of the world's workings; - and he was ready enough to use that knowledge to strengthen his position - and to spread his influence. But then, the firmer his position and the - wider his influence, the better for Europe; of that he was quite certain. - And besides, he was a constitutional monarch; and it would be highly - indecorous in a constitutional monarch to have any aims that were low or - personal. - </p> - <p> - As for Stockmar, the disinterestedness which Palmerston had noted was - undoubtedly a basic element in his character. The ordinary schemer is - always an optimist; and Stockmar, racked by dyspepsia and haunted by - gloomy forebodings, was a constitutionally melancholy man. A schemer, no - doubt, he was; but he schemed distrustfully, splenetically, to do good. To - do good! What nobler end could a man scheme for? Yet it is perilous to - scheme at all. - </p> - <p> - With Lehzen to supervise every detail of her conduct, with Stockmar in the - next room, so full of wisdom and experience of affairs, with her Uncle - Leopold's letters, too, pouring out so constantly their stream of - encouragements, general reflections, and highly valuable tips, Victoria, - even had she been without other guidance, would have stood in no lack of - private counsellor. But other guidance she had; for all these influences - paled before a new star, of the first magnitude, which, rising suddenly - upon her horizon, immediately dominated her life. - </p> - <p> - III - </p> - <p> - William Lamb, Viscount Melbourne, was fifty-eight years of age, and had - been for the last three years Prime Minister of England. In every outward - respect he was one of the most fortunate of mankind. He had been born into - the midst of riches, brilliance, and power. His mother, fascinating and - intelligent, had been a great Whig hostess, and he had been bred up as a - member of that radiant society which, during the last quarter of the - eighteenth century, concentrated within itself the ultimate perfections of - a hundred years of triumphant aristocracy. Nature had given him beauty and - brains; the unexpected death of an elder brother brought him wealth, a - peerage, and the possibility of high advancement. Within that charmed - circle, whatever one's personal disabilities, it was difficult to fail; - and to him, with all his advantages, success was well-nigh unavoidable. - With little effort, he attained political eminence. On the triumph of the - Whigs he became one of the leading members of the Government; and when - Lord Grey retired from the premiership he quietly stepped into the vacant - place. Nor was it only in the visible signs of fortune that Fate had been - kind to him. Bound to succeed, and to succeed easily, he was gifted with - so fine a nature that his success became him. His mind, at once supple and - copious, his temperament, at once calm and sensitive, enabled him not - merely to work, but to live with perfect facility and with the grace of - strength. In society he was a notable talker, a captivating companion, a - charming man. If one looked deeper, one saw at once that he was not - ordinary, that the piquancies of his conversation and his manner—his - free-and-easy vaguenesses, his abrupt questions, his lollings and - loungings, his innumerable oaths—were something more than an amusing - ornament, were the outward manifestation of an individuality that was - fundamental. - </p> - <p> - The precise nature of this individuality was very difficult to gauge: it - was dubious, complex, perhaps self—contradictory. Certainly there - was an ironical discordance between the inner history of the man and his - apparent fortunes. He owed all he had to his birth, and his birth was - shameful; it was known well enough that his mother had passionately loved - Lord Egremont, and that Lord Melbourne was not his father. His marriage, - which had seemed to be the crown of his youthful ardours, was a long, - miserable, desperate failure: the incredible Lady Caroline, "With - pleasures too refined to please, With too much spirit to be e'er at ease, - With too much quickness to be ever taught, With too much thinking to have - common thought," was very nearly the destruction of his life. When at last - he emerged from the anguish and confusion of her folly, her extravagance, - her rage, her despair, and her devotion, he was left alone with endless - memories of intermingled farce and tragedy, and an only son, who was an - imbecile. But there was something else that he owed to Lady Caroline. - While she whirled with Byron in a hectic frenzy of love and fashion, he - had stayed at home in an indulgence bordering on cynicism, and occupied - his solitude with reading. It was thus that he had acquired those habits - of study, that love of learning, and that wide and accurate knowledge of - ancient and modern literature, which formed so unexpected a part of his - mental equipment. His passion for reading never deserted him; even when he - was Prime Minister he found time to master every new important book. With - an incongruousness that was characteristic, his favourite study was - theology. An accomplished classical scholar, he was deeply read in the - Fathers of the Church; heavy volumes of commentary and exegesis he - examined with scrupulous diligence; and at any odd moment he might be - found turning over the pages of the Bible. To the ladies whom he most - liked, he would lend some learned work on the Revelation, crammed with - marginal notes in his own hand, or Dr. Lardner's "Observations upon the - Jewish Errors with respect to the Conversion of Mary Magdalene." The more - pious among them had high hopes that these studies would lead him into the - right way; but of this there were no symptoms in his after-dinner - conversations. - </p> - <p> - The paradox of his political career was no less curious. By temperament an - aristocrat, by conviction a conservative, he came to power as the leader - of the popular party, the party of change. He had profoundly disliked the - Reform Bill, which he had only accepted at last as a necessary evil; and - the Reform Bill lay at the root of the very existence, of the very - meaning, of his government. He was far too sceptical to believe in - progress of any kind. Things were best as they were or rather, they were - least bad. "You'd better try to do no good," was one of his dictums, "and - then you'll get into no scrapes." Education at best was futile; education - of the poor was positively dangerous. The factory children? "Oh, if you'd - only have the goodness to leave them alone!" Free Trade was a delusion; - the ballot was nonsense; and there was no such thing as a democracy. - </p> - <p> - Nevertheless, he was not a reactionary; he was simply an opportunist. The - whole duty of government, he said, was "to prevent crime and to preserve - contracts." All one could really hope to do was to carry on. He himself - carried on in a remarkable manner—with perpetual compromises, with - fluctuations and contradictions, with every kind of weakness, and yet with - shrewdness, with gentleness, even with conscientiousness, and a light and - airy mastery of men and of events. He conducted the transactions of - business with extraordinary nonchalance. Important persons, ushered up for - some grave interview, found him in a towselled bed, littered with books - and papers, or vaguely shaving in a dressing-room; but, when they went - downstairs again, they would realise that somehow or other they had been - pumped. When he had to receive a deputation, he could hardly ever do so - with becoming gravity. The worthy delegates of the tallow-chandlers, or - the Society for the Abolition of Capital Punishment, were distressed and - mortified when, in the midst of their speeches, the Prime Minister became - absorbed in blowing a feather, or suddenly cracked an unseemly joke. How - could they have guessed that he had spent the night before diligently - getting up the details of their case? He hated patronage and the making of - appointments—a feeling rare in Ministers. "As for the Bishops," he - burst out, "I positively believe they die to vex me." But when at last the - appointment was made, it was made with keen discrimination. His colleagues - observed another symptom—was it of his irresponsibility or his - wisdom? He went to sleep in the Cabinet. - </p> - <p> - Probably, if he had been born a little earlier, he would have been a - simpler and a happier man. As it was, he was a child of the eighteenth - century whose lot was cast in a new, difficult, unsympathetic age. He was - an autumn rose. With all his gracious amenity, his humour, his - happy-go-lucky ways, a deep disquietude possessed him. A sentimental - cynic, a sceptical believer, he was restless and melancholy at heart. - Above all, he could never harden himself; those sensitive petals shivered - in every wind. Whatever else he might be, one thing was certain: Lord - Melbourne was always human, supremely human—too human, perhaps. - </p> - <p> - And now, with old age upon him, his life took a sudden, new, extraordinary - turn. He became, in the twinkling of an eye, the intimate adviser and the - daily companion of a young girl who had stepped all at once from a nursery - to a throne. His relations with women had been, like everything else about - him, ambiguous. Nobody had ever been able quite to gauge the shifting, - emotional complexities of his married life; Lady Caroline vanished; but - his peculiar susceptibilities remained. Female society of some kind or - other was necessary to him, and he did not stint himself; a great part of - every day was invariably spent in it. The feminine element in him made it - easy, made it natural and inevitable for him to be the friend of a great - many women; but the masculine element in him was strong as well. In such - circumstances it is also easy, it is even natural, perhaps it is even - inevitable, to be something more than a friend. There were rumours and - combustions. Lord Melbourne was twice a co-respondent in a divorce action; - but on each occasion he won his suit. The lovely Lady Brandon, the unhappy - and brilliant Mrs. Norton... the law exonerated them both. Beyond that - hung an impenetrable veil. But at any rate it was clear that, with such a - record, the Prime Minister's position in Buckingham Palace must be a - highly delicate one. However, he was used to delicacies, and he met the - situation with consummate success. His behaviour was from the first moment - impeccable. His manner towards the young Queen mingled, with perfect - facility, the watchfulness and the respect of a statesman and a courtier - with the tender solicitude of a parent. He was at once reverential and - affectionate, at once the servant and the guide. At the same time the - habits of his life underwent a surprising change. His comfortable, - unpunctual days became subject to the unaltering routine of a palace; no - longer did he sprawl on sofas; not a single "damn" escaped his lips. The - man of the world who had been the friend of Byron and the regent, the - talker whose paradoxes had held Holland House enthralled, the cynic whose - ribaldries had enlivened so many deep potations, the lover whose soft - words had captivated such beauty and such passion and such wit, might now - be seen, evening after evening, talking with infinite politeness to a - schoolgirl, bolt upright, amid the silence and the rigidity of Court - etiquette. - </p> - <p> - IV - </p> - <p> - On her side, Victoria was instantaneously fascinated by Lord Melbourne. - The good report of Stockmar had no doubt prepared the way; Lehzen was - wisely propitiated; and the first highly favourable impression was never - afterwards belied. She found him perfect; and perfect in her sight he - remained. Her absolute and unconcealed adoration was very natural; what - innocent young creature could have resisted, in any circumstances, the - charm and the devotion of such a man? But, in her situation, there was a - special influence which gave a peculiar glow to all she felt. After years - of emptiness and dullness and suppression, she had come suddenly, in the - heyday of youth, into freedom and power. She was mistress of herself, of - great domains and palaces; she was Queen of England. Responsibilities and - difficulties she might have, no doubt, and in heavy measure; but one - feeling dominated and absorbed all others—the feeling of joy. - Everything pleased her. She was in high spirits from morning till night. - Mr. Creevey, grown old now, and very near his end, catching a glimpse of - her at Brighton, was much amused, in his sharp fashion, by the ingenuous - gaiety of "little Vic." "A more homely little being you never beheld, when - she is at her ease, and she is evidently dying to be always more so. She - laughs in real earnest, opening her mouth as wide as it can go, showing - not very pretty gums... She eats quite as heartily as she laughs, I think - I may say she gobbles... She blushes and laughs every instant in so - natural a way as to disarm anybody." But it was not merely when she was - laughing or gobbling that she enjoyed herself; the performance of her - official duties gave her intense satisfaction. "I really have immensely to - do," she wrote in her Journal a few days after her accession; "I receive - so many communications from my Ministers, but I like it very much." And - again, a week later, "I repeat what I said before that I have so many - communications from the Ministers, and from me to them, and I get so many - papers to sign every day, that I have always a very great deal to do. I - delight in this work." Through the girl's immaturity the vigorous - predestined tastes of the woman were pushing themselves into existence - with eager velocity, with delicious force. - </p> - <p> - One detail of her happy situation deserves particular mention. Apart from - the splendour of her social position and the momentousness of her - political one, she was a person of great wealth. As soon as Parliament - met, an annuity of L385,000 was settled upon her. When the expenses of her - household had been discharged, she was left with L68,000 a year of her - own. She enjoyed besides the revenues of the Duchy of Lancaster, which - amounted annually to over L27,000. The first use to which she put her - money was characteristic: she paid off her father's debts. In money - matters, no less than in other matters, she was determined to be correct. - She had the instincts of a man of business; and she never could have borne - to be in a position that was financially unsound. - </p> - <p> - With youth and happiness gilding every hour, the days passed merrily - enough. And each day hinged upon Lord Melbourne. Her diary shows us, with - undiminished clarity, the life of the young sovereign during the early - months of her reign—a life satisfactorily regular, full of - delightful business, a life of simple pleasures, mostly physical—riding, - eating, dancing—a quick, easy, highly unsophisticated life, - sufficient unto itself. The light of the morning is upon it; and, in the - rosy radiance, the figure of "Lord M." emerges, glorified and supreme. If - she is the heroine of the story, he is the hero; but indeed they are more - than hero and heroine, for there are no other characters at all. Lehzen, - the Baron, Uncle Leopold, are unsubstantial shadows—the incidental - supers of the piece. Her paradise was peopled by two persons, and surely - that was enough. One sees them together still, a curious couple, strangely - united in those artless pages, under the magical illumination of that dawn - of eighty years ago: the polished high fine gentleman with the whitening - hair and whiskers and the thick dark eyebrows and the mobile lips and the - big expressive eyes; and beside him the tiny Queen—fair, slim, - elegant, active, in her plain girl's dress and little tippet, looking up - at him earnestly, adoringly, with eyes blue and projecting, and half-open - mouth. So they appear upon every page of the Journal; upon every page Lord - M. is present, Lord M. is speaking, Lord M. is being amusing, instructive, - delightful, and affectionate at once, while Victoria drinks in the honied - words, laughs till she shows her gums, tries hard to remember, and runs - off, as soon as she is left alone, to put it all down. Their long - conversations touched upon a multitude of topics. Lord M. would criticise - books, throw out a remark or two on the British Constitution, make some - passing reflections on human life, and tell story after story of the great - people of the eighteenth century. Then there would be business a despatch - perhaps from Lord Durham in Canada, which Lord M. would read. But first he - must explain a little. "He said that I must know that Canada originally - belonged to the French, and was only ceded to the English in 1760, when it - was taken in an expedition under Wolfe: 'a very daring enterprise,' he - said. Canada was then entirely French, and the British only came - afterwards... Lord M. explained this very clearly (and much better than I - have done) and said a good deal more about it. He then read me Durham's - despatch, which is a very long one and took him more than 1/2 an hour to - read. Lord M. read it beautifully with that fine soft voice of his, and - with so much expression, so that it is needless to say I was much - interested by it." And then the talk would take a more personal turn. Lord - M. would describe his boyhood, and she would learn that "he wore his hair - long, as all boys then did, till he was 17; (how handsome he must have - looked!)." Or she would find out about his queer tastes and habits—how - he never carried a watch, which seemed quite extraordinary. "'I always ask - the servant what o'clock it is, and then he tells me what he likes,' said - Lord M." Or, as the rooks wheeled about round the trees, "in a manner - which indicated rain," he would say that he could sit looking at them for - an hour, and "was quite surprised at my disliking them. M. said, 'The - rooks are my delight.'" - </p> - <p> - The day's routine, whether in London or at Windsor, was almost invariable. - The morning was devoted to business and Lord M. In the afternoon the whole - Court went out riding. The Queen, in her velvet riding—habit and a - top-hat with a veil draped about the brim, headed the cavalcade; and Lord - M. rode beside her. The lively troupe went fast and far, to the extreme - exhilaration of Her Majesty. Back in the Palace again, there was still - time for a little more fun before dinner—a game of battledore and - shuttlecock perhaps, or a romp along the galleries with some children. - Dinner came, and the ceremonial decidedly tightened. The gentleman of - highest rank sat on the right hand of the Queen; on her left—it soon - became an established rule—sat Lord Melbourne. After the ladies had - left the dining-room, the gentlemen were not permitted to remain behind - for very long; indeed, the short time allowed them for their wine-drinking - formed the subject—so it was rumoured—of one of the very few - disputes between the Queen and her Prime Minister;(*) but her - determination carried the day, and from that moment after-dinner - drunkenness began to go out of fashion. When the company was reassembled - in the drawing-room the etiquette was stiff. For a few moments the Queen - spoke in turn to each one of her guests; and during these short uneasy - colloquies the aridity of royalty was apt to become painfully evident. One - night Mr. Greville, the Clerk of the Privy Council, was present; his turn - soon came; the middle-aged, hard-faced viveur was addressed by his young - hostess. "Have you been riding to-day, Mr. Greville?" asked the Queen. - "No, Madam, I have not," replied Mr. Greville. "It was a fine day," - continued the Queen. "Yes, Madam, a very fine day," said Mr. Greville. "It - was rather cold, though," said the Queen. "It was rather cold, Madam," - said Mr. Greville. "Your sister, Lady Frances Egerton, rides, I think, - doesn't she?" said the Queen. "She does ride sometimes, Madam," said Mr. - Greville. There was a pause, after which Mr. Greville ventured to take the - lead, though he did not venture to change the subject. "Has your Majesty - been riding today?" asked Mr. Greville. "Oh yes, a very long ride," - answered the Queen with animation. "Has your Majesty got a nice horse?" - said Mr. Greville. "Oh, a very nice horse," said the Queen. It was over. - Her Majesty gave a smile and an inclination of the head, Mr. Greville a - profound bow, and the next conversation began with the next gentleman. - When all the guests had been disposed of, the Duchess of Kent sat down to - her whist, while everybody else was ranged about the round table. Lord - Melbourne sat beside the Queen, and talked pertinaciously—very often - a propos to the contents of one of the large albums of engravings with - which the round table was covered—until it was half-past eleven and - time to go to bed. - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - (*) The Duke of Bedford told Greville he was "sure there was - a battle between her and Melbourne... He is sure there was - one about the men's sitting after dinner, for he heard her - say to him rather angrily, 'it is a horrid custom-' but when - the ladies left the room (he dined there) directions were - given that the men should remain five minutes longer." - Greville Memoirs, February 26, 1840 (unpublished). -</pre> - <p> - Occasionally, there were little diversions: the evening might be spent at - the opera or at the play. Next morning the royal critic was careful to - note down her impressions. "It was Shakespeare's tragedy of Hamlet, and we - came in at the beginning of it. Mr. Charles Kean (son of old Kean) acted - the part of Hamlet, and I must say beautifully. His conception of this - very difficult, and I may almost say incomprehensible, character is - admirable; his delivery of all the fine long speeches quite beautiful; he - is excessively graceful and all his actions and attitudes are good, though - not at all good-looking in face... I came away just as Hamlet was over." - Later on, she went to see Macready in King Lear. The story was new to her; - she knew nothing about it, and at first she took very little interest in - what was passing on the stage; she preferred to chatter and laugh with the - Lord Chamberlain. But, as the play went on, her mood changed; her - attention was fixed, and then she laughed no more. Yet she was puzzled; it - seemed a strange, a horrible business. What did Lord M. think? Lord M. - thought it was a very fine play, but to be sure, "a rough, coarse play, - written for those times, with exaggerated characters." "I'm glad you've - seen it," he added. But, undoubtedly, the evenings which she enjoyed most - were those on which there was dancing. She was always ready enough to - seize any excuse—the arrival of cousins—a birthday—a - gathering of young people—to give the command for that. Then, when - the band played, and the figures of the dancers swayed to the music, and - she felt her own figure swaying too, with youthful spirits so close on - every side—then her happiness reached its height, her eyes sparkled, - she must go on and on into the small hours of the morning. For a moment - Lord M. himself was forgotten. - </p> - <p> - V - </p> - <p> - The months flew past. The summer was over: "the pleasantest summer I EVER - passed in MY LIFE, and I shall never forget this first summer of my - reign." With surprising rapidity, another summer was upon her. The - coronation came and went—a curious dream. The antique, intricate, - endless ceremonial worked itself out as best it could, like some machine - of gigantic complexity which was a little out of order. The small central - figure went through her gyrations. She sat; she walked; she prayed; she - carried about an orb that was almost too heavy to hold; the Archbishop of - Canterbury came and crushed a ring upon the wrong finger, so that she was - ready to cry out with the pain; old Lord Rolle tripped up in his mantle - and fell down the steps as he was doing homage; she was taken into a side - chapel, where the altar was covered with a table-cloth, sandwiches, and - bottles of wine; she perceived Lehzen in an upper box and exchanged a - smile with her as she sat, robed and crowned, on the Confessor's throne. - "I shall ever remember this day as the PROUDEST of my life," she noted. - But the pride was soon merged once more in youth and simplicity. When she - returned to Buckingham Palace at last she was not tired; she ran up to her - private rooms, doffed her splendours, and gave her dog Dash its evening - bath. - </p> - <p> - Life flowed on again with its accustomed smoothness—though, of - course, the smoothness was occasionally disturbed. For one thing, there - was the distressing behaviour of Uncle Leopold. The King of the Belgians - had not been able to resist attempting to make use of his family position - to further his diplomatic ends. But, indeed, why should there be any - question of resisting? Was not such a course of conduct, far from being a - temptation, simply "selon les regles?" What were royal marriages for, if - they did not enable sovereigns, in spite of the hindrances of - constitutions, to control foreign politics? For the highest purposes, of - course; that was understood. The Queen of England was his niece—more - than that—almost his daughter; his confidential agent was living, in - a position of intimate favour, at her court. Surely, in such - circumstances, it would be preposterous, it would be positively incorrect, - to lose the opportunity of bending to his wishes by means of personal - influence, behind the backs of the English Ministers, the foreign policy - of England. - </p> - <p> - He set about the task with becoming precautions. He continued in his - letters his admirable advice. Within a few days of her accession, he - recommended the young Queen to lay emphasis, on every possible occasion, - upon her English birth; to praise the English nation; "the Established - Church I also recommend strongly; you cannot, without PLEDGING yourself to - anything PARTICULAR, SAY TOO MUCH ON THE SUBJECT." And then "before you - decide on anything important I should be glad if you would consult me; - this would also have the advantage of giving you time;" nothing was more - injurious than to be hurried into wrong decisions unawares. His niece - replied at once with all the accustomed warmth of her affection; but she - wrote hurriedly—and, perhaps, a trifle vaguely too. "YOUR advice is - always of the GREATEST IMPORTANCE to me," she said. - </p> - <p> - Had he, possibly, gone too far? He could not be certain; perhaps Victoria - HAD been hurried. In any case, he would be careful; he would draw back—"pour - mieux sauter" he added to himself with a smile. In his next letters he - made no reference to his suggestion of consultations with himself; he - merely pointed out the wisdom, in general, of refusing to decide upon - important questions off-hand. So far, his advice was taken; and it was - noticed that the Queen, when applications were made to her, rarely gave an - immediate answer. Even with Lord Melbourne, it was the same; when he asked - for her opinion upon any subject, she would reply that she would think it - over, and tell him her conclusions next day. - </p> - <p> - King Leopold's counsels continued. The Princess de Lieven, he said, was a - dangerous woman; there was reason to think that she would make attempts to - pry into what did not concern her, let Victoria beware. "A rule which I - cannot sufficiently recommend is NEVER TO PERMIT people to speak on - subjects concerning yourself or your affairs, without you having yourself - desired them to do so." Should such a thing occur, "change the - conversation, and make the individual feel that he has made a mistake." - This piece of advice was also taken; for it fell out as the King had - predicted. Madame de Lieven sought an audience, and appeared to be verging - towards confidential topics; whereupon the Queen, becoming slightly - embarrassed, talked of nothing but commonplaces. The individual felt that - she had made a mistake. - </p> - <p> - The King's next warning was remarkable. Letters, he pointed out, are - almost invariably read in the post. This was inconvenient, no doubt; but - the fact, once properly grasped, was not without its advantages. "I will - give you an example: we are still plagued by Prussia concerning those - fortresses; now to tell the Prussian Government many things, which we - SHOULD NOT LIKE to tell them officially, the Minister is going to write a - despatch to our man at Berlin, sending it BY POST; the Prussians ARE SURE - to read it, and to learn in this way what we wish them to hear. Analogous - circumstances might very probably occur in England. I tell you the TRICK," - wrote His Majesty, "that you should be able to guard against it." Such - were the subtleties of constitutional sovereignty. - </p> - <p> - It seemed that the time had come for another step. The King's next letter - was full of foreign politics—the situation in Spain and Portugal, - the character of Louis Philippe; and he received a favourable answer. - Victoria, it is true, began by saying that she had shown the POLITICAL - PART of his letter to Lord Melbourne; but she proceeded to a discussion of - foreign affairs. It appeared that she was not unwilling to exchange - observations on such matters with her uncle. So far so good. But King - Leopold was still cautious; though a crisis was impending in his - diplomacy, he still hung back; at last, however, he could keep silence no - longer. It was of the utmost importance to him that, in his manoeuvrings - with France and Holland, he should have, or at any rate appear to have, - English support. But the English Government appeared to adopt a neutral - attitude; it was too bad; not to be for him was to be against him, could - they not see that? Yet, perhaps, they were only wavering, and a little - pressure upon them from Victoria might still save all. He determined to - put the case before her, delicately yet forcibly—just as he saw it - himself. "All I want from your kind Majesty," he wrote, "is, that you will - OCCASIONALLY express to your Ministers, and particularly to good Lord - Melbourne, that, as far as it is COMPATIBLE with the interests of your own - dominions, you do NOT wish that your Government should take the lead in - such measures as might in a short time bring on the DESTRUCTION of this - country, as well as that of your uncle and his family." The result of this - appeal was unexpected; there was dead silence for more than a week. When - Victoria at last wrote, she was prodigal of her affection. "It would, - indeed, my dearest Uncle, be VERY WRONG of you, if you thought my feelings - of warm and devoted attachment to you, and of great affection for you, - could be changed—nothing can ever change them"—but her - references to foreign politics, though they were lengthy and elaborate, - were non-committal in the extreme; they were almost cast in an official - and diplomatic form. Her Ministers, she said, entirely shared her views - upon the subject; she understood and sympathised with the difficulties of - her beloved uncle's position; and he might rest assured "that both Lord - Melbourne and Lord Palmerston are most anxious at all times for the - prosperity and welfare of Belgium." That was all. The King in his reply - declared himself delighted, and re-echoed the affectionate protestations - of his niece. "My dearest and most beloved Victoria," he said, "you have - written me a VERY DEAR and long letter, which has given me GREAT PLEASURE - AND SATISFACTION." He would not admit that he had had a rebuff. - </p> - <p> - A few months later the crisis came. King Leopold determined to make a bold - push, and to carry Victoria with him, this time, by a display of royal - vigour and avuncular authority. In an abrupt, an almost peremptory letter, - he laid his case, once more, before his niece. "You know from experience," - he wrote, "that I NEVER ASK ANYTHING OF YOU... But, as I said before, if - we are not careful we may see serious consequences which may affect more - or less everybody, and THIS ought to be the object of our most anxious - attention. I remain, my dear Victoria, your affectionate uncle, Leopold - R." The Queen immediately despatched this letter to Lord Melbourne, who - replied with a carefully thought-out form of words, signifying nothing - whatever, which, he suggested, she should send to her uncle. She did so, - copying out the elaborate formula, with a liberal scattering of "dear - Uncles" interspersed; and she concluded her letter with a message of - "affectionate love to Aunt Louise and the children." Then at last King - Leopold was obliged to recognise the facts. His next letter contained no - reference at all to politics. "I am glad," he wrote, "to find that you - like Brighton better than last year. I think Brighton very agreeable at - this time of the year, till the east winds set in. The pavilion, besides, - is comfortable; that cannot be denied. Before my marriage, it was there - that I met the Regent. Charlotte afterwards came with old Queen Charlotte. - How distant all this already, but still how present to one's memory." Like - poor Madame de Lieven, His Majesty felt that he had made a mistake. - </p> - <p> - Nevertheless, he could not quite give up all hope. Another opportunity - offered, and he made another effort—but there was not very much - conviction in it, and it was immediately crushed. "My dear Uncle," the - Queen wrote, "I have to thank you for your last letter which I received on - Sunday. Though you seem not to dislike my political sparks, I think it is - better not to increase them, as they might finally take fire, particularly - as I see with regret that upon this one subject we cannot agree. I shall, - therefore, limit myself to my expressions of very sincere wishes for the - welfare and prosperity of Belgium." After that, it was clear that there - was no more to be said. Henceforward there is audible in the King's - letters a curiously elegiac note. "My dearest Victoria, your DELIGHTFUL - little letter has just arrived and went like AN ARROW TO MY HEART. Yes, my - beloved Victoria! I DO LOVE YOU TENDERLY... I love you FOR YOURSELF, and I - love in you the dear child whose welfare I tenderly watched." He had gone - through much; yet, if life had its disappointments, it had its - satisfactions too. "I have all the honours that can be given, and I am, - politically speaking, very solidly established." But there were other - things besides politics, there were romantic yearnings in his heart. "The - only longing I still have is for the Orient, where I perhaps shall once - end my life, rising in the west and setting in the east." As for his - devotion to his niece, that could never end. "I never press my services on - you, nor my councils, though I may say with some truth that from the - extraordinary fate which the higher powers had ordained for me, my - experience, both political and of private life, is great. I am ALWAYS - READY to be useful to you when and where and it may be, and I repeat it, - ALL I WANT IN RETURN IS SOME LITTLE SINCERE AFFECTION FROM YOU." - </p> - <p> - VI - </p> - <p> - The correspondence with King Leopold was significant of much that still - lay partly hidden in the character of Victoria. Her attitude towards her - uncle had never wavered for a moment. To all his advances she had - presented an absolutely unyielding front. The foreign policy of England - was not his province; it was hers and her Ministers'; his insinuations, - his entreaties, his struggles—all were quite useless; and he must - understand that this was so. The rigidity of her position was the more - striking owing to the respectfulness and the affection with which it was - accompanied. From start to finish the unmoved Queen remained the devoted - niece. Leopold himself must have envied such perfect correctitude; but - what may be admirable in an elderly statesman is alarming in a maiden of - nineteen. And privileged observers were not without their fears. The - strange mixture of ingenuous light-heartedness and fixed determination, of - frankness and reticence, of childishness and pride, seemed to augur a - future that was perplexed and full of dangers. As time passed the less - pleasant qualities in this curious composition revealed themselves more - often and more seriously. There were signs of an imperious, a peremptory - temper, an egotism that was strong and hard. It was noticed that the - palace etiquette, far from relaxing, grew ever more and more inflexible. - By some, this was attributed to Lehzen's influence; but, if that was so, - Lehzen had a willing pupil; for the slightest infringements of the - freezing rules of regularity and deference were invariably and immediately - visited by the sharp and haughty glances of the Queen. Yet Her Majesty's - eyes, crushing as they could be, were less crushing than her mouth. The - self-will depicted in those small projecting teeth and that small receding - chin was of a more dismaying kind than that which a powerful jaw betokens; - it was a self—will imperturbable, impenetrable, unintelligent; a - self-will dangerously akin to obstinacy. And the obstinacy of monarchs is - not as that of other men. - </p> - <p> - Within two years of her accession, the storm-clouds which, from the first, - had been dimly visible on the horizon, gathered and burst. Victoria's - relations with her mother had not improved. The Duchess of Kent, still - surrounded by all the galling appearances of filial consideration, - remained in Buckingham Palace a discarded figure, powerless and - inconsolable. Sir John Conroy, banished from the presence of the Queen, - still presided over the Duchess's household, and the hostilities of - Kensington continued unabated in the new surroundings. Lady Flora Hastings - still cracked her malicious jokes; the animosity of the Baroness was still - unappeased. One day, Lady Flora found the joke was turned against her. - Early in 1839, travelling in the suite of the Duchess, she had returned - from Scotland in the same carriage with Sir John. A change in her figure - became the subject of an unseemly jest; tongues wagged; and the jest grew - serious. It was whispered that Lady Flora was with child. The state of her - health seemed to confirm the suspicion; she consulted Sir James Clark, the - royal physician, and, after the consultation, Sir James let his tongue - wag, too. On this, the scandal flared up sky-high. Everyone was talking; - the Baroness was not surprised; the Duchess rallied tumultuously to the - support of her lady; the Queen was informed. At last the extraordinary - expedient of a medical examination was resorted to, during which Sir - James, according to Lady Flora, behaved with brutal rudeness, while a - second doctor was extremely polite. Finally, both physicians signed a - certificate entirely exculpating the lady. But this was by no means the - end of the business. The Hastings family, socially a very powerful one, - threw itself into the fray with all the fury of outraged pride and injured - innocence; Lord Hastings insisted upon an audience of the Queen, wrote to - the papers, and demanded the dismissal of Sir James Clark. The Queen - expressed her regret to Lady Flora, but Sir James Clark was not dismissed. - The tide of opinion turned violently against the Queen and her advisers; - high society was disgusted by all this washing of dirty linen in - Buckingham Palace; the public at large was indignant at the ill-treatment - of Lady Flora. By the end of March, the popularity, so radiant and so - abundant, with which the young Sovereign had begun her reign, had entirely - disappeared. - </p> - <p> - There can be no doubt that a great lack of discretion had been shown by - the Court. Ill-natured tittle-tattle, which should have been instantly - nipped in the bud, had been allowed to assume disgraceful proportions; and - the Throne itself had become involved in the personal malignities of the - palace. A particularly awkward question had been raised by the position of - Sir James Clark. The Duke of Wellington, upon whom it was customary to - fall back, in cases of great difficulty in high places, had been consulted - upon this question, and he had given it as his opinion that, as it would - be impossible to remove Sir James without a public enquiry, Sir James must - certainly stay where he was. Probably the Duke was right; but the fact - that the peccant doctor continued in the Queen's service made the Hastings - family irreconcilable and produced an unpleasant impression of unrepentant - error upon the public mind. As for Victoria, she was very young and quite - inexperienced; and she can hardly be blamed for having failed to control - an extremely difficult situation. That was clearly Lord Melbourne's task; - he was a man of the world, and, with vigilance and circumspection, he - might have quietly put out the ugly flames while they were still - smouldering. He did not do so; he was lazy and easy-going; the Baroness - was persistent, and he let things slide. But doubtless his position was - not an easy one; passions ran high in the palace; and Victoria was not - only very young, she was very headstrong, too. Did he possess the magic - bridle which would curb that fiery steed? He could not be certain. And - then, suddenly, another violent crisis revealed more unmistakably than - ever the nature of the mind with which he had to deal. - </p> - <p> - VII - </p> - <p> - The Queen had for long been haunted by a terror that the day might come - when she would be obliged to part with her Minister. Ever since the - passage of the Reform Bill, the power of the Whig Government had steadily - declined. The General Election of 1837 had left them with a very small - majority in the House of Commons; since then, they had been in constant - difflculties—abroad, at home, in Ireland; the Radical group had - grown hostile; it became highly doubtful how much longer they could - survive. The Queen watched the development of events in great anxiety. She - was a Whig by birth, by upbringing, by every association, public and - private; and, even if those ties had never existed, the mere fact that - Lord M. was the head of the Whigs would have amply sufficed to determine - her politics. The fall of the Whigs would mean a sad upset for Lord M. But - it would have a still more terrible consequence: Lord M. would have to - leave her; and the daily, the hourly, presence of Lord M. had become an - integral part of her life. Six months after her accession she had noted in - her diary "I shall be very sorry to lose him even for one night;" and this - feeling of personal dependence on her Minister steadily increased. In - these circumstances it was natural that she should have become a Whig - partisan. Of the wider significance of political questions she knew - nothing; all she saw was that her friends were in office and about her, - and that it would be dreadful if they ceased to be so. "I cannot say," she - wrote when a critical division was impending, "(though I feel confident of - our success) how low, how sad I feel, when I think of the possibility of - this excellent and truly kind man not remaining my Minister! Yet I trust - fervently that He who has so wonderfully protected me through such - manifold difficulties will not now desert me! I should have liked to have - expressed to Lord M. my anxiety, but the tears were nearer than words - throughout the time I saw him, and I felt I should have choked, had I - attempted to say anything." Lord Melbourne realised clearly enough how - undesirable was such a state of mind in a constitutional sovereign who - might be called upon at any moment to receive as her Ministers the leaders - of the opposite party; he did what he could to cool her ardour; but in - vain. - </p> - <p> - With considerable lack of foresight, too, he had himself helped to bring - about this unfortunate condition of affairs. From the moment of her - accession, he had surrounded the Queen with ladies of his own party; the - Mistress of the Robes and all the Ladies of the Bedchamber were Whigs. In - the ordinary course, the Queen never saw a Tory: eventually she took pains - never to see one in any circumstances. She disliked the whole tribe; and - she did not conceal the fact. She particularly disliked Sir Robert Peel, - who would almost certainly be the next Prime Minister. His manners were - detestable, and he wanted to turn out Lord M. His supporters, without - exception, were equally bad; and as for Sir James Graham, she could not - bear the sight of him; he was exactly like Sir John Conroy. - </p> - <p> - The affair of Lady Flora intensified these party rumours still further. - The Hastings were Tories, and Lord Melbourne and the Court were attacked - by the Tory press in unmeasured language. The Queen's sectarian zeal - proportionately increased. But the dreaded hour was now fast approaching. - Early in May the Ministers were visibly tottering; on a vital point of - policy they could only secure a majority of five in the House of Commons; - they determined to resign. When Victoria heard the news she burst into - tears. Was it possible, then, that all was over? Was she, indeed, about to - see Lord M. for the last time? Lord M. came; and it is a curious fact - that, even in this crowning moment of misery and agitation, the precise - girl noted, to the minute, the exact time of the arrival and the departure - of her beloved Minister. The conversation was touching and prolonged; but - it could only end in one way—the Queen must send for the Duke of - Wellington. When, next morning, the Duke came, he advised her Majesty to - send for Sir Robert Peel. She was in "a state of dreadful grief," but she - swallowed down her tears, and braced herself, with royal resolution, for - the odious, odious interview. - </p> - <p> - Peel was by nature reserved, proud, and shy. His manners were not perfect, - and he knew it; he was easily embarrassed, and, at such moments, he grew - even more stiff and formal than before, while his feet mechanically - performed upon the carpet a dancing-master's measure. Anxious as he now - was to win the Queen's good graces, his very anxiety to do so made the - attainment of his object the more difficult. He entirely failed to make - any headway whatever with the haughty hostile girl before him. She coldly - noted that he appeared to be unhappy and "put out," and, while he stood in - painful fixity, with an occasional uneasy pointing of the toe, her heart - sank within her at the sight of that manner, "Oh! how different, how - dreadfully different, to the frank, open, natural, and most kind warm - manner of Lord Melbourne." Nevertheless, the audience passed without - disaster. Only at one point had there been some slight hint of a - disagreement. Peel had decided that a change would be necessary in the - composition of the royal Household: the Queen must no longer be entirely - surrounded by the wives and sisters of his opponents; some, at any rate, - of the Ladies of the Bedchamber should be friendly to his Government. When - this matter was touched upon, the Queen had intimated that she wished her - Household to remain unchanged; to which Sir Robert had replied that the - question could be settled later, and shortly afterwards withdrew to - arrange the details of his Cabinet. While he was present, Victoria had - remained, as she herself said, "very much collected, civil and high, and - betrayed no agitation;" but as soon as she was alone she completely broke - down. Then she pulled herself together to write to Lord Melbourne an - account of all that had happened, and of her own wretchedness. "She - feels," she said, "Lord Melbourne will understand it, amongst enemies to - those she most relied on and most esteemed; but what is worst of all is - the being deprived of seeing Lord Melbourne as she used to do." - </p> - <p> - Lord Melbourne replied with a very wise letter. He attempted to calm the - Queen and to induce her to accept the new position gracefully; and he had - nothing but good words for the Tory leaders. As for the question of the - Ladies of the Household, the Queen, he said, should strongly urge what she - desired, as it was a matter which concerned her personally, "but," he - added, "if Sir Robert is unable to concede it, it will not do to refuse - and to put off the negotiation upon it." On this point there can be little - doubt that Lord Melbourne was right. The question was a complicated and - subtle one, and it had never arisen before; but subsequent constitutional - practice has determined that a Queen Regnant must accede to the wishes of - her Prime Minister as to the personnel of the female part of her - Household. Lord Melbourne's wisdom, however, was wasted. The Queen would - not be soothed, and still less would she take advice. It was outrageous of - the Tories to want to deprive her of her Ladies, and that night she made - up her mind that, whatever Sir Robert might say, she would refuse to - consent to the removal of a single one of them. Accordingly, when, next - morning, Peel appeared again, she was ready for action. He began by - detailing the Cabinet appointments, and then he added "Now, ma'am, about - the Ladies-" when the Queen sharply interrupted him. "I cannot give up any - of my Ladies," she said. "What, ma'am!" said Sir Robert, "does your - Majesty mean to retain them all?" "All," said the Queen. Sir Robert's face - worked strangely; he could not conceal his agitation. "The Mistress of the - Robes and the Ladies of the Bedchamber?" he brought out at last. "All," - replied once more her Majesty. It was in vain that Peel pleaded and - argued; in vain that he spoke, growing every moment more pompous and - uneasy, of the constitution, and Queens Regnant, and the public interest; - in vain that he danced his pathetic minuet. She was adamant; but he, too, - through all his embarrassment, showed no sign of yielding; and when at - last he left her nothing had been decided—the whole formation of the - Government was hanging in the wind. A frenzy of excitement now seized upon - Victoria. Sir Robert, she believed in her fury, had tried to outwit her, - to take her friends from her, to impose his will upon her own; but that - was not all: she had suddenly perceived, while the poor man was moving so - uneasily before her, the one thing that she was desperately longing for—a - loop-hole of escape. She seized a pen and dashed off a note to Lord - Melbourne. - </p> - <p> - "Sir Robert has behaved very ill," she wrote, "he insisted on my giving up - my Ladies, to which I replied that I never would consent, and I never saw - a man so frightened... I was calm but very decided, and I think you would - have been pleased to see my composure and great firmness; the Queen of - England will not submit to such trickery. Keep yourself in readiness, for - you may soon be wanted." Hardly had she finished when the Duke of - Wellington was announced. "Well, Ma'am," he said as he entered, "I am very - sorry to find there is a difficulty." "Oh!" she instantly replied, "he - began it, not me." She felt that only one thing now was needed: she must - be firm. And firm she was. The venerable conqueror of Napoleon was - outfaced by the relentless equanimity of a girl in her teens. He could not - move the Queen one inch. At last, she even ventured to rally him. "Is Sir - Robert so weak," she asked, "that even the Ladies must be of his opinion?" - On which the Duke made a brief and humble expostulation, bowed low, and - departed. - </p> - <p> - Had she won? Time would show; and in the meantime she scribbled down - another letter. "Lord Melbourne must not think the Queen rash in her - conduct... The Queen felt this was an attempt to see whether she could be - led and managed like a child."(*) The Tories were not only wicked but - ridiculous. Peel, having, as she understood, expressed a wish to remove - only those members of the Household who were in Parliament, now objected - to her Ladies. "I should like to know," she exclaimed in triumphant scorn, - "if they mean to give the Ladies seats in Parliament?" - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - (*) The exclamation "They wished to treat me like a girl, - but I will show them that I am Queen of England!" often - quoted as the Queen's, is apocryphal. It is merely part of - Greville's summary of the two letters to Melbourne. It may - be noted that the phrase "the Queen of England will not - submit to such trickery" is omitted in "Girlhood," and in - general there are numerous verbal discrepancies between the - versions of the journal and the letters in the two books. -</pre> - <p> - The end of the crisis was now fast approaching. Sir Robert returned, and - told her that if she insisted upon retaining all her Ladies he could not - form a Government. She replied that she would send him her final decision - in writing. Next morning the late Whig Cabinet met. Lord Melbourne read to - them the Queen's letters, and the group of elderly politicians were - overcome by an extraordinary wave of enthusiasm. They knew very well that, - to say the least, it was highly doubtful whether the Queen had acted in - strict accordance with the constitution; that in doing what she had done - she had brushed aside Lord Melbourne's advice; that, in reality, there was - no public reason whatever why they should go back upon their decision to - resign. But such considerations vanished before the passionate urgency of - Victoria. The intensity of her determination swept them headlong down the - stream of her desire. They unanimously felt that "it was impossible to - abandon such a Queen and such a woman." Forgetting that they were no - longer her Majesty's Ministers, they took the unprecedented course of - advising the Queen by letter to put an end to her negotiation with Sir - Robert Peel. She did so; all was over; she had triumphed. That evening - there was a ball at the Palace. Everyone was present. "Peel and the Duke - of Wellington came by looking very much put out." She was perfectly happy; - Lord M. was Prime Minister once more, and he was by her side. - </p> - <p> - VIII - </p> - <p> - Happiness had returned with Lord M., but it was happiness in the midst of - agitation. The domestic imbroglio continued unabated, until at last the - Duke, rejected as a Minister, was called in once again in his old capacity - as moral physician to the family. Something was accomplished when, at - last, he induced Sir John Conroy to resign his place about the Duchess of - Kent and leave the Palace for ever; something more when he persuaded the - Queen to write an affectionate letter to her mother. The way seemed open - for a reconciliation, but the Duchess was stormy still. She didn't believe - that Victoria had written that letter; it was not in her handwriting; and - she sent for the Duke to tell him so. The Duke, assuring her that the - letter was genuine, begged her to forget the past. But that was not so - easy. "What am I to do if Lord Melbourne comes up to me?" "Do, ma'am? Why, - receive him with civility." Well, she would make an effort... "But what am - I to do if Victoria asks me to shake hands with Lehzen?" "Do, ma'am? Why, - take her in your arms and kiss her." "What!" The Duchess bristled in every - feather, and then she burst into a hearty laugh. "No, ma'am, no," said the - Duke, laughing too. "I don't mean you are to take Lehzen in your arms and - kiss her, but the Queen." The Duke might perhaps have succeeded, had not - all attempts at conciliation been rendered hopeless by a tragical event. - Lady Flora, it was discovered, had been suffering from a terrible internal - malady, which now grew rapidly worse. There could be little doubt that she - was dying. The Queen's unpopularity reached an extraordinary height. More - than once she was publicly insulted. "Mrs. Melbourne," was shouted at her - when she appeared at her balcony; and, at Ascot, she was hissed by the - Duchess of Montrose and Lady Sarah Ingestre as she passed. Lady Flora - died. The whole scandal burst out again with redoubled vehemence; while, - in the Palace, the two parties were henceforth divided by an impassable, a - Stygian, gulf. - </p> - <p> - Nevertheless, Lord M. was back, and every trouble faded under the - enchantment of his presence and his conversation. He, on his side, had - gone through much; and his distresses were intensified by a consciousness - of his own shortcomings. He realised clearly enough that, if he had - intervened at the right moment, the Hastings scandal might have been - averted; and, in the bedchamber crisis, he knew that he had allowed his - judgment to be overruled and his conduct to be swayed by private feelings - and the impetuosity of Victoria. But he was not one to suffer too acutely - from the pangs of conscience. In spite of the dullness and the formality - of the Court, his relationship with the Queen had come to be the - dominating interest in his life; to have been deprived of it would have - been heartrending; that dread eventuality had been—somehow—avoided; - he was installed once more, in a kind of triumph; let him enjoy the - fleeting hours to the full! And so, cherished by the favour of a sovereign - and warmed by the adoration of a girl, the autumn rose, in those autumn - months of 1839, came to a wondrous blooming. The petals expanded, - beautifully, for the last time. For the last time in this unlooked—for, - this incongruous, this almost incredible intercourse, the old epicure - tasted the exquisiteness of romance. To watch, to teach, to restrain, to - encourage the royal young creature beside him—that was much; to feel - with such a constant intimacy the impact of her quick affection, her - radiant vitality—that was more; most of all, perhaps, was it good to - linger vaguely in humorous contemplation, in idle apostrophe, to talk - disconnectedly, to make a little joke about an apple or a furbelow, to - dream. The springs of his sensibility, hidden deep within him, were - overflowing. Often, as he bent over her hand and kissed it, he found - himself in tears. - </p> - <p> - Upon Victoria, with all her impermeability, it was inevitable that such a - companionship should have produced, eventually, an effect. She was no - longer the simple schoolgirl of two years since. The change was visible - even in her public demeanour. Her expression, once "ingenuous and serene," - now appeared to a shrewd observer to be "bold and discontented." She had - learnt something of the pleasures of power and the pains of it; but that - was not all. Lord Melbourne with his gentle instruction had sought to lead - her into the paths of wisdom and moderation, but the whole unconscious - movement of his character had swayed her in a very different direction. - The hard clear pebble, subjected for so long and so constantly to that - encircling and insidious fluidity, had suffered a curious corrosion; it - seemed to be actually growing a little soft and a little clouded. Humanity - and fallibility are infectious things; was it possible that Lehzen's prim - pupil had caught them? That she was beginning to listen to siren voices? - That the secret impulses of self-expression, of self-indulgence even, were - mastering her life? For a moment the child of a new age looked back, and - wavered towards the eighteenth century. It was the most critical moment of - her career. Had those influences lasted, the development of her character, - the history of her life, would have been completely changed. - </p> - <p> - And why should they not last? She, for one, was very anxious that they - should. Let them last for ever! She was surrounded by Whigs, she was free - to do whatever she wanted, she had Lord M.; she could not believe that she - could ever be happier. Any change would be for the worse; and the worst - change of all... no, she would not hear of it; it would be quite - intolerable, it would upset everything, if she were to marry. And yet - everyone seemed to want her to—the general public, the Ministers, - her Saxe-Coburg relations—it was always the same story. Of course, - she knew very well that there were excellent reasons for it. For one - thing, if she remained childless, and were to die, her uncle Cumberland, - who was now the King of Hanover, would succeed to the Throne of England. - That, no doubt, would be a most unpleasant event; and she entirely - sympathised with everybody who wished to avoid it. But there was no hurry; - naturally, she would marry in the end—but not just yet—not for - three or four years. What was tiresome was that her uncle Leopold had - apparently determined, not only that she ought to marry, but that her - cousin Albert ought to be her husband. That was very like her uncle - Leopold, who wanted to have a finger in every pie; and it was true that - long ago, in far-off days, before her accession even, she had written to - him in a way which might well have encouraged him in such a notion. She - had told him then that Albert possessed "every quality that could be - desired to render her perfectly happy," and had begged her "dearest uncle - to take care of the health of one, now so dear to me, and to take him - under your special protection," adding, "I hope and trust all will go on - prosperously and well on this subject of so much importance to me." But - that had been years ago, when she was a mere child; perhaps, indeed, to - judge from the language, the letter had been dictated by Lehzen; at any - rate, her feelings, and all the circumstances, had now entirely changed. - Albert hardly interested her at all. - </p> - <p> - In later life the Queen declared that she had never for a moment dreamt of - marrying anyone but her cousin; her letters and diaries tell a very - different story. On August 26, 1837, she wrote in her journal: "To-day is - my dearest cousin Albert's 18th birthday, and I pray Heaven to pour its - choicest blessings on his beloved head!" In the subsequent years, however, - the date passes unnoticed. It had been arranged that Stockmar should - accompany the Prince to Italy, and the faithful Baron left her side for - that purpose. He wrote to her more than once with sympathetic descriptions - of his young companion; but her mind was by this time made up. She liked - and admired Albert very much, but she did not want to marry him. "At - present," she told Lord Melbourne in April, 1839, "my feeling is quite - against ever marrying." When her cousin's Italian tour came to an end, she - began to grow nervous; she knew that, according to a long-standing - engagement, his next journey would be to England. He would probably arrive - in the autumn, and by July her uneasiness was intense. She determined to - write to her uncle, in order to make her position clear. It must be - understood she said, that "there is no no engagement between us." If she - should like Albert, she could "make no final promise this year, for, at - the very earliest, any such event could not take place till two or three - years hence." She had, she said, "a great repugnance" to change her - present position; and, if she should not like him, she was "very anxious - that it should be understood that she would not be guilty of any breach of - promise, for she never gave any." To Lord Melbourne she was more explicit. - She told him that she "had no great wish to see Albert, as the whole - subject was an odious one;" she hated to have to decide about it; and she - repeated once again that seeing Albert would be "a disagreeable thing." - But there was no escaping the horrid business; the visit must be made, and - she must see him. The summer slipped by and was over; it was the autumn - already; on the evening of October 10 Albert, accompanied by his brother - Ernest, arrived at Windsor. - </p> - <p> - Albert arrived; and the whole structure of her existence crumbled into - nothingness like a house of cards. He was beautiful—she gasped—she - knew no more. Then, in a flash, a thousand mysteries were revealed to her; - the past, the present, rushed upon her with a new significance; the - delusions of years were abolished, and an extraordinary, an irresistible - certitude leapt into being in the light of those blue eyes, the smile of - that lovely mouth. The succeeding hours passed in a rapture. She was able - to observe a few more details—the "exquisite nose," the "delicate - moustachios and slight but very slight whiskers," the "beautiful figure, - broad in the shoulders and a fine waist." She rode with him, danced with - him, talked with him, and it was all perfection. She had no shadow of a - doubt. He had come on a Thursday evening, and on the following Sunday - morning she told Lord Melbourne that she had "a good deal changed her - opinion as to marrying." Next morning, she told him that she had made up - her mind to marry Albert. The morning after that, she sent for her cousin. - She received him alone, and "after a few minutes I said to him that I - thought he must be aware why I wished them to come here—and that it - would make me too happy if he would consent to what I wished (to marry - me.)" Then "we embraced each other, and he was so kind, so affectionate." - She said that she was quite unworthy of him, while he murmured that he - would be very happy "Das Leben mit dir zu zubringen." They parted, and she - felt "the happiest of human beings," when Lord M. came in. At first she - beat about the bush, and talked of the weather, and indifferent subjects. - Somehow or other she felt a little nervous with her old friend. At last, - summoning up her courage, she said, "I have got well through this with - Albert." "Oh! you have," said Lord M. - </p> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER IV. MARRIAGE - </h2> - <h3> - I - </h3> - <p> - It was decidedly a family match. Prince Francis Charles Augustus Albert - Emmanuel of Saxe-Coburg—Gotha—for such was his full title—had - been born just three months after his cousin Victoria, and the same - midwife had assisted at the two births. The children's grandmother, the - Dowager Duchess of Coburg, had from the first looked forward to their - marriage, as they grew up, the Duke, the Duchess of Kent, and King Leopold - came equally to desire it. The Prince, ever since the time when, as a - child of three, his nurse had told him that some day "the little English - May flower" would be his wife, had never thought of marrying anyone else. - When eventually Baron Stockmar himself signified his assent, the affair - seemed as good as settled. - </p> - <p> - The Duke had one other child—Prince Ernest, Albert's senior by one - year, and heir to the principality. The Duchess was a sprightly and - beautiful woman, with fair hair and blue eyes; Albert was very like her - and was her declared favourite. But in his fifth year he was parted from - her for ever. The ducal court was not noted for the strictness of its - morals; the Duke was a man of gallantry, and it was rumoured that the - Duchess followed her husband's example. There were scandals: one of the - Court Chamberlains, a charming and cultivated man of Jewish extraction, - was talked of; at last there was a separation, followed by a divorce. The - Duchess retired to Paris, and died unhappily in 1831. Her memory was - always very dear to Albert. - </p> - <p> - He grew up a pretty, clever, and high-spirited boy. Usually well-behaved, - he was, however, sometimes violent. He had a will of his own, and asserted - it; his elder brother was less passionate, less purposeful, and, in their - wrangles, it was Albert who came out top. The two boys, living for the - most part in one or other of the Duke's country houses, among pretty hills - and woods and streams, had been at a very early age—Albert was less - than four—separated from their nurses and put under a tutor, in - whose charge they remained until they went to the University. They were - brought up in a simple and unostentatious manner, for the Duke was poor - and the duchy very small and very insignificant. Before long it became - evident that Albert was a model lad. Intelligent and painstaking, he had - been touched by the moral earnestness of his generation; at the age of - eleven he surprised his father by telling him that he hoped to make - himself "a good and useful man." And yet he was not over-serious; though, - perhaps, he had little humour, he was full of fun—of practical jokes - and mimicry. He was no milksop; he rode, and shot, and fenced; above all - did he delight in being out of doors, and never was he happier than in his - long rambles with his brother through the wild country round his beloved - Rosenau—stalking the deer, admiring the scenery, and returning laden - with specimens for his natural history collection. He was, besides, - passionately fond of music. In one particular it was observed that he did - not take after his father: owing either to his peculiar upbringing or to a - more fundamental idiosyncrasy he had a marked distaste for the opposite - sex. At the age of five, at a children's dance, he screamed with disgust - and anger when a little girl was led up to him for a partner; and though, - later on, he grew more successful in disguising such feelings, the - feelings remained. - </p> - <p> - The brothers were very popular in Coburg, and, when the time came for them - to be confirmed, the preliminary examination which, according to ancient - custom, was held in public in the "Giants' Hall" of the Castle, was - attended by an enthusiastic crowd of functionaries, clergy, delegates from - the villages of the duchy, and miscellaneous onlookers. There were also - present, besides the Duke and the Dowager Duchess, their Serene Highnesses - the Princes Alexander and Ernest of Wurtemberg, Prince Leiningen, Princess - Hohenlohe-Langenburg, and Princess Hohenlohe-Schillingsfurst. Dr. Jacobi, - the Court chaplain, presided at an altar, simply but appropriately - decorated, which had been placed at the end of the hall; and the - proceedings began by the choir singing the first verse of the hymn, "Come, - Holy Ghost." After some introductory remarks, Dr. Jacobi began the - examination. "The dignified and decorous bearing of the Princes," we are - told in a contemporary account, "their strict attention to the questions, - the frankness, decision, and correctness of their answers, produced a deep - impression on the numerous assembly. Nothing was more striking in their - answers than the evidence they gave of deep feeling and of inward strength - of conviction. The questions put by the examiner were not such as to be - met by a simple 'yes' or 'no.' They were carefully considered in order to - give the audience a clear insight into the views and feelings of,the young - princes. One of the most touching moments was when the examiner asked the - hereditary prince whether he intended steadfastly to hold to the - Evangelical Church, and the Prince answered not only 'Yes!' but added in a - clear and decided tone: 'I and my brother are firmly resolved ever to - remain faithful to the acknowledged truth.' The examination having lasted - an hour, Dr. Jacobi made some concluding observations, followed by a short - prayer; the second and third verses of the opening hymn were sung; and the - ceremony was over. The Princes, stepping down from the altar, were - embraced by the Duke and the Dowager Duchess; after which the loyal - inhabitants of Coburg dispersed, well satisfied with their entertainment." - </p> - <p> - Albert's mental development now proceeded apace. In his seventeenth year - he began a careful study of German literature and German philosophy. He - set about, he told his tutor, "to follow the thoughts of the great - Klopstock into their depths—though in this, for the most part," he - modestly added, "I do not succeed." He wrote an essay on the "Mode of - Thought of the Germans, and a Sketch of the History of German - Civilisation," "making use," he said, "in its general outlines, of the - divisions which the treatment of the subject itself demands," and - concluding with "a retrospect of the shortcomings of our time, with an - appeal to every one to correct those shortcomings in his own case, and - thus set a good example to others." Placed for some months under the care - of King Leopold at Brussels, he came under the influence of Adolphe - Quetelet, a mathematical professor, who was particularly interested in the - application of the laws of probability to political and moral phenomena; - this line of inquiry attracted the Prince, and the friendship thus begun - continued till the end of his life. From Brussels he went to the - University of Bonn, where he was speedily distinguished both by his - intellectual and his social activities; his energies were absorbed in - metaphysics, law, political economy, music, fencing, and amateur - theatricals. Thirty years later his fellow—students recalled with - delight the fits of laughter into which they had been sent by Prince - Albert's mimicry. The verve with which his Serene Highness reproduced the - tones and gestures of one of the professors who used to point to a picture - of a row of houses in Venice with the remark, "That is the Ponte-Realte," - and of another who fell down in a race and was obliged to look for his - spectacles, was especially appreciated. - </p> - <p> - After a year at Bonn, the time had come for a foreign tour, and Baron - Stockmar arrived from England to accompany the Prince on an expedition to - Italy. The Baron had been already, two years previously, consulted by King - Leopold as to his views upon the proposed marriage of Albert and Victoria. - His reply had been remarkable. With a characteristic foresight, a - characteristic absence of optimism, a characteristic sense of the moral - elements in the situation, Stockmar had pointed out what were, in his - opinion, the conditions essential to make the marriage a success. Albert, - he wrote, "was a fine young fellow, well grown for his age, with agreeable - and valuable qualities; and it was probable that in a few years he would - turn out a strong handsome man, of a kindly, simple, yet dignified - demeanour. Thus, externally, he possesses all that pleases the sex, and at - all times and in all countries must please." Supposing, therefore, that - Victoria herself was in favour of the marriage, the further question arose - as to whether Albert's mental qualities were such as to fit him for the - position of husband of the Queen of England. On this point, continued the - Baron, one heard much to his credit; the Prince was said to be discreet - and intelligent; but all such judgments were necessarily partial, and the - Baron preferred to reserve his opinion until he could come to a - trustworthy conclusion from personal observation. And then he added: "But - all this is not enough. The young man ought to have not merely great - ability, but a right ambition, and great force of will as well. To pursue - for a lifetime a political career so arduous demands more than energy and - inclination—it demands also that earnest frame of mind which is - ready of its own accord to sacrifice mere pleasure to real usefulness. If - he is not satisfied hereafter with the consciousness of having achieved - one of the most influential positions in Europe, how often will he feel - tempted to repent his adventure! If he does not from the very outset - accept it as a vocation of grave responsibility, on the efficient - performance of which his honour and happiness depend, there is small - likelihood of his succeeding." - </p> - <p> - Such were the views of Stockmar on the qualifications necessary for the - due fulfilment of that destiny which Albert's family had marked out for - him; and he hoped, during the tour in Italy, to come to some conclusion as - to how far the prince possessed them. Albert on his side was much - impressed by the Baron, whom he had previously seen but rarely; he also - became acquainted, for the first time in his life, with a young - Englishman, Lieutenant Francis Seymour, who had been engaged to accompany - him, whom he found sehr liebens-wurdig, and with whom he struck up a warm - friendship. He delighted in the galleries and scenery of Florence, though - with Rome he was less impressed. "But for some beautiful palaces," he - said, "it might just as well be any town in Germany." In an interview with - Pope Gregory XVI, he took the opportunity of displaying his erudition. - When the Pope observed that the Greeks had taken their art from the - Etruscans, Albert replied that, on the contrary, in his opinion, they had - borrowed from the Egyptians: his Holiness politely acquiesced. Wherever he - went he was eager to increase his knowledge, and, at a ball in Florence, - he was observed paying no attention whatever to the ladies, and deep in - conversation with the learned Signor Capponi. "Voila un prince dont nous - pouvons etre fiers," said the Grand Duke of Tuscany, who was standing by: - "la belle danseuse l'attend, le savant l'occupe." - </p> - <p> - On his return to Germany, Stockmar's observations, imparted to King - Leopold, were still critical. Albert, he said, was intelligent, kind, and - amiable; he was full of the best intentions and the noblest resolutions, - and his judgment was in many things beyond his years. But great exertion - was repugnant to him; he seemed to be too willing to spare himself, and - his good resolutions too often came to nothing. It was particularly - unfortunate that he took not the slightest interest in politics, and never - read a newspaper. In his manners, too, there was still room for - improvement. "He will always," said the Baron, "have more success with men - than with women, in whose society he shows too little empressement, and is - too indifferent and retiring." One other feature of the case was noted by - the keen eye of the old physician: the Prince's constitution was not a - strong one. Yet, on the whole, he was favourable to the projected - marriage. But by now the chief obstacle seemed to lie in another quarter, - Victoria was apparently determined to commit herself to nothing. And so it - happened that when Albert went to England he had made up his mind to - withdraw entirely from the affair. Nothing would induce him, he confessed - to a friend, to be kept vaguely waiting; he would break it all off at - once. His reception at Windsor threw an entirely new light upon the - situation. The wheel of fortune turned with a sudden rapidity; and he - found, in the arms of Victoria, the irrevocable assurance of his - overwhelming fate. - </p> - <p> - II - </p> - <p> - He was not in love with her. Affection, gratitude, the natural reactions - to the unqualified devotion of a lively young cousin who was also a queen—such - feelings possessed him, but the ardours of reciprocal passion were not - his. Though he found that he liked Victoria very much, what immediately - interested him in his curious position was less her than himself. Dazzled - and delighted, riding, dancing, singing, laughing, amid the splendours of - Windsor, he was aware of a new sensation—the stirrings of ambition - in his breast. His place would indeed be a high, an enviable one! And - then, on the instant, came another thought. The teaching of religion, the - admonitions of Stockmar, his own inmost convictions, all spoke with the - same utterance. He would not be there to please himself, but for a very - different purpose—to do good. He must be "noble, manly, and princely - in all things," he would have "to live and to sacrifice himself for the - benefit of his new country;" to "use his powers and endeavours for a great - object—that of promoting the welfare of multitudes of his - fellowmen." One serious thought led on to another. The wealth and the - bustle of the English Court might be delightful for the moment, but, after - all, it was Coburg that had his heart. "While I shall be untiring," he - wrote to his grandmother, "in my efforts and labours for the country to - which I shall in future belong, and where I am called to so high a - position, I shall never cease ein treuer Deutscher, Coburger, Gothaner zu - sein." And now he must part from Coburg for ever! Sobered and sad, he - sought relief in his brother Ernest's company; the two young men would - shut themselves up together, and, sitting down at the pianoforte, would - escape from the present and the future in the sweet familiar gaiety of a - Haydn duet. - </p> - <p> - They returned to Germany; and while Albert, for a few farewell months, - enjoyed, for the last time, the happiness of home, Victoria, for the last - time, resumed her old life in London and Windsor. She corresponded daily - with her future husband in a mingled flow of German and English; but the - accustomed routine reasserted itself; the business and the pleasures of - the day would brook no interruption; Lord M. was once more constantly - beside her; and the Tories were as intolerable as ever. Indeed, they were - more so. For now, in these final moments, the old feud burst out with - redoubled fury. The impetuous sovereign found, to her chagrin, that there - might be disadvantages in being the declared enemy of one of the great - parties in the State. On two occasions, the Tories directly thwarted her - in a matter on which she had set her heart. She wished her husband's rank - to be axed by statute, and their opposition prevented it. She wished her - husband to receive a settlement from the nation of L50,000 a year; and, - again owing to the Tories, he was only allowed L30,000. It was too bad. - When the question was discussed in Parliament, it had been pointed out - that the bulk of the population was suffering from great poverty, and that - L30,000 was the whole revenue of Coburg; but her uncle Leopold had been - given L50,000, and it would be monstrous to give Albert less. Sir Robert - Peel—it might have been expected—had had the effrontery to - speak and vote for the smaller sum. She was very angry; and determined to - revenge herself by omitting to invite a single Tory to her wedding. She - would make an exception in favour of old Lord Liverpool, but even the Duke - of Wellington she refused to ask. When it was represented to her that it - would amount to a national scandal if the Duke were absent from her - wedding, she was angrier than ever. "What! That old rebel! I won't have - him:" she was reported to have said. Eventually she was induced to send - him an invitation; but she made no attempt to conceal the bitterness of - her feelings, and the Duke himself was only too well aware of all that had - passed. - </p> - <p> - Nor was it only against the Tories that her irritation rose. As the time - for her wedding approached, her temper grew steadily sharper and more - arbitrary. Queen Adelaide annoyed her. King Leopold, too, was "ungracious" - in his correspondence; "Dear Uncle," she told Albert, "is given to believe - that he must rule the roost everywhere. However," she added with asperity, - "that is not a necessity." Even Albert himself was not impeccable. - Engulfed in Coburgs, he failed to appreciate the complexity of English - affairs. There were difficulties about his household. He had a notion that - he ought not to be surrounded by violent Whigs; very likely, but he would - not understand that the only alternatives to violent Whigs were violent - Tories; and it would be preposterous if his Lords and Gentlemen were to be - found voting against the Queen's. He wanted to appoint his own Private - Secretary. But how could he choose the right person? Lord M. was obviously - best qualified to make the appointment; and Lord M. had decided that the - Prince should take over his own Private Secretary—George Anson, a - staunch Whig. Albert protested, but it was useless; Victoria simply - announced that Anson was appointed, and instructed Lehzen to send the - Prince an explanation of the details of the case. - </p> - <p> - Then, again, he had written anxiously upon the necessity of maintaining - unspotted the moral purity of the Court. Lord M's pupil considered that - dear Albert was strait-laced, and, in a brisk Anglo-German missive, set - forth her own views. "I like Lady A. very much," she told him, "only she - is a little strict awl particular, and too severe towards others, which is - not right; for I think one ought always to be indulgent towards other - people, as I always think, if we had not been well taken care of, we might - also have gone astray. That is always my feeling. Yet it is always right - to show that one does not like to see what is obviously wrong; but it is - very dangerous to be too severe, and I am certain that as a rule such - people always greatly regret that in their youth they have not been so - careful as they ought to have been. I have explained this so badly and - written it so badly, that I fear you will hardly be able to make it out." - </p> - <p> - On one other matter she was insistent. Since the affair of Lady Flora - Hastings, a sad fate had overtaken Sir James Clark. His flourishing - practice had quite collapsed; nobody would go to him any more. But the - Queen remained faithful. She would show the world how little she cared for - their disapproval, and she desired Albert to make "poor Clark" his - physician in ordinary. He did as he was told; but, as it turned out, the - appointment was not a happy one. - </p> - <p> - The wedding-day was fixed, and it was time for Albert to tear himself away - from his family and the scenes of his childhood. With an aching heart, he - had revisited his beloved haunts—the woods and the valleys where he - had spent so many happy hours shooting rabbits and collecting botanical - specimens; in deep depression, he had sat through the farewell banquets in - the Palace and listened to the Freischutz performed by the State band. It - was time to go. The streets were packed as he drove through them; for a - short space his eyes were gladdened by a sea of friendly German faces, and - his ears by a gathering volume of good guttural sounds. He stopped to bid - a last adieu to his grandmother. It was a heartrending moment. "Albert! - Albert!" she shrieked, and fell fainting into the arms of her attendants - as his carriage drove away. He was whirled rapidly to his destiny. At - Calais a steamboat awaited him, and, together with his father and his - brother, he stepped, dejected, on board. A little later, he was more - dejected still. The crossing was a very rough one; the Duke went hurriedly - below; while the two Princes, we are told, lay on either side of the cabin - staircase "in an almost helpless state." At Dover a large crowd was - collected on the pier, and "it was by no common effort that Prince Albert, - who had continued to suffer up to the last moment, got up to bow to the - people." His sense of duty triumphed. It was a curious omen: his whole - life in England was foreshadowed as he landed on English ground. - </p> - <p> - Meanwhile Victoria, in growing agitation, was a prey to temper and to - nerves. She grew feverish, and at last Sir James Clark pronounced that she - was going to have the measles. But, once again, Sir James's diagnosis was - incorrect. It was not the measles that were attacking her, but a very - different malady; she was suddenly prostrated by alarm, regret, and doubt. - For two years she had been her own mistress—the two happiest years, - by far, of her life. And now it was all to end! She was to come under an - alien domination—she would have to promise that she would honour and - obey... someone, who might, after all, thwart her, oppose her—and - how dreadful that would be! Why had she embarked on this hazardous - experiment? Why had she not been contented with Lord M.? No doubt, she - loved Albert; but she loved power too. At any rate, one thing was certain: - she might be Albert's wife, but she would always be Queen of England. He - reappeared, in an exquisite uniform, and her hesitations melted in his - presence like mist before the sun. On February 10, 1840, the marriage took - place. The wedded pair drove down to Windsor; but they were not, of - course, entirely alone. They were accompanied by their suites, and, in - particular, by two persons—the Baron Stockmar and the Baroness - Lehzen. - </p> - <p> - III - </p> - <p> - Albert had foreseen that his married life would not be all plain sailing; - but he had by no means realised the gravity and the complication of the - difficulties which he would have to face. Politically, he was a cipher. - Lord Melbourne was not only Prime Minister, he was in effect the Private - Secretary of the Queen, and thus controlled the whole of the political - existence of the sovereign. A queen's husband was an entity unknown to the - British Constitution. In State affairs there seemed to be no place for - him; nor was Victoria herself at all unwilling that this should be so. - "The English," she had told the Prince when, during their engagement, a - proposal had been made to give him a peerage, "are very jealous of any - foreigner interfering in the government of this country, and have already - in some of the papers expressed a hope that you would not interfere. Now, - though I know you never would, still, if you were a Peer, they would all - say, the Prince meant to play a political part. I know you never would!" - In reality, she was not quite so certain; but she wished Albert to - understand her views. He would, she hoped, make a perfect husband; but, as - for governing the country, he would see that she and Lord M. between them - could manage that very well, without his help. - </p> - <p> - But it was not only in politics that the Prince discovered that the part - cut out for him was a negligible one. Even as a husband, he found, his - functions were to be of an extremely limited kind. Over the whole of - Victoria's private life the Baroness reigned supreme; and she had not the - slightest intention of allowing that supremacy to be diminished by one - iota. Since the accession, her power had greatly increased. Besides the - undefined and enormous influence which she exercised through her - management of the Queen's private correspondence, she was now the - superintendent of the royal establishment and controlled the important - office of Privy Purse. Albert very soon perceived that he was not master - in his own house. Every detail of his own and his wife's existence was - supervised by a third person: nothing could be done until the consent of - Lehzen had first been obtained. And Victoria, who adored Lehzen with - unabated intensity, saw nothing in all this that was wrong. - </p> - <p> - Nor was the Prince happier in his social surroundings. A shy young - foreigner, awkward in ladies' company, unexpansive and self-opinionated, - it was improbable that, in any circumstances, he would have been a society - success. His appearance, too, was against him. Though in the eyes of - Victoria he was the mirror of manly beauty, her subjects, whose eyes were - of a less Teutonic cast, did not agree with her. To them—and - particularly to the high-born ladies and gentlemen who naturally saw him - most—what was immediately and distressingly striking in Albert's - face and figure and whole demeanour was his un-English look. His features - were regular, no doubt, but there was something smooth and smug about - them; he was tall, but he was clumsily put together, and he walked with a - slight slouch. Really, they thought, this youth was more like some kind of - foreign tenor than anything else. These were serious disadvantages; but - the line of conduct which the Prince adopted from the first moment of his - arrival was far from calculated to dispel them. Owing partly to a natural - awkwardness, partly to a fear of undue familiarity, and partly to a desire - to be absolutely correct, his manners were infused with an extraordinary - stiffness and formality. Whenever he appeared in company, he seemed to be - surrounded by a thick hedge of prickly etiquette. He never went out into - ordinary society; he never walked in the streets of London; he was - invariably accompanied by an equerry when he rode or drove. He wanted to - be irreproachable and, if that involved friendlessness, it could not be - helped. Besides, he had no very high opinion of the English. So far as he - could see, they cared for nothing but fox-hunting and Sunday observances; - they oscillated between an undue frivolity and an undue gloom; if you - spoke to them of friendly joyousness they stared; and they did not - understand either the Laws of Thought or the wit of a German University. - Since it was clear that with such people he could have very little in - common, there was no reason whatever for relaxing in their favour the - rules of etiquette. In strict privacy, he could be natural and charming; - Seymour and Anson were devoted to him, and he returned their affection; - but they were subordinates—the receivers of his confidences and the - agents of his will. From the support and the solace of true companionship - he was utterly cut off. - </p> - <p> - A friend, indeed, he had—or rather, a mentor. The Baron, established - once more in the royal residence, was determined to work with as - wholehearted a detachment for the Prince's benefit as, more than twenty - years before, he had worked for his uncle's. The situations then and now, - similar in many respects, were yet full of differences. Perhaps in either - case the difficulties to be encountered were equally great; but the - present problem was the more complex and the more interesting. The young - doctor who, unknown and insignificant, had nothing at the back of him but - his own wits and the friendship of an unimportant Prince, had been - replaced by the accomplished confidant of kings and ministers, ripe in - years, in reputation, and in the wisdom of a vast experience. It was - possible for him to treat Albert with something of the affectionate - authority of a father; but, on the other hand, Albert was no Leopold. As - the Baron was very well aware, he had none of his uncle's rigidity of - ambition, none of his overweening impulse to be personally great. He was - virtuous and well-intentioned; he was clever and well-informed; but he - took no interest in politics, and there were no signs that he possessed - any commanding force of character. Left to himself, he would almost - certainly have subsided into a high-minded nonentity, an aimless - dilettante busy over culture, a palace appendage without influence or - power. But he was not left to himself: Stockmar saw to that. For ever at - his pupil's elbow, the hidden Baron pushed him forward, with tireless - pressure, along the path which had been trod by Leopold so many years ago. - But, this time, the goal at the end of it was something more than the - mediocre royalty that Leopold had reached. The prize which Stockmar, with - all the energy of disinterested devotion, had determined should be - Albert's was a tremendous prize indeed. - </p> - <p> - The beginning of the undertaking proved to be the most arduous part of it. - Albert was easily dispirited: what was the use of struggling to perform in - a role which bored him and which, it was quite clear, nobody but the dear - good Baron had any desire that he should take up? It was simpler, and it - saved a great deal of trouble, to let things slide. But Stockmar would not - have it. Incessantly, he harped upon two strings—Albert's sense of - duty and his personal pride. Had the Prince forgotten the noble aims to - which his life was to be devoted? And was he going to allow himself, his - wife, his family, his whole existence, to be governed by Baroness Lehzen? - The latter consideration was a potent one. Albert had never been - accustomed to giving way; and now, more than ever before, it would be - humiliating to do so. Not only was he constantly exasperated by the - position of the Baroness in the royal household; there was another and a - still more serious cause of complaint. He was, he knew very well, his - wife's intellectual superior, and yet he found, to his intense annoyance, - that there were parts of her mind over which he exercised no influence. - When, urged on by the Baron, he attempted to discuss politics with - Victoria, she eluded the subject, drifted into generalities, and then - began to talk of something else. She was treating him as she had once - treated their uncle Leopold. When at last he protested, she replied that - her conduct was merely the result of indolence; that when she was with him - she could not bear to bother her head with anything so dull as politics. - The excuse was worse than the fault: was he the wife and she the husband? - It almost seemed so. But the Baron declared that the root of the mischief - was Lehzen: that it was she who encouraged the Queen to have secrets; who - did worse—undermined the natural ingenuousness of Victoria, and - induced her to give, unconsciously no doubt, false reasons to explain away - her conduct. - </p> - <p> - Minor disagreements made matters worse. The royal couple differed in their - tastes. Albert, brought up in a regime of Spartan simplicity and early - hours, found the great Court functions intolerably wearisome, and was - invariably observed to be nodding on the sofa at half-past ten; while the - Queen's favourite form of enjoyment was to dance through the night, and - then, going out into the portico of the Palace, watch the sun rise behind - St. Paul's and the towers of Westminster. She loved London and he detested - it. It was only in Windsor that he felt he could really breathe; but - Windsor too had its terrors: though during the day there he could paint - and walk and play on the piano, after dinner black tedium descended like a - pall. He would have liked to summon distinguished scientific and literary - men to his presence, and after ascertaining their views upon various - points of art and learning, to set forth his own; but unfortunately - Victoria "had no fancy to encourage such people;" knowing that she was - unequal to taking a part in their conversation, she insisted that the - evening routine should remain unaltered; the regulation interchange of - platitudes with official persons was followed as usual by the round table - and the books of engravings, while the Prince, with one of his attendants, - played game after game of double chess. - </p> - <p> - It was only natural that in so peculiar a situation, in which the elements - of power, passion, and pride were so strangely apportioned, there should - have been occasionally something more than mere irritation—a - struggle of angry wills. Victoria, no more than Albert, was in the habit - of playing second fiddle. Her arbitrary temper flashed out. Her vitality, - her obstinacy, her overweening sense of her own position, might well have - beaten down before them his superiorities and his rights. But she fought - at a disadvantage; she was, in very truth, no longer her own mistress; a - profound preoccupation dominated her, seizing upon her inmost purposes for - its own extraordinary ends. She was madly in love. The details of those - curious battles are unknown to us; but Prince Ernest, who remained in - England with his brother for some months, noted them with a friendly and - startled eye. One story, indeed, survives, ill-authenticated and perhaps - mythical, yet summing up, as such stories often do, the central facts of - the case. When, in wrath, the Prince one day had locked himself into his - room, Victoria, no less furious, knocked on the door to be admitted. "Who - is there?" he asked. "The Queen of England" was the answer. He did not - move, and again there was a hail of knocks. The question and the answer - were repeated many times; but at last there was a pause, and then a - gentler knocking. "Who is there?" came once more the relentless question. - But this time the reply was different. "Your wife, Albert." And the door - was immediately opened. - </p> - <p> - Very gradually the Prince's position changed. He began to find the study - of politics less uninteresting than he had supposed; he read Blackstone, - and took lessons in English Law; he was occasionally present when the - Queen interviewed her Ministers; and at Lord Melbourne's suggestion he was - shown all the despatches relating to Foreign Affairs. Sometimes he would - commit his views to paper, and read them aloud to the Prime Minister, who, - infinitely kind and courteous, listened with attention, but seldom made - any reply. An important step was taken when, before the birth of the - Princess Royal, the Prince, without any opposition in Parliament, was - appointed Regent in case of the death of the Queen. Stockmar, owing to - whose intervention with the Tories this happy result had been brought - about, now felt himself at liberty to take a holiday with his family in - Coburg; but his solicitude, poured out in innumerable letters, still - watched over his pupil from afar. "Dear Prince," he wrote, "I am satisfied - with the news you have sent me. Mistakes, misunderstandings, obstructions, - which come in vexatious opposition to one's views, are always to be taken - for just what they are—namely, natural phenomena of life, which - represent one of its sides, and that the shady one. In overcoming them - with dignity, your mind has to exercise, to train, to enlighten itself; - and your character to gain force, endurance, and the necessary hardness." - The Prince had done well so far; but he must continue in the right path; - above all, he was "never to relax." "Never to relax in putting your - magnanimity to the proof; never to relax in logical separation of what is - great and essential from what is trivial and of no moment; never to relax - in keeping yourself up to a high standard—in the determination, - daily renewed, to be consistent, patient, courageous." It was a hard - programme perhaps, for a young man of twenty-one; and yet there was - something in it which touched the very depths of Albert's soul. He sighed, - but he listened—listened as to the voice of a spiritual director - inspired with divine truth. "The stars which are needful to you now," the - voice continued, "and perhaps for some time to come, are Love, Honesty, - Truth. All those whose minds are warped, or who are destitute of true - feeling, will BE APT TO MISTAKE YOU, and to persuade themselves and the - world that you are not the man you are—or, at least, may become... - Do you, therefore, be on the alert be times, with your eyes open in every - direction... I wish for my Prince a great, noble, warm, and true heart, - such as shall serve as the richest and surest basis for the noblest views - of human nature, and the firmest resolve to give them development." - </p> - <p> - Before long, the decisive moment came. There was a General Election, and - it became certain that the Tories, at last, must come into power. The - Queen disliked them as much as ever; but, with a large majority in the - House of Commons, they would now be in a position to insist upon their - wishes being attended to. Lord Melbourne himself was the first to realise - the importance of carrying out the inevitable transition with as little - friction as possible; and with his consent, the Prince, following up the - rapprochement which had begun over the Regency Act, opened, through Anson, - a negotiation with Sir Robert Peel. In a series of secret interviews, a - complete understanding was reached upon the difficult and complex question - of the Bedchamber. It was agreed that the constitutional point should not - be raised, but that on the formation of the Tory Government, the principal - Whig ladies should retire, and their places be filled by others appointed - by Sir Robert. Thus, in effect, though not in form, the Crown abandoned - the claims of 1839, and they have never been subsequently put forward. The - transaction was a turning point in the Prince's career. He had conducted - an important negotiation with skill and tact; he had been brought into - close and friendly relations with the new Prime Minister; it was obvious - that a great political future lay before him. Victoria was much impressed - and deeply grateful. "My dearest Angel," she told King Leopold, "is indeed - a great comfort to me. He takes the greatest interest in what goes on, - feeling with and for me, and yet abstaining as he ought from biasing me - either way, though we talk much on the subject, and his judgment is, as - you say, good and mild." She was in need of all the comfort and assistance - he could give her. Lord M. was going, and she could hardly bring herself - to speak to Peel. Yes; she would discuss everything with Albert now! - </p> - <p> - Stockmar, who had returned to England, watched the departure of Lord - Melbourne with satisfaction. If all went well, the Prince should now wield - a supreme political influence over Victoria. But would all go well?? An - unexpected development put the Baron into a serious fright. When the - dreadful moment finally came, and the Queen, in anguish, bade adieu to her - beloved Minister, it was settled between them that, though it would be - inadvisable to meet very often, they could continue to correspond. Never - were the inconsistencies of Lord Melbourne's character shown more clearly - than in what followed. So long as he was in office, his attitude towards - Peel had been irreproachable; he had done all he could to facilitate the - change of government, he had even, through more than one channel, - transmitted privately to his successful rival advice as to the best means - of winning the Queen's good graces. Yet, no sooner was he in opposition - than his heart failed him. He could not bear the thought of surrendering - altogether the privilege and the pleasure of giving counsel to Victoria—of - being cut off completely from the power and the intimacy which had been - his for so long and in such abundant measure. Though he had declared that - he would be perfectly discreet in his letters, he could not resist taking - advantage of the opening they afforded. He discussed in detail various - public questions, and, in particular, gave the Queen a great deal of - advice in the matter of appointments. This advice was followed. Lord - Melbourne recommended that Lord Heytesbury, who, he said, was an able man, - should be made Ambassador at Vienna; and a week later the Queen wrote to - the Foreign Secretary urging that Lord Heytesbury, whom she believed to be - a very able man, should be employed "on some important mission." Stockmar - was very much alarmed. He wrote a memorandum, pointing out the - unconstitutional nature of Lord Melbourne's proceedings and the unpleasant - position in which the Queen might find herself if they were discovered by - Peel; and he instructed Anson to take this memorandum to the ex-Minister. - Lord Melbourne, lounging on a sofa, read it through with compressed lips. - "This is quite an apple-pie opinion," he said. When Anson ventured to - expostulate further, suggesting that it was unseemly in the leader of the - Opposition to maintain an intimate relationship with the Sovereign, the - old man lost his temper. "God eternally damn it!" he exclaimed, leaping up - from his sofa, and dashing about the room. "Flesh and blood cannot stand - this!" He continued to write to the Queen, as before; and two more violent - bombardments from the Baron were needed before he was brought to reason. - Then, gradually, his letters grew less and less frequent, with fewer and - fewer references to public concerns; at last, they were entirely - innocuous. The Baron smiled; Lord M. had accepted the inevitable. - </p> - <p> - The Whig Ministry resigned in September, 1841; but more than a year was to - elapse before another and an equally momentous change was effected—the - removal of Lehzen. For, in the end, the mysterious governess was - conquered. The steps are unknown by which Victoria was at last led to - accept her withdrawal with composure—perhaps with relief; but it is - clear that Albert's domestic position must have been greatly strengthened - by the appearance of children. The birth of the Princess Royal had been - followed in November, 1841, by that of the Prince of Wales; and before - very long another baby was expected. The Baroness, with all her affection, - could have but a remote share in such family delights. She lost ground - perceptibly. It was noticed as a phenomenon that, once or twice, when the - Court travelled, she was left behind at Windsor. The Prince was very - cautious; at the change of Ministry, Lord Melbourne had advised him to - choose that moment for decisive action; but he judged it wiser to wait. - Time and the pressure of inevitable circumstances were for him; every day - his predominance grew more assured—and every night. At length he - perceived that he need hesitate no longer—that every wish, every - velleity of his had only to be expressed to be at once Victoria's. He - spoke, and Lehzen vanished for ever. No more would she reign in that royal - heart and those royal halls. No more, watching from a window at Windsor, - would she follow her pupil and her sovereign walking on the terrace among - the obsequious multitude, with the eye of triumphant love. Returning to - her native Hanover she established herself at Buckeburg in a small but - comfortable house, the walls of which were entirely covered by portraits - of Her Majesty. The Baron, in spite of his dyspepsia, smiled again: Albert - was supreme. - </p> - <p> - IV - </p> - <p> - The early discords had passed away completely—resolved into the - absolute harmony of married life. Victoria, overcome by a new, an - unimagined revelation, had surrendered her whole soul to her husband. The - beauty and the charm which so suddenly had made her his at first were, she - now saw, no more than but the outward manifestation of the true Albert. - There was an inward beauty, an inward glory which, blind that she was, she - had then but dimly apprehended, but of which now she was aware in every - fibre of her being—he was good—he was great! How could she - ever have dreamt of setting up her will against his wisdom, her ignorance - against his knowledge, her fancies against his perfect taste? Had she - really once loved London and late hours and dissipation? She who now was - only happy in the country, she who jumped out of bed every morning—oh, - so early!—with Albert, to take a walk, before breakfast, with Albert - alone! How wonderful it was to be taught by him! To be told by him which - trees were which; and to learn all about the bees! And then to sit doing - cross-stitch while he read aloud to her Hallam's Constitutional History of - England! Or to listen to him playing on his new organ 'The organ is the - first of instruments,' he said; or to sing to him a song by Mendelssohn, - with a great deal of care over the time and the breathing, and only a very - occasional false note! And, after dinner, to—oh, how good of him! He - had given up his double chess! And so there could be round games at the - round table, or everyone could spend the evening in the most amusing way - imaginable—spinning counters and rings.' When the babies came it was - still more wonderful. Pussy was such a clever little girl ("I am not - Pussy! I am the Princess Royal!" she had angrily exclaimed on one - occasion); and Bertie—well, she could only pray MOST fervently that - the little Prince of Wales would grow up to "resemble his angelic dearest - Father in EVERY, EVERY respect, both in body and mind." Her dear Mamma, - too, had been drawn once more into the family circle, for Albert had - brought about a reconciliation, and the departure of Lehzen had helped to - obliterate the past. In Victoria's eyes, life had become an idyll, and, if - the essential elements of an idyll are happiness, love and simplicity, an - idyll it was; though, indeed, it was of a kind that might have - disconcerted Theocritus. "Albert brought in dearest little Pussy," wrote - Her Majesty in her journal, "in such a smart white merino dress trimmed - with blue, which Mamma had given her, and a pretty cap, and placed her on - my bed, seating himself next to her, and she was very dear and good. And, - as my precious, invaluable Albert sat there, and our little Love between - us, I felt quite moved with happiness and gratitude to God." - </p> - <p> - The past—the past of only three years since—when she looked - back upon it, seemed a thing so remote and alien that she could explain it - to herself in no other way than as some kind of delusion—an - unfortunate mistake. Turning over an old volume of her diary, she came - upon this sentence—"As for 'the confidence of the Crown,' God knows! - No MINISTER, NO FRIEND, EVER possessed it so entirely as this truly - excellent Lord Melbourne possesses mine!" A pang shot through her—she - seized a pen, and wrote upon the margin—"Reading this again, I - cannot forbear remarking what an artificial sort of happiness MINE was - THEN, and what a blessing it is I have now in my beloved Husband REAL and - solid happiness, which no Politics, no worldly reverses CAN change; it - could not have lasted long as it was then, for after all, kind and - excellent as Lord M. is, and kind as he was to me, it was but in Society - that I had amusement, and I was only living on that superficial resource, - which I THEN FANCIED was happiness! Thank God! for ME and others, this is - changed, and I KNOW WHAT REAL HAPPINESS IS—V. R." How did she know? - What is the distinction between happiness that is real and happiness that - is felt? So a philosopher—Lord M. himself perhaps—might have - inquired. But she was no philosopher, and Lord M. was a phantom, and - Albert was beside her, and that was enough. - </p> - <p> - Happy, certainly, she was; and she wanted everyone to know it. Her letters - to King Leopold are sprinkled thick with raptures. "Oh! my dearest uncle, - I am sure if you knew HOW happy, how blessed I feel, and how PROUD I feel - in possessing SUCH a perfect being as my husband..." such ecstasies seemed - to gush from her pen unceasingly and almost of their own accord. When, one - day, without thinking, Lady Lyttelton described someone to her as being - "as happy as a queen," and then grew a little confused, "Don't correct - yourself, Lady Lyttelton," said Her Majesty. "A queen IS a very happy - woman." - </p> - <p> - But this new happiness was no lotus dream. On the contrary, it was - bracing, rather than relaxing. Never before had she felt so acutely the - necessity for doing her duty. She worked more methodically than ever at - the business of State; she watched over her children with untiring - vigilance. She carried on a large correspondence; she was occupied with - her farm—her dairy—a whole multitude of household avocations—from - morning till night. Her active, eager little body hurrying with quick - steps after the long strides of Albert down the corridors and avenues of - Windsor, seemed the very expression of her spirit. Amid all the softness, - the deliciousness of unmixed joy, all the liquescence, the overflowings of - inexhaustible sentiment, her native rigidity remained. "A vein of iron," - said Lady Lyttelton, who, as royal governess, had good means of - observation, "runs through her most extraordinary character." Sometimes - the delightful routine of domestic existence had to be interrupted. It was - necessary to exchange Windsor for Buckingham Palace, to open Parliament, - or to interview official personages, or, occasionally, to entertain - foreign visitors at the Castle. Then the quiet Court put on a sudden - magnificence, and sovereigns from over the seas—Louis Philippe, or - the King of Prussia, or the King of Saxony—found at Windsor an - entertainment that was indeed a royal one. Few spectacles in Europe, it - was agreed, produced an effect so imposing as the great Waterloo - banqueting hall, crowded with guests in sparkling diamonds and blazing - uniforms, the long walls hung with the stately portraits of heroes, and - the tables loaded with the gorgeous gold plate of the kings of England. - But, in that wealth of splendour, the most imposing spectacle of all was - the Queen. The little hausfrau, who had spent the day before walking out - with her children, inspecting her livestock, practicing shakes at the - piano, and filling up her journal with adoring descriptions of her - husband, suddenly shone forth, without art, without effort, by a - spontaneous and natural transition, the very culmination of Majesty. The - Tsar of Russia himself was deeply impressed. Victoria on her side viewed - with secret awe the tremendous Nicholas. "A great event and a great - compliment HIS visit certainly is," she told her uncle, "and the people - HERE are extremely flattered at it. He is certainly a VERY STRIKING man; - still very handsome. His profile is BEAUTIFUL and his manners MOST - dignified and graceful; extremely civil—quite alarmingly so, as he - is so full of attentions and POLITENESS. But the expression of the EYES is - FORMIDABLE and unlike anything I ever saw before." She and Albert and "the - good King of Saxony," who happened to be there at the same time, and whom, - she said, "we like much—he is so unassuming-" drew together like - tame villatic fowl in the presence of that awful eagle. When he was gone, - they compared notes about his face, his unhappiness, and his despotic - power over millions. Well! She for her part could not help pitying him, - and she thanked God she was Queen of England. - </p> - <p> - When the time came for returning some of these visits, the royal pair set - forth in their yacht, much to Victoria's satisfaction. "I do love a ship!" - she exclaimed, ran up and down ladders with the greatest agility, and - cracked jokes with the sailors. The Prince was more aloof. They visited - Louis Philippe at the Chateau d'Eu; they visited King Leopold in Brussels. - It happened that a still more remarkable Englishwoman was in the Belgian - capital, but she was not remarked; and Queen Victoria passed unknowing - before the steady gaze of one of the mistresses in M. Heger's pensionnat. - "A little stout, vivacious lady, very plainly dressed—not much - dignity or pretension about her," was Charlotte Bronte's comment as the - royal carriage and six flashed by her, making her wait on the pavement for - a moment, and interrupting the train of her reflections. Victoria was in - high spirits, and even succeeded in instilling a little cheerfulness into - her uncle's sombre Court. King Leopold, indeed, was perfectly contented. - His dearest hopes had been fulfilled; all his ambitions were satisfied; - and for the rest of his life he had only to enjoy, in undisturbed decorum, - his throne, his respectability, the table of precedence, and the punctual - discharge of his irksome duties. But unfortunately the felicity of those - who surrounded him was less complete. His Court, it was murmured, was as - gloomy as a conventicle, and the most dismal of all the sufferers was his - wife. "Pas de plaisanteries, madame!" he had exclaimed to the unfortunate - successor of the Princess Charlotte, when, in the early days of their - marriage, she had attempted a feeble joke. Did she not understand that the - consort of a constitutional sovereign must not be frivolous? She - understood, at last, only too well; and when the startled walls of the - state apartments re-echoed to the chattering and the laughter of Victoria, - the poor lady found that she had almost forgotten how to smile. - </p> - <p> - Another year, Germany was visited, and Albert displayed the beauties of - his home. When Victoria crossed the frontier, she was much excited—and - she was astonished as well. "To hear the people speak German," she noted - in her diary, "and to see the German soldiers, etc., seemed to me so - singular." Having recovered from this slight shock, she found the country - charming. She was feted everywhere, crowds of the surrounding royalties - swooped down to welcome her, and the prettiest groups of peasant children, - dressed in their best clothes, presented her with bunches of flowers. The - principality of Coburg, with its romantic scenery and its well-behaved - inhabitants, particularly delighted her; and when she woke up one morning - to find herself in "dear Rosenau, my Albert's birthplace," it was "like a - beautiful dream." On her return home, she expatiated, in a letter to King - Leopold, upon the pleasures of the trip, dwelling especially upon the - intensity of her affection for Albert's native land. "I have a feeling," - she said, "for our dear little Germany, which I cannot describe. I felt it - at Rosenau so much. It is a something which touches me, and which goes to - my heart, and makes me inclined to cry. I never felt at any other place - that sort of pensive pleasure and peace which I felt there. I fear I - almost like it too much." - </p> - <p> - V - </p> - <p> - The husband was not so happy as the wife. In spite of the great - improvement in his situation, in spite of a growing family and the - adoration of Victoria, Albert was still a stranger in a strange land, and - the serenity of spiritual satisfaction was denied him. It was something, - no doubt, to have dominated his immediate environment; but it was not - enough; and, besides, in the very completeness of his success, there was a - bitterness. Victoria idolised him; but it was understanding that he craved - for, not idolatry; and how much did Victoria, filled to the brim though - she was with him, understand him? How much does the bucket understand the - well? He was lonely. He went to his organ and improvised with learned - modulations until the sounds, swelling and subsiding through elaborate - cadences, brought some solace to his heart. Then, with the elasticity of - youth, he hurried off to play with the babies, or to design a new pigsty, - or to read aloud the "Church History of Scotland" to Victoria, or to - pirouette before her on one toe, like a ballet-dancer, with a fixed smile, - to show her how she ought to behave when she appeared in public places. - Thus did he amuse himself; but there was one distraction in which he did - not indulge. He never flirted—no, not with the prettiest ladies of - the Court. When, during their engagement, the Queen had remarked with - pride to Lord Melbourne that the Prince paid no attention to any other - woman, the cynic had answered, "No, that sort of thing is apt to come - later;" upon which she had scolded him severely, and then hurried off to - Stockmar to repeat what Lord M. had said. But the Baron had reassured her; - though in other cases, he had replied, that might happen, he did not think - it would in Albert's. And the Baron was right. Throughout their married - life no rival female charms ever had cause to give Victoria one moment's - pang of jealousy. - </p> - <p> - What more and more absorbed him—bringing with it a curious comfort - of its own—was his work. With the advent of Peel, he began to - intervene actively in the affairs of the State. In more ways than one—in - the cast of their intelligence, in their moral earnestness, even in the - uneasy formalism of their manners—the two men resembled each other; - there was a sympathy between them; and thus Peel was ready enough to - listen to the advice of Stockmar, and to urge the Prince forward into - public life. A royal commission was about to be formed to enquire whether - advantage might not be taken of the rebuilding of the Houses of Parliament - to encourage the Fine Arts in the United Kingdom; and Peel, with great - perspicacity, asked the Prince to preside over it. The work was of a kind - which precisely suited Albert: his love of art, his love of method, his - love of coming into contact—close yet dignified—with - distinguished men—it satisfied them all; and he threw himself into - it con amore. Some of the members of the commission were somewhat alarmed - when, in his opening speech, he pointed out the necessity of dividing the - subjects to be considered into "categories-" the word, they thought, - smacked dangerously of German metaphysics; but their confidence returned - when they observed His Royal Highness's extraordinary technical - acquaintance with the processes of fresco painting. When the question - arose as to whether the decorations upon the walls of the new buildings - should, or should not, have a moral purpose, the Prince spoke strongly for - the affirmative. Although many, he observed, would give but a passing - glance to the works, the painter was not therefore to forget that others - might view them with more thoughtful eyes. This argument convinced the - commission, and it was decided that the subjects to be depicted should be - of an improving nature. The frescoes were carried out in accordance with - the commission's instructions, but unfortunately before very long they had - become, even to the most thoughtful eyes, totally invisible. It seems that - His Royal Highness's technical acquaintance with the processes of fresco - painting was incomplete! - </p> - <p> - The next task upon which the Prince embarked was a more arduous one: he - determined to reform the organisation of the royal household. This reform - had been long overdue. For years past the confusion, discomfort, and - extravagance in the royal residences, and in Buckingham Palace - particularly, had been scandalous; no reform had been practicable under - the rule of the Baroness; but her functions had now devolved upon the - Prince, and in 1844, he boldly attacked the problem. Three years earlier, - Stockmar, after careful enquiry, had revealed in an elaborate memorandum - an extraordinary state of affairs. The control of the household, it - appeared, was divided in the strangest manner between a number of - authorities, each independent of the other, each possessed of vague and - fluctuating powers, without responsibility, and without co-ordination. Of - these authorities, the most prominent were the Lord Steward and the Lord - Chamberlain—noblemen of high rank and political importance, who - changed office with every administration, who did not reside with the - Court, and had no effective representatives attached to it. The - distribution of their respective functions was uncertain and peculiar. In - Buckingham Palace, it was believed that the Lord Chamberlain had charge of - the whole of the rooms, with the exception of the kitchen, sculleries, and - pantries, which were claimed by the Lord Steward. At the same time, the - outside of the Palace was under the control of neither of these - functionaries—but of the Office of Woods and Forests; and thus, - while the insides of the windows were cleaned by the Department of the - Lord Chamberlain—or possibly, in certain cases, of the Lord Steward—the - Office of Woods and Forests cleaned their outsides. Of the servants, the - housekeepers, the pages, and the housemaids were under the authority of - the Lord Chamberlain; the clerk of the kitchen, the cooks, and the porters - were under that of the Lord Steward; but the footmen, the livery-porters, - and the under-butlers took their orders from yet another official—the - Master of the Horse. Naturally, in these circumstances the service was - extremely defective and the lack of discipline among the servants - disgraceful. They absented themselves for as long as they pleased and - whenever the fancy took them; "and if," as the Baron put it, "smoking, - drinking, and other irregularities occur in the dormitories, where - footmen, etc., sleep ten and twelve in each room, no one can help it." As - for Her Majesty's guests, there was nobody to show them to their rooms, - and they were often left, having utterly lost their way in the complicated - passages, to wander helpless by the hour. The strange divisions of - authority extended not only to persons but to things. The Queen observed - that there was never a fire in the dining-room. She enquired why. The - answer was "the Lord Steward lays the fire, and the Lord Chamberlain - lights it;" the underlings of those two great noblemen having failed to - come to an accommodation, there was no help for it—the Queen must - eat in the cold. - </p> - <p> - A surprising incident opened everyone's eyes to the confusion and - negligence that reigned in the Palace. A fortnight after the birth of the - Princess Royal the nurse heard a suspicious noise in the room next to the - Queen's bedroom. She called to one of the pages, who, looking under a - large sofa, perceived there a crouching figure "with a most repulsive - appearance." It was "the boy Jones." This enigmatical personage, whose - escapades dominated the newspapers for several ensuing months, and whose - motives and character remained to the end ambiguous, was an undersized lad - of 17, the son of a tailor, who had apparently gained admittance to the - Palace by climbing over the garden wall and walking in through an open - window. Two years before he had paid a similar visit in the guise of a - chimney-sweep. He now declared that he had spent three days in the Palace, - hiding under various beds, that he had "helped himself to soup and other - eatables," and that he had "sat upon the throne, seen the Queen, and heard - the Princess Royal squall." Every detail of the strange affair was eagerly - canvassed. The Times reported that the boy Jones had "from his infancy - been fond of reading," but that "his countenance is exceedingly sullen." - It added: "The sofa under which the boy Jones was discovered, we - understand, is one of the most costly and magnificent material and - workmanship, and ordered expressly for the accommodation of the royal and - illustrious visitors who call to pay their respects to Her Majesty." The - culprit was sent for three months to the "House of Correction." When he - emerged, he immediately returned to Buckingham Palace. He was discovered, - and sent back to the "House of Correction" for another three months, after - which he was offered L4 a week by a music hall to appear upon the stage. - He refused this offer, and shortly afterwards was found by the police - loitering round Buckingham Palace. The authorities acted vigorously, and, - without any trial or process of law, shipped the boy Jones off to sea. A - year later his ship put into Portsmouth to refit, and he at once - disembarked and walked to London. He was re-arrested before he reached the - Palace, and sent back to his ship, the Warspite. On this occasion it was - noticed that he had "much improved in personal appearance and grown quite - corpulent;" and so the boy Jones passed out of history, though we catch - one last glimpse of him in 1844 falling overboard in the night between - Tunis and Algiers. He was fished up again; but it was conjectured—as - one of the Warspite's officers explained in a letter to The Times—that - his fall had not been accidental, but that he had deliberately jumped into - the Mediterranean in order to "see the life-buoy light burning." Of a boy - with such a record, what else could be supposed? - </p> - <p> - But discomfort and alarm were not the only results of the mismanagement of - the household; the waste, extravagance, and peculation that also flowed - from it were immeasurable. There were preposterous perquisites and - malpractices of every kind. It was, for instance, an ancient and immutable - rule that a candle that had once been lighted should never be lighted - again; what happened to the old candles, nobody knew. Again, the Prince, - examining the accounts, was puzzled by a weekly expenditure of thirty-five - shillings on "Red Room Wine." He enquired into the matter, and after great - difficulty discovered that in the time of George III a room in Windsor - Castle with red hangings had once been used as a guard-room, and that five - shillings a day had been allowed to provide wine for the officers. The - guard had long since been moved elsewhere, but the payment for wine in the - Red Room continued, the money being received by a half-pay officer who - held the sinecure position of under-butler. - </p> - <p> - After much laborious investigation, and a stiff struggle with the - multitude of vested interests which had been brought into being by long - years of neglect, the Prince succeeded in effecting a complete reform. The - various conflicting authorities were induced to resign their powers into - the hands of a single official, the Master of the Household, who became - responsible for the entire management of the royal palaces. Great - economies were made, and the whole crowd of venerable abuses was swept - away. Among others, the unlucky half-pay officer of the Red Room was, much - to his surprise, given the choice of relinquishing his weekly emolument or - of performing the duties of an under-butler. Even the irregularities among - the footmen, etc., were greatly diminished. There were outcries and - complaints; the Prince was accused of meddling, of injustice, and of - saving candle-ends; but he held on his course, and before long the - admirable administration of the royal household was recognised as a - convincing proof of his perseverance and capacity. - </p> - <p> - At the same time his activity was increasing enormously in a more - important sphere. He had become the Queen's Private Secretary, her - confidential adviser, her second self. He was now always present at her - interviews with Ministers. He took, like the Queen, a special interest in - foreign policy; but there was no public question in which his influence - was not felt. A double process was at work; while Victoria fell more and - more absolutely under his intellectual predominance, he, simultaneously, - grew more and more completely absorbed by the machinery of high politics—the - incessant and multifarious business of a great State. Nobody any more - could call him a dilettante; he was a worker, a public personage, a man of - affairs. Stockmar noted the change with exultation. "The Prince," he - wrote, "has improved very much lately. He has evidently a head for - politics. He has become, too, far more independent. His mental activity is - constantly on the increase, and he gives the greater part of his time to - business, without complaining." - </p> - <p> - "The relations between husband and wife," added the Baron, "are all one - could desire." - </p> - <p> - Long before Peel's ministry came to an end, there had been a complete - change in Victoria's attitude towards him. His appreciation of the Prince - had softened her heart; the sincerity and warmth of his nature, which, in - private intercourse with those whom he wished to please, had the power of - gradually dissipating the awkwardness of his manners, did the rest. She - came in time to regard him with intense feelings of respect and - attachment. She spoke of "our worthy Peel," for whom, she said, she had - "an EXTREME admiration" and who had shown himself "a man of unbounded - LOYALTY, COURAGE patriotism, and HIGH-MINDEDNESS, and his conduct towards - me has been CHIVALROUS almost, I might say." She dreaded his removal from - office almost as frantically as she had once dreaded that of Lord M. It - would be, she declared, a GREAT CALAMITY. Six years before, what would she - have said, if a prophet had told her that the day would come when she - would be horrified by the triumph of the Whigs? Yet there was no escaping - it; she had to face the return of her old friends. In the ministerial - crises of 1845 and 1846, the Prince played a dominating part. Everybody - recognised that he was the real centre of the negotiations—the - actual controller of the forces and the functions of the Crown. The - process by which this result was reached had been so gradual as to be - almost imperceptible; but it may be said with certainty that, by the close - of Peel's administration, Albert had become, in effect, the King of - England. - </p> - <p> - VI - </p> - <p> - With the final emergence of the Prince came the final extinction of Lord - Melbourne. A year after his loss of office, he had been struck down by a - paralytic seizure; he had apparently recovered, but his old elasticity had - gone for ever. Moody, restless, and unhappy, he wandered like a ghost - about the town, bursting into soliloquies in public places, or asking odd - questions, suddenly, a propos de bottes. "I'll be hanged if I do it for - you, my Lord," he was heard to say in the hall at Brooks's, standing by - himself, and addressing the air after much thought. "Don't you consider," - he abruptly asked a fellow-guest at Lady Holland's, leaning across the - dinner-table in a pause of the conversation, "that it was a most damnable - act of Henri Quatre to change his religion with a view to securing the - Crown?" He sat at home, brooding for hours in miserable solitude. He - turned over his books—his classics and his Testaments—but they - brought him no comfort at all. He longed for the return of the past, for - the impossible, for he knew not what, for the devilries of Caro, for the - happy platitudes of Windsor. His friends had left him, and no wonder, he - said in bitterness—the fire was out. He secretly hoped for a return - to power, scanning the newspapers with solicitude, and occasionally making - a speech in the House of Lords. His correspondence with the Queen - continued, and he appeared from time to time at Court; but he was a mere - simulacrum of his former self; "the dream," wrote Victoria, "is past." As - for his political views, they could no longer be tolerated. The Prince was - an ardent Free Trader, and so, of course, was the Queen; and when, dining - at Windsor at the time of the repeal of the Corn Laws, Lord Melbourne - suddenly exclaimed, "Ma'am, it's a damned dishonest act!" everyone was - extremely embarrassed. Her Majesty laughed and tried to change the - conversation, but without avail; Lord Melbourne returned to the charge - again and again with—"I say, Ma'am, it's damned dishonest!"—until - the Queen said "Lord Melbourne, I must beg you not to say anything more on - this subject now;" and then he held his tongue. She was kind to him, - writing him long letters, and always remembering his birthday; but it was - kindness at a distance, and he knew it. He had become "poor Lord - Melbourne." A profound disquietude devoured him. He tried to fix his mind - on the condition of Agriculture and the Oxford Movement. He wrote long - memoranda in utterly undecipherable handwriting. He was convinced that he - had lost all his money, and could not possibly afford to be a Knight of - the Garter. He had run through everything, and yet—if Peel went out, - he might be sent for—why not? He was never sent for. The Whigs - ignored him in their consultations, and the leadership of the party passed - to Lord John Russell. When Lord John became Prime Minister, there was much - politeness, but Lord Melbourne was not asked to join the Cabinet. He bore - the blow with perfect amenity; but he understood, at last, that that was - the end. - </p> - <p> - For two years more he lingered, sinking slowly into unconsciousness and - imbecility. Sometimes, propped up in his chair, he would be heard to - murmur, with unexpected appositeness, the words of Samson:— - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - "So much I feel my general spirit droop, - My hopes all flat, nature within me seems, - In all her functions weary of herself, - My race of glory run, and race of shame, - And I shall shortly be with them that rest." -</pre> - <p> - A few days before his death, Victoria, learning that there was no hope of - his recovery, turned her mind for a little towards that which had once - been Lord M. "You will grieve to hear," she told King Leopold, "that our - good, dear, old friend Melbourne is dying... One cannot forget how good - and kind and amiable he was, and it brings back so many recollections to - my mind, though, God knows! I never wish that time back again." - </p> - <p> - She was in little danger. The tide of circumstance was flowing now with - irresistible fullness towards a very different consummation. The - seriousness of Albert, the claims of her children, her own inmost - inclinations, and the movement of the whole surrounding world, combined to - urge her forward along the narrow way of public and domestic duty. Her - family steadily increased. Within eighteen months of the birth of the - Prince of Wales the Princess Alice appeared, and a year later the Prince - Alfred, and then the Princess Helena, and, two years afterwards, the - Princess Louise; and still there were signs that the pretty row of royal - infants was not complete. The parents, more and more involved in family - cares and family happiness, found the pomp of Windsor galling, and longed - for some more intimate and remote retreat. On the advice of Peel they - purchased the estate of Osborne, in the Isle of Wight. Their skill and - economy in financial matters had enabled them to lay aside a substantial - sum of money; and they could afford, out of their savings, not merely to - buy the property but to build a new house for themselves and to furnish it - at a cost of L200,000. At Osborne, by the sea-shore, and among the woods, - which Albert, with memories of Rosenau in his mind, had so carefully - planted, the royal family spent every hour that could be snatched from - Windsor and London—delightful hours of deep retirement and peaceful - work. The public looked on with approval. A few aristocrats might sniff or - titter; but with the nation at large the Queen was now once more extremely - popular. The middle-classes, in particular, were pleased. They liked a - love-match; they liked a household which combined the advantages of - royalty and virtue, and in which they seemed to see, reflected as in some - resplendent looking-glass, the ideal image of the very lives they led - themselves. Their own existences, less exalted, but oh! so soothingly - similar, acquired an added excellence, an added succulence, from the early - hours, the regularity, the plain tuckers, the round games, the roast beef - and Yorkshire pudding oft Osborne. It was indeed a model Court. Not only - were its central personages the patterns of propriety, but no breath of - scandal, no shadow of indecorum, might approach its utmost boundaries. For - Victoria, with all the zeal of a convert, upheld now the standard of moral - purity with an inflexibility surpassing, if that were possible, Albert's - own. She blushed to think how she had once believed—how she had once - actually told HIM—that one might be too strict and particular in - such matters, and that one ought to be indulgent towards other people's - dreadful sins. But she was no longer Lord M's pupil: she was Albert's - wife. She was more—the embodiment, the living apex of a new era in - the generations of mankind. The last vestige of the eighteenth century had - disappeared; cynicism and subtlety were shrivelled into powder; and duty, - industry, morality, and domesticity triumphed over them. Even the very - chairs and tables had assumed, with a singular responsiveness, the forms - of prim solidity. The Victorian Age was in full swing. - </p> - <p> - VII - </p> - <p> - Only one thing more was needed: material expression must be given to the - new ideals and the new forces so that they might stand revealed, in - visible glory, before the eyes of an astonished world. It was for Albert - to supply this want. He mused, and was inspired: the Great Exhibition came - into his head. - </p> - <p> - Without consulting anyone, he thought out the details of his conception - with the minutest care. There had been exhibitions before in the world, - but this should surpass them all. It should contain specimens of what - every country could produce in raw materials, in machinery and mechanical - inventions, in manufactures, and in the applied and plastic arts. It - should not be merely useful and ornamental; it should teach a high moral - lesson. It should be an international monument to those supreme blessings - of civilisation—peace, progress, and prosperity. For some time past - the Prince had been devoting much of his attention to the problems of - commerce and industry. He had a taste for machinery of every kind, and his - sharp eye had more than once detected, with the precision of an expert, a - missing cog-wheel in some vast and complicated engine. A visit to - Liverpool, where he opened the Albert Dock, impressed upon his mind the - immensity of modern industrial forces, though in a letter to Victoria - describing his experiences, he was careful to retain his customary - lightness of touch. "As I write," he playfully remarked, "you will be - making your evening toilette, and not be ready in time for dinner. I must - set about the same task, and not, let me hope, with the same result... The - loyalty and enthusiasm of the inhabitants are great; but the heat is - greater still. I am satisfied that if the population of Liverpool had been - weighed this morning, and were to be weighed again now, they would be - found many degrees lighter. The docks are wonderful, and the mass of - shipping incredible." In art and science he had been deeply interested - since boyhood; his reform of the household had put his talent for - organisation beyond a doubt; and thus from every point of view the Prince - was well qualified for his task. Having matured his plans, he summoned a - small committee and laid an outline of his scheme before it. The committee - approved, and the great undertaking was set on foot without delay. - </p> - <p> - Two years, however, passed before it was completed. For two years the - Prince laboured with extraordinary and incessant energy. At first all went - smoothly. The leading manufacturers warmly took up the idea; the colonies - and the East India Company were sympathetic; the great foreign nations - were eager to send in their contributions; the powerful support of Sir - Robert Peel was obtained, and the use of a site in Hyde Park, selected by - the Prince, was sanctioned by the Government. Out of 234 plans for the - exhibition building, the Prince chose that of Joseph Paxton, famous as a - designer of gigantic conservatories; and the work was on the point of - being put in hand when a series of unexpected difficulties arose. - Opposition to the whole scheme, which had long been smouldering in various - quarters, suddenly burst forth. There was an outcry, headed by The Times, - against the use of the park for the exhibition; for a moment it seemed as - if the building would be relegated to a suburb; but, after a fierce debate - in the House, the supporters of the site in the Park won the day. Then it - appeared that the project lacked a sufficient financial backing; but this - obstacle, too, was surmounted, and eventually L200,000 was subscribed as a - guarantee fund. The enormous glass edifice rose higher and higher, - covering acres and enclosing towering elm trees beneath its roof: and then - the fury of its enemies reached a climax. The fashionable, the cautious, - the Protectionists, the pious, all joined in the hue and cry. It was - pointed out that the Exhibition would serve as a rallying point for all - the ruffians in England, for all the malcontents in Europe; and that on - the day of its opening there would certainly be a riot and probably a - revolution. It was asserted that the glass roof was porous, and that the - droppings of fifty million sparrows would utterly destroy every object - beneath it. Agitated nonconformists declared that the Exhibition was an - arrogant and wicked enterprise which would infallibly bring down God's - punishment upon the nation. Colonel Sibthorpe, in the debate on the - Address, prayed that hail and lightning might descend from heaven on the - accursed thing. The Prince, with unyielding perseverance and infinite - patience, pressed on to his goal. His health was seriously affected; he - suffered from constant sleeplessness; his strength was almost worn out. - But he remembered the injunctions of Stockmar and never relaxed. The - volume of his labours grew more prodigious every day; he toiled at - committees, presided over public meetings, made speeches, and carried on - communications with every corner of the civilised world—and his - efforts were rewarded. On May 1, 1851, the Great Exhibition was opened by - the Queen before an enormous concourse of persons, amid scenes of dazzling - brilliancy and triumphant enthusiasm. - </p> - <p> - Victoria herself was in a state of excitement which bordered on delirium. - She performed her duties in a trance of joy, gratitude, and amazement, - and, when it was all over, her feelings poured themselves out into her - journal in a torrential flood. The day had been nothing but an endless - succession of glories—or rather one vast glory—one vast - radiation of Albert. Everything she had seen, everything she had felt or - heard, had been so beautiful, so wonderful that even the royal - underlinings broke down under the burden of emphasis, while her - remembering pen rushed on, regardless, from splendour to splendour—the - huge crowds, so well—behaved and loyal-flags of all the nations - floating—the inside of the building, so immense, with myriads of - people and the sun shining through the roof—a little side room, - where we left our shawls—palm-trees and machinery—dear Albert—the - place so big that we could hardly hear the organ—thankfulness to God—a - curious assemblage of political and distinguished men—the March from - Athalie—God bless my dearest Albert, God bless my dearest country!—a - glass fountain—the Duke and Lord Anglesey walking arm in arm—a - beautiful Amazon, in bronze, by Kiss—Mr. Paxton, who might be justly - proud, and rose from being a common gardener's boy—Sir George Grey - in tears, and everybody astonished and delighted. - </p> - <p> - A striking incident occurred when, after a short prayer by the Archbishop - of Canterbury, the choir of 600 voices burst into the "Hallelujah Chorus." - At that moment a Chinaman, dressed in full national costume, stepped out - into the middle of the central nave, and, advancing slowly towards the - royal group, did obeisance to Her Majesty. The Queen, much impressed, had - no doubt that he was an eminent mandarin; and, when the final procession - was formed, orders were given that, as no representative of the Celestial - Empire was present, he should be included in the diplomatic cortege. He - accordingly, with the utmost gravity, followed immediately behind the - Ambassadors. He subsequently disappeared, and it was rumoured, among - ill-natured people, that, far from being a mandarin, the fellow was a mere - impostor. But nobody ever really discovered the nature of the comments - that had been lurking behind the matchless impassivity of that yellow - face. - </p> - <p> - A few days later Victoria poured out her heart to her uncle. The first of - May, she said, was "the GREATEST day in our history, the most BEAUTIFUL - and IMPOSING and TOUCHING spectacle ever seen, and the triumph of my - beloved Albert... It was the HAPPIEST, PROUDEST day in my life, and I can - think of nothing else. Albert's dearest name is immortalised with this - GREAT conception, HIS own, and my OWN dear country SHOWED she was WORTHY - of it. The triumph is IMMENSE." - </p> - <p> - It was. The enthusiasm was universal; even the bitterest scoffers were - converted, and joined in the chorus of praise. Congratulations from public - bodies poured in; the City of Paris gave a great fete to the Exhibition - committee; and the Queen and the Prince made a triumphal progress through - the North of England. The financial results were equally remarkable. The - total profit made by the Exhibition amounted to a sum of L165,000, which - was employed in the purchase of land for the erection of a permanent - National Museum in South Kensington. During the six months of its - existence in Hyde Park over six million persons visited it, and not a - single accident occurred. But there is an end to all things; and the time - had come for the Crystal Palace to be removed to the salubrious seclusion - of Sydenham. Victoria, sad but resigned, paid her final visit. "It looked - so beautiful," she said. "I could not believe it was the last time I was - to see it. An organ, accompanied by a fine and powerful wind instrument - called the sommerophone, was being played, and it nearly upset me. The - canvas is very dirty, the red curtains are faded and many things are very - much soiled, still the effect is fresh and new as ever and most beautiful. - The glass fountain was already removed... and the sappers and miners were - rolling about the little boxes just as they did at the beginning. It made - us all very melancholy." But more cheerful thoughts followed. When all was - over, she expressed her boundless satisfaction in a dithyrambic letter to - the Prime Minister. Her beloved husband's name, she said, was for ever - immortalised, and that this was universally recognised by the country was - a source to her of immense happiness and gratitude. "She feels grateful to - Providence," Her Majesty concluded, "to have permitted her to be united to - so great, so noble, so excellent a Prince, and this year will ever remain - the proudest and happiest of her life. The day of the closing of the - Exhibition (which the Queen regretted much she could not witness), was the - twelfth anniversary of her betrothal to the Prince, which is a curious - coincidence." - </p> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER V. LORD PALMERSTON - </h2> - <h3> - I - </h3> - <p> - In 1851 the Prince's fortunes reached their high-water mark. The success - of the Great Exhibition enormously increased his reputation and seemed to - assure him henceforward a leading place in the national life. But before - the year was out another triumph, in a very different sphere of action, - was also his. This triumph, big with fateful consequences, was itself the - outcome of a series of complicated circumstances which had been gathering - to a climax for many years. - </p> - <p> - The unpopularity of Albert in high society had not diminished with time. - Aristocratic persons continued to regard him with disfavour; and he on his - side, withdrew further and further into a contemptuous reserve. For a - moment, indeed, it appeared as if the dislike of the upper classes was - about to be suddenly converted into cordiality; for they learnt with - amazement that the Prince, during a country visit, had ridden to hounds - and acquitted himself remarkably well. They had always taken it for - granted that his horsemanship was of some second-rate foreign quality, and - here he was jumping five-barred gates and tearing after the fox as if he - had been born and bred in Leicestershire. They could hardly believe it; - was it possible that they had made a mistake, and that Albert was a good - fellow after all? Had he wished to be thought so he would certainly have - seized this opportunity, purchased several hunters, and used them - constantly. But he had no such desire; hunting bored him, and made - Victoria nervous. He continued, as before, to ride, as he himself put it, - for exercise or convenience, not for amusement; and it was agreed that - though the Prince, no doubt, could keep in his saddle well enough, he was - no sportsman. - </p> - <p> - This was a serious matter. It was not merely that Albert was laughed at by - fine ladies and sneered at by fine gentlemen; it was not merely that - Victoria, who before her marriage had cut some figure in society, had, - under her husband's influence, almost completely given it up. Since - Charles the Second the sovereigns of England had, with a single exception, - always been unfashionable; and the fact that the exception was George the - Fourth seemed to give an added significance to the rule. What was grave - was not the lack of fashion, but the lack of other and more important - qualities. The hostility of the upper classes was symptomatic of an - antagonism more profound than one of manners or even of tastes. The - Prince, in a word, was un-English. What that word precisely meant it was - difficult to say; but the fact was patent to every eye. Lord Palmerston, - also, was not fashionable; the great Whig aristocrats looked askance at - him, and only tolerated him as an unpleasant necessity thrust upon them by - fate. But Lord Palmerston was English through and through, there was - something in him that expressed, with extraordinary vigour, the - fundamental qualities of the English race. And he was the very antithesis - of the Prince. By a curious chance it so happened that this typical - Englishman was brought into closer contact than any other of his - countrymen with the alien from over the sea. It thus fell out that - differences which, in more fortunate circumstances, might have been - smoothed away and obliterated, became accentuated to the highest pitch. - All the mysterious forces in Albert's soul leapt out to do battle with his - adversary, and, in the long and violent conflict that followed, it almost - seemed as if he was struggling with England herself. - </p> - <p> - Palmerston's whole life had been spent in the government of the country. - At twenty-two he had been a Minister; at twenty-five he had been offered - the Chancellorship of the Exchequer, which, with that prudence which - formed so unexpected a part of his character, he had declined to accept. - His first spell of office had lasted uninterruptedly for twenty-one years. - When Lord Grey came into power he received the Foreign Secretaryship, a - post which he continued to occupy, with two intervals, for another - twenty-one years. Throughout this period his reputation with the public - had steadily grown, and when, in 1846, he became Foreign Secretary for the - third time, his position in the country was almost, if not quite, on an - equality with that of the Prime Minister, Lord John Russell. He was a - tall, big man of sixty-two, with a jaunty air, a large face, dyed - whiskers, and a long sardonic upper lip. His private life was far from - respectable, but he had greatly strengthened his position in society by - marrying, late in life, Lady Cowper, the sister of Lord Melbourne, and one - of the most influential of the Whig hostesses. Powerful, experienced, and - supremely self-confident, he naturally paid very little attention to - Albert. Why should he? The Prince was interested in foreign affairs? Very - well, then; let the Prince pay attention to him—to him, who had been - a Cabinet Minister when Albert was in the cradle, who was the chosen - leader of a great nation, and who had never failed in anything he had - undertaken in the whole course of his life. Not that he wanted the - Prince's attention—far from it: so far as he could see, Albert was - merely a young foreigner, who suffered from having no vices, and whose - only claim to distinction was that he had happened to marry the Queen of - England. This estimate, as he found out to his cost, was a mistaken one. - Albert was by no means insignificant, and, behind Albert, there was - another figure by no means insignificant either—there was Stockmar. - </p> - <p> - But Palmerston, busy with his plans, his ambitions, and the management of - a great department, brushed all such considerations on one side; it was - his favourite method of action. He lived by instinct—by a quick eye - and a strong hand, a dexterous management of every crisis as it arose, a - half-unconscious sense of the vital elements in a situation. He was very - bold; and nothing gave him more exhilaration than to steer the ship of - state in a high wind, on a rough sea, with every stitch of canvas on her - that she could carry. But there is a point beyond which boldness becomes - rashness—a point perceptible only to intuition and not to reason; - and beyond that point Palmerston never went. When he saw that the cast - demanded it, he could go slow—very slow indeed in fact, his whole - career, so full of vigorous adventure, was nevertheless a masterly example - of the proverb, "tout vient a point a qui sait attendre." But when he - decided to go quick, nobody went quicker. One day, returning from Osborne, - he found that he had missed the train to London; he ordered a special, but - the station master told him that to put a special train upon the line at - that time of day would be dangerous and he could not allow it. Palmerston - insisted declaring that he had important business in London, which could - not wait. The station-master supported by all the officials, continued to - demur the company, he said, could not possibly take the responsibility. - "On MY responsibility, then!" said Palmerston, in his off-hand, peremptory - way whereupon the station-master ordered up the train and the Foreign - Secretary reached London in time for his work, without an accident. The - story, is typical of the happy valiance with which he conducted both his - own affairs and those of the nation. "England," he used to say, "is strong - enough to brave consequences." Apparently, under Palmerston's guidance, - she was. While the officials protested and shook in their shoes, he would - wave them away with his airy "MY responsibility!" and carry the country - swiftly along the line of his choice, to a triumphant destination—without - an accident. His immense popularity was the result partly of his - diplomatic successes, partly of his extraordinary personal affability, but - chiefly of the genuine intensity with which he responded to the feelings - and supported the interests of his countrymen. The public knew that it had - in Lord Palmerston not only a high-mettled master, but also a devoted - servant—that he was, in every sense of the word, a public man. When - he was Prime Minister, he noticed that iron hurdles had been put up on the - grass in the Green Park; he immediately wrote to the Minister responsible, - ordering, in the severest language, their instant removal, declaring that - they were "an intolerable nuisance," and that the purpose of the grass was - "to be walked upon freely and without restraint by the people, old and - young, for whose enjoyment the parks are maintained." It was in this - spirit that, as Foreign Secretary, he watched over the interests of - Englishmen abroad. Nothing could be more agreeable for Englishmen; but - foreign governments were less pleased. They found Lord Palmerston - interfering, exasperating, and alarming. In Paris they spoke with bated - breath of "ce terrible milord Palmerston;" and in Germany they made a - little song about him— - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - "Hat der Teufel einen Sohn, - So ist er sicher Palmerston." -</pre> - <p> - But their complaints, their threats, and their agitations were all in - vain. Palmerston, with his upper lip sardonically curving, braved - consequences, and held on his course. - </p> - <p> - The first diplomatic crisis which arose after his return to office, though - the Prince and the Queen were closely concerned with it, passed off - without serious disagreement between the Court and the Minister. For some - years past a curious problem had been perplexing the chanceries of Europe. - Spain, ever since the time of Napoleon a prey to civil convulsions, had - settled down for a short interval to a state of comparative quiet under - the rule of Christina, the Queen Mother, and her daughter Isabella, the - young Queen. In 1846, the question of Isabella's marriage, which had for - long been the subject of diplomatic speculations, suddenly became acute. - Various candidates for her hand were proposed—among others, two - cousins of her own, another Spanish prince, and Prince Leopold of - Saxe-Coburg, a first cousin of Victoria's and Albert's; for different - reasons, however, none of these young men seemed altogether satisfactory. - Isabella was not yet sixteen; and it might have been supposed that her - marriage could be put off for a few years more; but this was considered to - be out of the question. "Vous ne savez pas," said a high authority, "ce - que c'est que ces princesses espagnoles; elles ont le diable au corps, et - on a toujours dit que si nous ne nous hations pas, l'heritier viendrait - avant le mari." It might also have been supposed that the young Queen's - marriage was a matter to be settled by herself, her mother, and the - Spanish Government; but this again was far from being the case. It had - become, by one of those periodical reversions to the ways of the - eighteenth century, which, it is rumoured, are still not unknown in - diplomacy, a question of dominating importance in the foreign policies - both of France and England. For several years, Louis Philippe and his - Prime Minister Guizot had been privately maturing a very subtle plan. It - was the object of the French King to repeat the glorious coup of Louis - XIV, and to abolish the Pyrenees by placing one of his grandsons on the - throne of Spain. In order to bring this about, he did not venture to - suggest that his younger son, the Duc de Montpensier, should marry - Isabella; that would have been too obvious a move, which would have raised - immediate and insurmountable opposition. He therefore proposed that - Isabella should marry her cousin, the Duke of Cadiz, while Montpensier - married Isabella's younger sister, the Infanta Fernanda; and pray, what - possible objection could there be to that? The wily old King whispered - into the chaste ears of Guizot the key to the secret; he had good reason - to believe that the Duke of Cadiz was incapable of having children, and - therefore the offspring of Fernanda would inherit the Spanish crown. - Guizot rubbed his hands, and began at once to set the necessary springs in - motion; but, of course, the whole scheme was very soon divulged and - understood. The English Government took an extremely serious view of the - matter; the balance of power was clearly at stake, and the French intrigue - must be frustrated at all hazards. A diplomatic struggle of great - intensity followed; and it occasionally appeared that a second War of the - Spanish Succession was about to break out. This was avoided, but the - consequences of this strange imbroglio were far-reaching and completely - different from what any of the parties concerned could have guessed. - </p> - <p> - In the course of the long and intricate negotiations there was one point - upon which Louis Philippe laid a special stress—the candidature of - Prince Leopold of Saxe-Coburg. The prospect of a marriage between a Coburg - Prince and the Queen of Spain was, he declared, at least as threatening to - the balance of power in Europe as that of a marriage between the Duc de - Montpensier and the Infanta; and, indeed, there was much to be said for - this contention. The ruin which had fallen upon the House of Coburg during - the Napoleonic wars had apparently only served to multiply its vitality, - for that princely family had by now extended itself over Europe in an - extraordinary manner. King Leopold was firmly fixed in Belgium; his niece - was Queen of England; one of his nephews was the husband of the Queen of - England, and another the husband of the Queen of Portugal; yet another was - Duke of Wurtemberg. Where was this to end? There seemed to be a Coburg - Trust ready to send out one of its members at any moment to fill up any - vacant place among the ruling families of Europe. And even beyond Europe - there were signs of this infection spreading. An American who had arrived - in Brussels had assured King Leopold that there was a strong feeling in - the United States in favour of monarchy instead of the misrule of mobs, - and had suggested, to the delight of His Majesty, that some branch of the - Coburg family might be available for the position. That danger might, - perhaps, be remote; but the Spanish danger was close at hand; and if - Prince Leopold were to marry Queen Isabella the position of France would - be one of humiliation, if not of positive danger. Such were the - asseverations of Louis Philippe. The English Government had no wish to - support Prince Leopold, and though Albert and Victoria had some hankerings - for the match, the wisdom of Stockmar had induced them to give up all - thoughts of it. The way thus seemed open for a settlement: England would - be reasonable about Leopold, if France would be reasonable about - Montpensier. At the Chateau d'Eu, the agreement was made, in a series of - conversations between the King and Guizot on the one side, and the Queen, - the Prince, and Lord Aberdeen on the other. Aberdeen, as Foreign Minister, - declared that England would neither recognise nor support Prince Leopold - as a candidate for the hand of the Queen of Spain; while Louis Philippe - solemnly promised, both to Aberdeen and to Victoria, that the Duc de - Montpensier should not marry the Infanta Fernanda until after the Queen - was married and had issue. All went well, and the crisis seemed to be - over, when the whole question was suddenly re-opened by Palmerston, who - had succeeded Aberdeen at the Foreign Office. In a despatch to the English - Minister at Madrid, he mentioned, in a list of possible candidates for - Queen Isabella's hand, Prince Leopold of Coburg; and at the same time he - took occasion to denounce in violent language the tyranny and incompetence - of the Spanish Government. This despatch, indiscreet in any case, was - rendered infinitely more so by being communicated to Guizot. Louis - Philippe saw his opportunity and pounced on it. Though there was nothing - in Palmerston's language to show that he either recognised or supported - Prince Leopold, the King at once assumed that the English had broken their - engagement, and that he was therefore free to do likewise. He then sent - the despatch to the Queen Mother, declared that the English were - intriguing for the Coburg marriage, bade her mark the animosity of - Palmerston against the Spanish Government, and urged her to escape from - her difficulties and ensure the friendship of France by marrying Isabella - to the Duke of Cadiz and Fernanda to Montpensier. The Queen Mother, - alarmed and furious, was easily convinced. There was only one difficulty: - Isabella loathed the very sight of her cousin. But this was soon - surmounted; there was a wild supper-party at the Palace, and in the course - of it the young girl was induced to consent to anything that was asked of - her. Shortly after, and on the same day, both the marriages took place. - </p> - <p> - The news burst like a bomb on the English Government, who saw with rage - and mortification that they had been completely outmanoeuvred by the - crafty King. Victoria, in particular, was outraged. Not only had she been - the personal recipient of Louis Philippe's pledge, but he had won his way - to her heart by presenting the Prince of Wales with a box of soldiers and - sending the Princess Royal a beautiful Parisian doll with eyes that opened - and shut. And now insult was added to injury. The Queen of the French - wrote her a formal letter, calmly announcing, as a family event in which - she was sure Victoria would be interested, the marriage of her son, - Montpensier—"qui ajoutera a notre bonheur interieur, le seul vrai - dans ce monde, et que vous, madame, savez si bien apprecier." But the - English Queen had not long to wait for her revenge. Within eighteen months - the monarchy of Louis Philippe, discredited, unpopular, and fatally - weakened by the withdrawal of English support, was swept into limbo, while - he and his family threw themselves as suppliant fugitives at the feet of - Victoria. - </p> - <p> - II - </p> - <p> - In this affair both the Queen and the Prince had been too much occupied - with the delinquencies of Louis Philippe to have any wrath to spare for - those of Palmerston; and, indeed, on the main issue, Palmerston's attitude - and their own had been in complete agreement. But in this the case was - unique. In every other foreign complication—and they were many and - serious—during the ensuing years, the differences between the royal - couple and the Foreign Secretary were constant and profound. There was a - sharp quarrel over Portugal, where violently hostile parties were flying - at each other's throats. The royal sympathy was naturally enlisted on - behalf of the Queen and her Coburg husband, while Palmerston gave his - support to the progressive elements in the country. It was not until 1848, - however, that the strain became really serious. In that year of - revolutions, when, in all directions and with alarming frequency, crowns - kept rolling off royal heads, Albert and Victoria were appalled to find - that the policy of England was persistently directed—in Germany, in - Switzerland, in Austria, in Italy, in Sicily—so as to favour the - insurgent forces. The situation, indeed, was just such a one as the soul - of Palmerston loved. There was danger and excitement, the necessity of - decision, the opportunity for action, on every hand. A disciple of - Canning, with an English gentleman's contempt and dislike of foreign - potentates deep in his heart, the spectacle of the popular uprisings, and - of the oppressors bundled ignominiously out of the palaces they had - disgraced, gave him unbounded pleasure, and he was determined that there - should be no doubt whatever, all over the Continent, on which side in the - great struggle England stood. It was not that he had the slightest - tincture in him of philosophical radicalism; he had no philosophical - tinctures of any kind; he was quite content to be inconsistent—to be - a Conservative at home and a Liberal abroad. There were very good reasons - for keeping the Irish in their places; but what had that to do with it? - The point was this—when any decent man read an account of the - political prisons in Naples his gorge rose. He did not want war; but he - saw that without war a skilful and determined use of England's power might - do much to further the cause of the Liberals in Europe. It was a difficult - and a hazardous game to play, but he set about playing it with delighted - alacrity. And then, to his intense annoyance, just as he needed all his - nerve and all possible freedom of action, he found himself being hampered - and distracted at every turn by... those people at Osborne. He saw what it - was; the opposition was systematic and informed, and the Queen alone would - have been incapable of it; the Prince was at the bottom of the whole - thing. It was exceedingly vexatious; but Palmerston was in a hurry, and - could not wait; the Prince, if he would insist upon interfering, must be - brushed on one side. - </p> - <p> - Albert was very angry. He highly disapproved both of Palmerston's policy - and of his methods of action. He was opposed to absolutism; but in his - opinion Palmerston's proceedings were simply calculated to substitute for - absolutism, all over Europe, something no better and very possibly worse—the - anarchy of faction and mob violence. The dangers of this revolutionary - ferment were grave; even in England Chartism was rampant—a sinister - movement, which might at any moment upset the Constitution and abolish the - Monarchy. Surely, with such dangers at home, this was a very bad time to - choose for encouraging lawlessness abroad. He naturally took a particular - interest in Germany. His instincts, his affections, his prepossessions, - were ineradicably German; Stockmar was deeply involved in German politics; - and he had a multitude of relatives among the ruling German families, who, - from the midst of the hurly-burly of revolution, wrote him long and - agitated letters once a week. Having considered the question of Germany's - future from every point of view, he came to the conclusion, under - Stockmar's guidance, that the great aim for every lover of Germany should - be her unification under the sovereignty of Prussia. The intricacy of the - situation was extreme, and the possibilities of good or evil which every - hour might bring forth were incalculable; yet he saw with horror that - Palmerston neither understood nor cared to understand the niceties of this - momentous problem, but rushed on blindly, dealing blows to right and left, - quite—so far as he could see—without system, and even without - motive—except, indeed, a totally unreasonable distrust of the - Prussian State. - </p> - <p> - But his disagreement with the details of Palmerston's policy was in - reality merely a symptom of the fundamental differences between the - characters of the two men. In Albert's eyes Palmerston was a coarse, - reckless egotist, whose combined arrogance and ignorance must inevitably - have their issue in folly and disaster. Nothing could be more antipathetic - to him than a mind so strangely lacking in patience, in reflection, in - principle, and in the habits of ratiocination. For to him it was - intolerable to think in a hurry, to jump to slapdash decisions, to act on - instincts that could not be explained. Everything must be done in due - order, with careful premeditation; the premises of the position must first - be firmly established; and he must reach the correct conclusion by a - regular series of rational steps. In complicated questions—and what - questions, rightly looked at, were not complicated?—to commit one's - thoughts to paper was the wisest course, and it was the course which - Albert, laborious though it might be, invariably adopted. It was as well, - too, to draw up a reasoned statement after an event, as well as before it; - and accordingly, whatever happened, it was always found that the Prince - had made a memorandum. On one occasion he reduced to six pages of foolscap - the substance of a confidential conversation with Sir Robert Peel, and, - having read them aloud to him, asked him to append his signature; Sir - Robert, who never liked to commit himself, became extremely uneasy; upon - which the Prince, understanding that it was necessary to humour the - singular susceptibilities of Englishmen, with great tact dropped that - particular memorandum into the fire. But as for Palmerston, he never even - gave one so much as a chance to read him a memorandum, he positively - seemed to dislike discussion; and, before one knew where one was, without - any warning whatever, he would plunge into some hare-brained, violent - project, which, as likely as not, would logically involve a European war. - Closely connected, too, with this cautious, painstaking reasonableness of - Albert's, was his desire to examine questions thoroughly from every point - of view, to go down to the roots of things, and to act in strict - accordance with some well-defined principle. Under Stockmar's tutelage he - was constantly engaged in enlarging his outlook and in endeavouring to - envisage vital problems both theoretically and practically—both with - precision and with depth. To one whose mind was thus habitually occupied, - the empirical activities of Palmerston, who had no notion what a principle - meant, resembled the incoherent vagaries of a tiresome child. What did - Palmerston know of economics, of science, of history? What did he care for - morality and education? How much consideration had he devoted in the whole - course of his life to the improvement of the condition of the - working-classes and to the general amelioration of the human race? The - answers to such questions were all too obvious; and yet it is easy to - imagine, also, what might have been Palmerston's jaunty comment. "Ah! your - Royal Highness is busy with fine schemes and beneficent calculations - exactly! Well, as for me, I must say I'm quite satisfied with my morning's - work—I've had the iron hurdles taken out of the Green Park." - </p> - <p> - The exasperating man, however, preferred to make no comment, and to - proceed in smiling silence on his inexcusable way. The process of - "brushing on one side" very soon came into operation. Important Foreign - Office despatches were either submitted to the Queen so late that there - was no time to correct them, or they were not submitted to her at all; or, - having been submitted, and some passage in them being objected to and an - alteration suggested, they were after all sent off in their original form. - The Queen complained, the Prince complained: both complained together. It - was quite useless. Palmerston was most apologetic—could not - understand how it had occurred—must give the clerks a wigging—certainly - Her Majesty's wishes should be attended to, and such a thing should never - happen again. But, of course, it very soon happened again, and the royal - remonstrances redoubled. Victoria, her partisan passions thoroughly - aroused, imported into her protests a personal vehemence which those of - Albert lacked. Did Lord Palmerston forget that she was Queen of England? - How could she tolerate a state of affairs in which despatches written in - her name were sent abroad without her approval or even her knowledge? What - could be more derogatory to her position than to be obliged to receive - indignant letters from the crowned heads to whom those despatches were - addressed—letters which she did not know how to answer, since she so - thoroughly agreed with them? She addressed herself to the Prime Minister. - "No remonstrance has any effect with Lord Palmerston," she said. "Lord - Palmerston," she told him on another occasion, "has as usual pretended not - to have had time to submit the draft to the Queen before he had sent it - off." She summoned Lord John to her presence, poured out her indignation, - and afterwards, on the advice of Albert, noted down what had passed in a - memorandum: "I said that I thought that Lord Palmerston often endangered - the honour of England by taking a very prejudiced and one-sided view of a - question; that his writings were always as bitter as gall and did great - harm, which Lord John entirely assented to, and that I often felt quite - ill from anxiety." Then she turned to her uncle. "The state of Germany," - she wrote in a comprehensive and despairing review of the European - situation, "is dreadful, and one does feel quite ashamed about that once - really so peaceful and happy country. That there are still good people - there I am sure, but they allow themselves to be worked upon in a - frightful and shameful way. In France a crisis seems at hand. WHAT a very - bad figure we cut in this mediation! Really it is quite immoral, with - Ireland quivering in our grasp and ready to throw off her allegiance at - any moment, for us to force Austria to give up her lawful possessions. - What shall we say if Canada, Malta, etc., begin to trouble us? It hurts me - terribly." But what did Lord Palmerston care? - </p> - <p> - Lord John's position grew more and more irksome. He did not approve of his - colleague's treatment of the Queen. When he begged him to be more careful, - he was met with the reply that 28,000 despatches passed through the - Foreign Office in a single year, that, if every one of these were to be - subjected to the royal criticism, the delay would be most serious, that, - as it was, the waste of time and the worry involved in submitting drafts - to the meticulous examination of Prince Albert was almost too much for an - overworked Minister, and that, as a matter of fact, the postponement of - important decisions owing to this cause had already produced very - unpleasant diplomatic consequences. These excuses would have impressed - Lord John more favourably if he had not himself had to suffer from a - similar neglect. As often as not Palmerston failed to communicate even to - him the most important despatches. The Foreign Secretary was becoming an - almost independent power, acting on his own initiative, and swaying the - policy of England on his own responsibility. On one occasion, in 1847, he - had actually been upon the point of threatening to break off diplomatic - relations with France without consulting either the Cabinet or the Prime - Minister. And such incidents were constantly recurring. When this became - known to the Prince, he saw that his opportunity had come. If he could - only drive in to the utmost the wedge between the two statesmen, if he - could only secure the alliance of Lord John, then the suppression or the - removal of Lord Palmerston would be almost certain to follow. He set about - the business with all the pertinacity of his nature. Both he and the Queen - put every kind of pressure upon the Prime Minister. They wrote, they - harangued, they relapsed into awful silence. It occurred to them that Lord - Clarendon, an important member of the Cabinet, would be a useful channel - for their griefs. They commanded him to dine at the Palace, and, directly - the meal was over, "the Queen," as he described it afterwards, "exploded, - and went with the utmost vehemence and bitterness into the whole of - Palmerston's conduct, all the effects produced all over the world, and all - her own feelings and sentiments about it." When she had finished, the - Prince took up the tale, with less excitement, but with equal force. Lord - Clarendon found himself in an awkward situation; he disliked Palmerston's - policy, but he was his colleague, and he disapproved of the attitude of - his royal hosts. In his opinion, they were "wrong in wishing that - courtiers rather than Ministers should conduct the affairs of the - country," and he thought that they "laboured under the curious mistake - that the Foreign Office was their peculiar department, and that they had - the right to control, if not to direct, the foreign policy of England." - He, therefore, with extreme politeness, gave it to be understood that he - would not commit himself in any way. But Lord John, in reality, needed no - pressure. Attacked by his Sovereign, ignored by his Foreign Secretary, he - led a miserable life. With the advent of the dreadful Schleswig-Holstein - question—the most complex in the whole diplomatic history of Europe—his - position, crushed between the upper and the nether mill-stones, grew - positively unbearable. He became anxious above all things to get - Palmerston out of the Foreign Office. But then—supposing Palmerston - refused to go? - </p> - <p> - In a memorandum made by the Prince, at about this time, of an interview - between himself, the Queen, and the Prime Minister, we catch a curious - glimpse of the states of mind of those three high personages—the - anxiety and irritation of Lord John, the vehement acrimony of Victoria, - and the reasonable animosity of Albert—drawn together, as it were, - under the shadow of an unseen Presence, the cause of that celestial anger—the - gay, portentous Palmerston. At one point in the conversation Lord John - observed that he believed the Foreign Secretary would consent to a change - of offices; Lord Palmerston, he said, realised that he had lost the - Queen's confidence—though only on public, and not on personal, - grounds. But on that, the Prince noted, "the Queen interrupted Lord John - by remarking that she distrusted him on PERSONAL grounds also, but I - remarked that Lord Palmerston had so far at least seen rightly; that he - had become disagreeable to the Queen, not on account of his person, but of - his political doings—to which the Queen assented." Then the Prince - suggested that there was a danger of the Cabinet breaking up, and of Lord - Palmerston returning to office as Prime Minister. But on that point Lord - John was reassuring: he "thought Lord Palmerston too old to do much in the - future (having passed his sixty-fifth year)." Eventually it was decided - that nothing could be done for the present, but that the UTMOST SECRECY - must be observed; and so the conclave ended. - </p> - <p> - At last, in 1850, deliverance seemed to be at hand. There were signs that - the public were growing weary of the alarums and excursions of - Palmerston's diplomacy; and when his support of Don Pacifico, a British - subject, in a quarrel with the Greek Government, seemed to be upon the - point of involving the country in a war not only with Greece but also with - France, and possibly with Russia into the bargain, a heavy cloud of - distrust and displeasure appeared to be gathering and about to burst over - his head. A motion directed against him in the House of Lords was passed - by a substantial majority. The question was next to be discussed in the - House of Commons, where another adverse vote was not improbable, and would - seal the doom of the Minister. Palmerston received the attack with - complete nonchalance, and then, at the last possible moment, he struck. In - a speech of over four hours, in which exposition, invective, argument, - declamation, plain talk and resounding eloquence were mingled together - with consummate art and extraordinary felicity, he annihilated his - enemies. The hostile motion was defeated, and Palmerston was once more the - hero of the hour. Simultaneously, Atropos herself conspired to favour him. - Sir Robert Peel was thrown from his horse and killed. By this tragic - chance, Palmerston saw the one rival great enough to cope with him removed - from his path. He judged—and judged rightly—that he was the - most popular man in England; and when Lord John revived the project of his - exchanging the Foreign Office for some other position in the Cabinet, he - absolutely refused to stir. - </p> - <p> - Great was the disappointment of Albert; great was the indignation of - Victoria. "The House of Commons," she wrote, "is becoming very - unmanageable and troublesome." The Prince, perceiving that Palmerston was - more firmly fixed in the saddle than ever, decided that something drastic - must be done. Five months before, the prescient Baron had drawn up, in - case of emergency, a memorandum, which had been carefully docketed, and - placed in a pigeon-hole ready to hand. The emergency had now arisen, and - the memorandum must be used. The Queen copied out the words of Stockmar, - and sent them to the Prime Minister, requesting him to show her letter to - Palmerston. "She thinks it right," she wrote, "in order TO PREVENT ANY - MISTAKE for the FUTURE, shortly to explain WHAT IT IS SHE EXPECTS FROM HER - FOREIGN SECRETARY. She requires: (1) That he will distinctly state what he - proposes in a given case, in order that the Queen may know as distinctly - to WHAT she has given her Royal sanction; (2) Having ONCE GIVEN her - sanction to a measure, that it be not arbitrarily altered or modified by - the Minister; such an act she must consider as failing in sincerity - towards the Crown, and justly to be visited by the exercise of her - Constitutional right of dismissing that Minister." Lord John Russell did - as he was bid, and forwarded the Queen's letter to Lord Palmerston. This - transaction, which was of grave constitutional significance, was entirely - unknown to the outside world. - </p> - <p> - If Palmerston had been a sensitive man, he would probably have resigned on - the receipt of the Queen's missive. But he was far from sensitive; he - loved power, and his power was greater than ever; an unerring instinct - told him that this was not the time to go. Nevertheless, he was seriously - perturbed. He understood at last that he was struggling with a formidable - adversary, whose skill and strength, unless they were mollified, might do - irreparable injury to his career. He therefore wrote to Lord John, briefly - acquiescing in the Queen's requirements—"I have taken a copy of this - memorandum of the Queen and will not fail to attend to the directions - which it contains"—and at the same time, he asked for an interview - with the Prince. Albert at once summoned him to the Palace, and was - astonished to observe, as he noted in a memorandum, that when Palmerston - entered the room "he was very much agitated, shook, and had tears in his - eyes, so as quite to move me, who never under any circumstances had known - him otherwise than with a bland smile on his face." The old statesman was - profuse in protestations and excuses; the young one was coldly polite. At - last, after a long and inconclusive conversation, the Prince, drawing - himself up, said that, in order to give Lord Palmerston "an example of - what the Queen wanted," he would "ask him a question point-blank." Lord - Palmerston waited in respectful silence, while the Prince proceeded as - follows: "You are aware that the Queen has objected to the Protocol about - Schleswig, and of the grounds on which she has done so. Her opinion has - been overruled, the Protocol stating the desire of the Great Powers to see - the integrity of the Danish monarchy preserved has been signed, and upon - this the King of Denmark has invaded Schleswig, where the war is raging. - If Holstein is attacked also, which is likely, the Germans will not be - restrained from flying to her assistance; Russia has menaced to interfere - with arms, if the Schleswigers are successful. What will you do, if this - emergency arises (provoking most likely an European war), and which will - arise very probably when we shall be at Balmoral and Lord John in another - part of Scotland? The Queen expects from your foresight that you have - contemplated this possibility, and requires a categorical answer as to - what you would do in the event supposed." Strangely enough, to this - pointblank question, the Foreign Secretary appeared to be unable to reply. - The whole matter, he said, was extremely complicated, and the - contingencies mentioned by His Royal Highness were very unlikely to arise. - The Prince persisted; but it was useless; for a full hour he struggled to - extract a categorical answer, until at length Palmerston bowed himself out - of the room. Albert threw up his hands in shocked amazement: what could - one do with such a man? - </p> - <p> - What indeed? For, in spite of all his apologies and all his promises, - within a few weeks the incorrigible reprobate was at his tricks again. The - Austrian General Haynau, notorious as a rigorous suppressor of rebellion - in Hungary and Italy, and in particular as a flogger of women, came to - England and took it into his head to pay a visit to Messrs. Barclay and - Perkins's brewery. The features of "General Hyena," as he was everywhere - called—his grim thin face, his enormous pepper-and-salt moustaches—had - gained a horrid celebrity; and it so happened that among the clerks at the - brewery there was a refugee from Vienna, who had given his fellow-workers - a first-hand account of the General's characteristics. The Austrian - Ambassador, scenting danger, begged his friend not to appear in public, - or, if he must do so, to cut off his moustaches first. But the General - would take no advice. He went to the brewery, was immediately recognised, - surrounded by a crowd of angry draymen, pushed about, shouted at, punched - in the ribs, and pulled by the moustaches until, bolting down an alley - with the mob at his heels brandishing brooms and roaring "Hyena!" he - managed to take refuge in a public house, whence he was removed under the - protection of several policemen. The Austrian Government was angry and - demanded explanations. Palmerston, who, of course, was privately delighted - by the incident, replied regretting what had occurred, but adding that in - his opinion the General had "evinced a want of propriety in coming to - England at the present moment;" and he delivered his note to the - Ambassador without having previously submitted it to the Queen or to the - Prime Minister. Naturally, when this was discovered, there was a serious - storm. The Prince was especially indignant; the conduct of the draymen he - regarded, with disgust and alarm, as "a slight foretaste of what an - unregulated mass of illiterate people is capable;" and Palmerston was - requested by Lord John to withdraw his note, and to substitute for it - another from which all censure of the General had been omitted. On this - the Foreign Secretary threatened resignation, but the Prime Minister was - firm. For a moment the royal hopes rose high, only to be dashed to the - ground again by the cruel compliance of the enemy. Palmerston, suddenly - lamblike, agreed to everything; the note was withdrawn and altered, and - peace was patched up once more. - </p> - <p> - It lasted for a year, and then, in October, 1851, the arrival of Kossuth - in England brought on another crisis. Palmerston's desire to receive the - Hungarian patriot at his house in London was vetoed by Lord John; once - more there was a sharp struggle; once more Palmerston, after threatening - resignation, yielded. But still the insubordinate man could not keep - quiet. A few weeks later a deputation of Radicals from Finsbury and - Islington waited on him at the Foreign Office and presented him with an - address, in which the Emperors of Austria and Russia were stigmatised as - "odious and detestable assassins" and "merciless tyrants and despots." The - Foreign Secretary in his reply, while mildly deprecating these - expressions, allowed his real sentiments to appear with a most - undiplomatic insouciance There was an immediate scandal, and the Court - flowed over with rage and vituperation. "I think," said the Baron, "the - man has been for some time insane." Victoria, in an agitated letter, urged - Lord John to assert his authority. But Lord John perceived that on this - matter the Foreign Secretary had the support of public opinion, and he - judged it wiser to bide his time. - </p> - <p> - He had not long to wait. The culmination of the long series of conflicts, - threats, and exacerbations came before the year was out. On December 2, - Louis Napoleon's coup d'etat took place in Paris; and on the following day - Palmerston, without consulting anybody, expressed in a conversation with - the French Ambassador his approval of Napoleon's act. Two days later, he - was instructed by the Prime Minister, in accordance with a letter from the - Queen, that it was the policy of the English Government to maintain an - attitude of strict neutrality towards the affairs of France. Nevertheless, - in an official despatch to the British Ambassador in Paris, he repeated - the approval of the coup d'etat which he had already given verbally to the - French Ambassador in London. This despatch was submitted neither to the - Queen nor to the Prime Minister. Lord John's patience, as he himself said, - "was drained to the last drop." He dismissed Lord Palmerston. - </p> - <p> - Victoria was in ecstasies; and Albert knew that the triumph was his even - more than Lord John's. It was his wish that Lord Granville, a young man - whom he believed to be pliant to his influence, should be Palmerston's - successor; and Lord Granville was appointed. Henceforward, it seemed that - the Prince would have his way in foreign affairs. After years of struggle - and mortification, success greeted him on every hand. In his family, he - was an adored master; in the country, the Great Exhibition had brought him - respect and glory; and now in the secret seats of power he had gained a - new supremacy. He had wrestled with the terrible Lord Palmerston, the - embodiment of all that was most hostile to him in the spirit of England, - and his redoubtable opponent had been overthrown. Was England herself at - his feet? It might be so; and yet... it is said that the sons of England - have a certain tiresome quality: they never know when they are beaten. It - was odd, but Palmerston was positively still jaunty. Was it possible? - Could he believe, in his blind arrogance, that even his ignominious - dismissal from office was something that could be brushed aside? - </p> - <p> - III - </p> - <p> - The Prince's triumph was short-lived. A few weeks later, owing to - Palmerston's influence, the Government was defeated in the House, and Lord - John resigned. Then, after a short interval, a coalition between the Whigs - and the followers of Peel came into power, under the premiership of Lord - Aberdeen. Once more, Palmerston was in the Cabinet. It was true that he - did not return to the Foreign Office; that was something to the good; in - the Home Department it might be hoped that his activities would be less - dangerous and disagreeable. But the Foreign Secretary was no longer the - complacent Granville; and in Lord Clarendon the Prince knew that he had a - Minister to deal with, who, discreet and courteous as he was, had a mind - of his own. These changes, however, were merely the preliminaries of a far - more serious development. - </p> - <p> - Events, on every side, were moving towards a catastrophe. Suddenly the - nation found itself under the awful shadow of imminent war. For several - months, amid the shifting mysteries of diplomacy and the perplexed - agitations of politics, the issue grew more doubtful and more dark, while - the national temper was strained to the breaking-point. At the very crisis - of the long and ominous negotiations, it was announced that Lord - Palmerston had resigned. Then the pent-up fury of the people burst forth. - They had felt that in the terrible complexity of events they were being - guided by weak and embarrassed counsels; but they had been reassured by - the knowledge that at the centre of power there was one man with strength, - with courage, with determination, in whom they could put their trust. They - now learnt that that man was no longer among their leaders. Why? In their - rage, anxiety, and nervous exhaustion, they looked round desperately for - some hidden and horrible explanation of what had occurred. They suspected - plots, they smelt treachery in the air. It was easy to guess the object - upon which their frenzy would vent itself. Was there not a foreigner in - the highest of high places, a foreigner whose hostility to their own - adored champion was unrelenting and unconcealed? The moment that - Palmerston's resignation was known, there was a universal outcry and an - extraordinary tempest of anger and hatred burst, with unparalleled - violence, upon the head of the Prince. - </p> - <p> - It was everywhere asserted and believed that the Queen's husband was a - traitor to the country, that he was a tool of the Russian Court, that in - obedience to Russian influences he had forced Palmerston out of the - Government, and that he was directing the foreign policy of England in the - interests of England's enemies. For many weeks these accusations filled - the whole of the press; repeated at public meetings, elaborated in private - talk, they flew over the country, growing every moment more extreme and - more improbable. While respectable newspapers thundered out their grave - invectives, halfpenny broadsides, hawked through the streets of London, - re-echoed in doggerel vulgarity the same sentiments and the same - suspicions(*). At last the wildest rumours began to spread. - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - (*)"The Turkish war both far and near - Has played the very deuce then, - And little Al, the royal pal, - They say has turned a Russian; - Old Aberdeen, as may be seen, - Looks woeful pale and yellow, - And Old John Bull had his belly full - Of dirty Russian tallow." - - Chorus: - "We'll send him home and make him groan, - Oh, Al! you've played the deuce then; - The German lad has acted sad - And turned tail with the Russians." - -</pre> - <hr /> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - "Last Monday night, all in a fright, - Al out of bed did tumble. - The German lad was raving mad, - How he did groan and grumble! - He cried to Vic, 'I've cut my stick: - To St. Petersburg go right slap.' - When Vic, 'tis said, jumped out of bed, - And wopped him with her night-cap." -</pre> - <p> - From Lovely Albert! a broadside preserved at the British Museum. - </p> - <p> - In January, 1854, it was whispered that the Prince had been seized, that - he had been found guilty of high treason, that he was to be committed to - the Tower. The Queen herself, some declared, had been arrested, and large - crowds actually collected round the Tower to watch the incarceration of - the royal miscreants.(*) - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - (*)"You Jolly Turks, now go to work, - And show the Bear your power. - It is rumoured over Britain's isle - That A——— is in the Tower; - The postmen some suspicion had, - And opened the two letters, - 'Twas a pity sad the German lad - Should not have known much better!" - Lovely Albert! -</pre> - <p> - These fantastic hallucinations, the result of the fevered atmosphere of - approaching war, were devoid of any basis in actual fact. Palmerston's - resignation had been in all probability totally disconnected with foreign - policy; it had certainly been entirely spontaneous, and had surprised the - Court as much as the nation. Nor had Albert's influence been used in any - way to favour the interests of Russia. As often happens in such cases, the - Government had been swinging backwards and forwards between two - incompatible policies—that of non-interference and that of threats - supported by force—either of which, if consistently followed, might - well have had a successful and peaceful issue, but which, mingled - together, could only lead to war. Albert, with characteristic - scrupulosity, attempted to thread his way through the complicated - labyrinth of European diplomacy, and eventually was lost in the maze. But - so was the whole of the Cabinet; and, when war came, his anti-Russian - feelings were quite as vehement as those of the most bellicose of - Englishmen. - </p> - <p> - Nevertheless, though the specific charges levelled against the Prince were - without foundation, there were underlying elements in the situation which - explained, if they did not justify, the popular state of mind. It was true - that the Queen's husband was a foreigner, who had been brought up in a - foreign Court, was impregnated with foreign ideas, and was closely related - to a multitude of foreign princes. Clearly this, though perhaps an - unavoidable, was an undesirable, state of affairs; nor were the objections - to it merely theoretical; it had in fact produced unpleasant consequences - of a serious kind. The Prince's German proclivities were perpetually - lamented by English Ministers; Lord Palmerston, Lord Clarendon, Lord - Aberdeen, all told the same tale; and it was constantly necessary, in - grave questions of national policy, to combat the prepossessions of a - Court in which German views and German sentiments held a disproportionate - place. As for Palmerston, his language on this topic was apt to be - unbridled. At the height of his annoyance over his resignation, he roundly - declared that he had been made a victim to foreign intrigue. He afterwards - toned down this accusation; but the mere fact that such a suggestion from - such a quarter was possible at all showed to what unfortunate consequences - Albert's foreign birth and foreign upbringing might lead. - </p> - <p> - But this was not all. A constitutional question of the most profound - importance was raised by the position of the Prince in England. His - presence gave a new prominence to an old problem—the precise - definition of the functions and the powers of the Crown. Those functions - and powers had become, in effect, his; and what sort of use was he making - of them? His views as to the place of the Crown in the Constitution are - easily ascertainable; for they were Stockmar's; and it happens that we - possess a detailed account of Stockmar's opinions upon the subject in a - long letter addressed by him to the Prince at the time of this very - crisis, just before the outbreak of the Crimean War. Constitutional - Monarchy, according to the Baron, had suffered an eclipse since the - passing of the Reform Bill. It was now "constantly in danger of becoming a - pure Ministerial Government." The old race of Tories, who "had a direct - interest in upholding the prerogatives of the Crown," had died out; and - the Whigs were "nothing but partly conscious, partly unconscious - Republicans, who stand in the same relation to the Throne as the wolf does - to the lamb." There was a rule that it was unconstitutional to introduce - "the name and person of the irresponsible Sovereign" into parliamentary - debates on constitutional matters; this was "a constitutional fiction, - which, although undoubtedly of old standing, was fraught with danger"; and - the Baron warned the Prince that "if the English Crown permit a Whig - Ministry to follow this rule in practice, without exception, you must not - wonder if in a little time you find the majority of the people impressed - with the belief that the King, in the view of the law, is nothing but a - mandarin figure, which has to nod its head in assent, or shake it in - denial, as his Minister pleases." To prevent this from happening, it was - of extreme importance, said the Baron, "that no opportunity should be let - slip of vindicating the legitimate position of the Crown." "And this is - not hard to do," he added, "and can never embarrass a Minister where such - straightforward loyal personages as the Queen and the Prince are - concerned." In his opinion, the very lowest claim of the Royal Prerogative - should include "a right on the part of the King to be the permanent - President of his Ministerial Council." The Sovereign ought to be "in the - position of a permanent Premier, who takes rank above the temporary head - of the Cabinet, and in matters of discipline exercises supreme authority." - The Sovereign "may even take a part in the initiation and the maturing of - the Government measures; for it would be unreasonable to expect that a - king, himself as able, as accomplished, and as patriotic as the best of - his Ministers, should be prevented from making use of these qualities at - the deliberations of his Council." "The judicious exercise of this right," - concluded the Baron, "which certainly requires a master mind, would not - only be the best guarantee for Constitutional Monarchy, but would raise it - to a height of power, stability, and symmetry, which has never been - attained." - </p> - <p> - Now it may be that this reading of the Constitution is a possible one, - though indeed it is hard to see how it can be made compatible with the - fundamental doctrine of ministerial responsibility. William III presided - over his Council, and he was a constitutional monarch; and it seems that - Stockmar had in his mind a conception of the Crown which would have given - it a place in the Constitution analogous to that which it filled at the - time of William III. But it is clear that such a theory, which would - invest the Crown with more power than it possessed even under George III, - runs counter to the whole development of English public life since the - Revolution; and the fact that it was held by Stockmar, and instilled by - him into Albert, was of very serious importance. For there was good reason - to believe not only that these doctrines were held by Albert in theory, - but that he was making a deliberate and sustained attempt to give them - practical validity. The history of the struggle between the Crown and - Palmerston provided startling evidence that this was the case. That - struggle reached its culmination when, in Stockmar's memorandum of 1850, - the Queen asserted her "constitutional right" to dismiss the Foreign - Secretary if he altered a despatch which had received her sanction. The - memorandum was, in fact, a plain declaration that the Crown intended to - act independently of the Prime Minister. Lord John Russell, anxious at all - costs to strengthen himself against Palmerston, accepted the memorandum, - and thereby implicitly allowed the claim of the Crown. More than that; - after the dismissal of Palmerston, among the grounds on which Lord John - justified that dismissal in the House of Commons he gave a prominent place - to the memorandum of 1850. It became apparent that the displeasure of the - Sovereign might be a reason for the removal of a powerful and popular - Minister. It seemed indeed as if, under the guidance of Stockmar and - Albert, the "Constitutional Monarchy" might in very truth be rising "to a - height of power, stability, and symmetry, which had never been attained." - </p> - <p> - But this new development in the position of the Crown, grave as it was in - itself, was rendered peculiarly disquieting by the unusual circumstances - which surrounded it. For the functions of the Crown were now, in effect, - being exercised by a person unknown to the Constitution, who wielded over - the Sovereign an undefined and unbounded influence. The fact that this - person was the Sovereign's husband, while it explained his influence and - even made it inevitable, by no means diminished its strange and momentous - import. An ambiguous, prepotent figure had come to disturb the ancient, - subtle, and jealously guarded balance of the English Constitution. Such - had been the unexpected outcome of the tentative and fainthearted opening - of Albert's political life. He himself made no attempt to minimise either - the multiplicity or the significance of the functions he performed. He - considered that it was his duty, he told the Duke of Wellington in 1850, - to "sink his OWN INDIVIDUAL existence in that of his wife—assume no - separate responsibility before the public, but make his position entirely - a part of hers—fill up every gap which, as a woman, she would - naturally leave in the exercise of her regal functions—continually - and anxiously watch every part of the public business, in order to be able - to advise and assist her at any moment in any of the multifarious and - difficult questions or duties brought before her, sometimes international, - sometimes political, or social, or personal. As the natural head of her - family, superintendent of her household, manager of her private affairs, - sole CONFIDENTIAL adviser in politics, and only assistant in her - communications with the officers of the Government, he is, besides, the - husband of the Queen, the tutor of the royal children, the private - secretary of the Sovereign, and her permanent minister." Stockmar's pupil - had assuredly gone far and learnt well. Stockmar's pupil!—precisely; - the public, painfully aware of Albert's predominance, had grown, too, - uneasily conscious that Victoria's master had a master of his own. Deep in - the darkness the Baron loomed. Another foreigner! Decidedly, there were - elements in the situation which went far to justify the popular alarm. A - foreign Baron controlled a foreign Prince, and the foreign Prince - controlled the Crown of England. And the Crown itself was creeping forward - ominously; and when, from under its shadow, the Baron and the Prince had - frowned, a great Minister, beloved of the people, had fallen. Where was - all this to end? - </p> - <p> - Within a few weeks Palmerston withdrew his resignation, and the public - frenzy subsided as quickly as it had arisen. When Parliament met, the - leaders of both the parties in both the Houses made speeches in favour of - the Prince, asserting his unimpeachable loyalty to the country and - vindicating his right to advise the Sovereign in all matters of State. - Victoria was delighted. "The position of my beloved lord and master," she - told the Baron, "has been defined for once amid all and his merits have - been acknowledged on all sides most duly. There was an immense concourse - of people assembled when we went to the House of Lords, and the people - were very friendly." Immediately afterwards, the country finally plunged - into the Crimean War. In the struggle that followed, Albert's patriotism - was put beyond a doubt, and the animosities of the past were forgotten. - But the war had another consequence, less gratifying to the royal couple: - it crowned the ambition of Lord Palmerston. In 1855, the man who five - years before had been pronounced by Lord John Russell to be "too old to do - much in the future," became Prime Minister of England, and, with one short - interval, remained in that position for ten years. - </p> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER VI. LAST YEARS OF PRINCE CONSORT - </h2> - <h3> - I - </h3> - <p> - The weak-willed youth who took no interest in polities and never read a - newspaper had grown into a man of unbending determination whose tireless - energies were incessantly concentrated upon the laborious business of - government and the highest questions of State. He was busy now from - morning till night. In the winter, before the dawn, he was to be seen, - seated at his writing-table, working by the light of the green reading—lamp - which he had brought over with him from Germany, and the construction of - which he had much improved by an ingenious device. Victoria was early too, - but she was not so early as Albert; and when, in the chill darkness, she - took her seat at her own writing-table, placed side by side with his, she - invariably found upon it a neat pile of papers arranged for her inspection - and her signature. The day, thus begun, continued in unremitting industry. - At breakfast, the newspapers—the once hated newspapers—made - their appearance, and the Prince, absorbed in their perusal, would answer - no questions, or, if an article struck him, would read it aloud. After, - that there were ministers and secretaries to interview; there was a vast - correspondence to be carried on; there were numerous memoranda to be made. - Victoria, treasuring every word, preserving every letter, was all - breathless attention and eager obedience. Sometimes Albert would actually - ask her advice. He consulted her about his English: "Lese recht - aufmerksam, und sage wenn irgend ein Fehler ist,"(*) he would say; or, as - he handed her a draft for her signature, he would observe, "Ich hab' Dir - hier ein Draft gemacht, lese es mal! Ich dachte es ware recht so."(**) - Thus the diligent, scrupulous, absorbing hours passed by. Fewer and fewer - grew the moments of recreation and of exercise. The demands of society - were narrowed down to the smallest limits, and even then but grudgingly - attended to. It was no longer a mere pleasure, it was a positive - necessity, to go to bed as early as possible in order to be up and at work - on the morrow betimes. - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - (*) "Read this carefully, and tell me if there are any - mistakes in it." - - (**) "Here is a draft I have made for you. Read it. I should - think this would do." -</pre> - <p> - The important and exacting business of government, which became at last - the dominating preoccupation in Albert's mind, still left unimpaired his - old tastes and interests; he remained devoted to art, to science, to - philosophy, and a multitude of subsidiary activities showed how his - energies increased as the demands upon them grew. For whenever duty - called, the Prince was all alertness. With indefatigable perseverance he - opened museums, laid the foundation stones of hospitals, made speeches to - the Royal Agricultural Society, and attended meetings of the British - Association. The National Gallery particularly interested him: he drew up - careful regulations for the arrangement of the pictures according to - schools; and he attempted—though in vain—to have the whole - collection transported to South Kensington. Feodora, now the Princess - Hohenlohe, after a visit to England, expressed in a letter to Victoria her - admiration of Albert both as a private and a public character. Nor did she - rely only on her own opinion. "I must just copy out," she said, "what Mr. - Klumpp wrote to me some little time ago, and which is quite true—'Prince - Albert is one of the few Royal personages who can sacrifice to any - principle (as soon as it has become evident to them to be good and noble) - all those notions (or sentiments) to which others, owing to their - narrow-mindedness, or to the prejudices of their rank, are so thoroughly - inclined strongly to cling.' There is something so truly religious in - this," the Princess added, "as well as humane and just, most soothing to - my feelings which are so often hurt and disturbed by what I hear and see." - </p> - <p> - Victoria, from the depth of her heart, subscribed to all the eulogies of - Feodora and Mr. Klumpp. She only found that they were insufficient. As she - watched her beloved Albert, after toiling with state documents and public - functions, devoting every spare moment of his time to domestic duties, to - artistic appreciation, and to intellectual improvements; as she listened - to him cracking his jokes at the luncheon table, or playing Mendelssohn on - the organ, or pointing out the merits of Sir Edwin Landseer's pictures; as - she followed him round while he gave instructions about the breeding of - cattle, or decided that the Gainsboroughs must be hung higher up so that - the Winterhalters might be properly seen—she felt perfectly certain - that no other wife had ever had such a husband. His mind was apparently - capable of everything, and she was hardly surprised to learn that he had - made an important discovery for the conversion of sewage into agricultural - manure. Filtration from below upwards, he explained, through some - appropriate medium, which retained the solids and set free the fluid - sewage for irrigation, was the principle of the scheme. "All previous - plans," he said, "would have cost millions; mine costs next to nothing." - Unfortunately, owing to a slight miscalculation, the invention proved to - be impracticable; but Albert's intelligence was unrebuffed, and he passed - on, to plunge with all his accustomed ardour into a prolonged study of the - rudiments of lithography. - </p> - <p> - But naturally it was upon his children that his private interests and - those of Victoria were concentrated most vigorously. The royal nurseries - showed no sign of emptying. The birth of the Prince Arthur in 1850 was - followed, three years later, by that of the Prince Leopold; and in 1857 - the Princess Beatrice was born. A family of nine must be, in any - circumstances, a grave responsibility; and the Prince realised to the full - how much the high destinies of his offspring intensified the need of - parental care. It was inevitable that he should believe profoundly in the - importance of education; he himself had been the product of education; - Stockmar had made him what he was; it was for him, in his turn, to be a - Stockmar—to be even more than a Stockmar—to the young - creatures he had brought into the world. Victoria would assist him; a - Stockmar, no doubt, she could hardly be; but she could be perpetually - vigilant, she could mingle strictness with her affection, and she could - always set a good example. These considerations, of course, applied - pre-eminently to the education of the Prince of Wales. How tremendous was - the significance of every particle of influence which went to the making - of the future King of England! Albert set to work with a will. But, - watching with Victoria the minutest details of the physical, intellectual, - and moral training of his children, he soon perceived, to his distress, - that there was something unsatisfactory in the development of his eldest - son. The Princess Royal was an extremely intelligent child; but Bertie, - though he was good-humoured and gentle, seemed to display a deep-seated - repugnance to every form of mental exertion. This was most regrettable, - but the remedy was obvious: the parental efforts must be redoubled; - instruction must be multiplied; not for a single instant must the - educational pressure be allowed to relax. Accordingly, more tutors were - selected, the curriculum was revised, the time-table of studies was - rearranged, elaborate memoranda dealing with every possible contingency - were drawn up. It was above all essential that there should be no - slackness: "Work," said the Prince, "must be work." And work indeed it - was. The boy grew up amid a ceaseless round of paradigms, syntactical - exercises, dates, genealogical tables, and lists of capes. Constant notes - flew backwards and forwards between the Prince, the Queen, and the tutors, - with inquiries, with reports of progress, with detailed recommendations; - and these notes were all carefully preserved for future reference. It was, - besides, vital that the heir to the throne should be protected from the - slightest possibility of contamination from the outside world. The Prince - of Wales was not as other boys; he might, occasionally, be allowed to - invite some sons of the nobility, boys of good character, to play with him - in the garden of Buckingham Palace; but his father presided, with alarming - precision, over their sports. In short, every possible precaution was - taken, every conceivable effort was made. Yet, strange to say, the object - of all this vigilance and solicitude continued to be unsatisfactory—appeared, - in fact, to be positively growing worse. It was certainly very odd: the - more lessons that Bertie had to do, the less he did them; and the more - carefully he was guarded against excitements and frivolities, the more - desirous of mere amusement he seemed to become. Albert was deeply grieved - and Victoria was sometimes very angry; but grief and anger produced no - more effect than supervision and time-tables. The Prince of Wales, in - spite of everything, grew up into manhood without the faintest sign of - "adherence to and perseverance in the plan both of studies and life—" - as one of the Royal memoranda put it—which had been laid down with - such extraordinary forethought by his father. - </p> - <p> - II - </p> - <p> - Against the insidious worries of politics, the boredom of society - functions, and the pompous publicity of state ceremonies, Osborne had - afforded a welcome refuge; but it soon appeared that even Osborne was too - little removed from the world. After all, the Solent was a feeble barrier. - Oh, for some distant, some almost inaccessible sanctuary, where, in true - domestic privacy, one could make happy holiday, just as if—or at - least very, very, nearly—one were anybody else! Victoria, ever - since, together with Albert, she had visited Scotland in the early years - of her marriage, had felt that her heart was in the Highlands. She had - returned to them a few years later, and her passion had grown. How - romantic they were! And how Albert enjoyed them too! His spirits rose - quite wonderfully as soon as he found himself among the hills and the - conifers. "It is a happiness to see him," she wrote. "Oh! What can equal - the beauties of nature!" she exclaimed in her journal, during one of these - visits. "What enjoyment there is in them! Albert enjoys it so much; he is - in ecstasies here." "Albert said," she noted next day, "that the chief - beauty of mountain scenery consists in its frequent changes. We came home - at six o'clock." Then she went on a longer expedition—up to the very - top of a high hill. "It was quite romantic. Here we were with only this - Highlander behind us holding the ponies (for we got off twice and walked - about). . . . We came home at half-past eleven,—the most delightful, - most romantic ride and walk I ever had. I had never been up such a - mountain, and then the day was so fine." The Highlanders, too, were such - astonishing people. They "never make difficulties," she noted, "but are - cheerful, and happy, and merry, and ready to walk, and run, and do - anything." As for Albert he "highly appreciated the good-breeding, - simplicity, and intelligence, which make it so pleasant and even - instructive to talk to them." "We were always in the habit," wrote Her - Majesty, "of conversing with the Highlanders—with whom one comes so - much in contact in the Highlands." She loved everything about them—their - customs, their dress, their dances, even their musical instruments. "There - were nine pipers at the castle," she wrote after staying with Lord - Breadalbane; "sometimes one and sometimes three played. They always played - about breakfast-time, again during the morning, at luncheon, and also - whenever we went in and out; again before dinner, and during most of - dinner-time. We both have become quite fond of the bag-pipes." - </p> - <p> - It was quite impossible not to wish to return to such pleasures again and - again; and in 1848 the Queen took a lease of Balmoral House, a small - residence near Braemar in the wilds of Aberdeenshire. Four years later she - bought the place outright. Now she could be really happy every summer; now - she could be simple and at her ease; now she could be romantic every - evening, and dote upon Albert, without a single distraction, all day long. - The diminutive scale of the house was in itself a charm. Nothing was more - amusing than to find oneself living in two or three little sitting—rooms, - with the children crammed away upstairs, and the minister in attendance - with only a tiny bedroom to do all his work in. And then to be able to run - in and out of doors as one liked, and to sketch, and to walk, and to watch - the red deer coming so surprisingly close, and to pay visits to the - cottagers! And occasionally one could be more adventurous still—one - could go and stay for a night or two at the Bothie at Alt-na-giuthasach—a - mere couple of huts with "a wooden addition"—and only eleven people - in the whole party! And there were mountains to be climbed and cairns to - be built in solemn pomp. "At last, when the cairn, which is, I think, - seven or eight feet high, was nearly completed, Albert climbed up to the - top of it, and placed the last stone; after which three cheers were given. - It was a gay, pretty, and touching sight; and I felt almost inclined to - cry. The view was so beautiful over the dear hills; the day so fine; the - whole so gemuthlich." And in the evening there were sword-dances and - reels. - </p> - <p> - But Albert had determined to pull down the little old house, and to build - in its place a castle of his own designing. With great ceremony, in - accordance with a memorandum drawn up by the Prince for the occasion, the - foundation-stone of the new edifice was laid, and by 1855 it was - habitable. Spacious, built of granite in the Scotch baronial style, with a - tower 100 feet high, and minor turrets and castellated gables, the castle - was skilfully arranged to command the finest views of the surrounding - mountains and of the neighbouring river Dee. Upon the interior decorations - Albert and Victoria lavished all their care. The wall and the floors were - of pitch-pine, and covered with specially manufactured tartars. The - Balmoral tartan, in red and grey, designed by the Prince, and the Victoria - tartan, with a white stripe, designed by the Queen, were to be seen in - every room: there were tartan curtains, and tartan chair-covers, and even - tartan linoleums. Occasionally the Royal Stuart tartan appeared, for Her - Majesty always maintained that she was an ardent Jacobite. Water-colour - sketches by Victoria hung upon the walls, together with innumerable stags' - antlers, and the head of a boar, which had been shot by Albert in Germany. - In an alcove in the hall, stood a life-sized statue of Albert in Highland - dress. - </p> - <p> - Victoria declared that it was perfection. "Every year," she wrote, "my - heart becomes more fixed in this dear paradise, and so much more so now, - that ALL has become my dear Albert's own creation, own work, own building, - own lay-out... and his great taste, and the impress of his dear hand, have - been stamped everywhere." - </p> - <p> - And here, in very truth, her happiest days were passed. In after years, - when she looked back upon them, a kind of glory, a radiance as of an - unearthly holiness, seemed to glow about these golden hours. Each hallowed - moment stood out clear, beautiful, eternally significant. For, at the - time, every experience there, sentimental, or grave, or trivial, had come - upon her with a peculiar vividness, like a flashing of marvellous lights. - Albert's stalkings—an evening walk when she lost her way—Vicky - sitting down on a wasps' nest—a torchlight dance—with what - intensity such things, and ten thousand like them, impressed themselves - upon her eager consciousness! And how she flew to her journal to note them - down! The news of the Duke's death! What a moment—when, as she sat - sketching after a picnic by a loch in the lonely hills, Lord Derby's - letter had been brought to her, and she had learnt that "ENGLAND'S, or - rather BRITAIN'S pride, her glory, her hero, the greatest man she had ever - produced, was no morel." For such were here reflections upon the "old - rebel" of former days. But that past had been utterly obliterated—no - faintest memory of it remained. For years she had looked up to the Duke as - a figure almost superhuman. Had he not been a supporter of good Sir - Robert? Had he not asked Albert to succeed him as commander-in-chief? And - what a proud moment it had been when he stood as sponsor to her son - Arthur, who was born on his eighty-first birthday! So now she filled a - whole page of her diary with panegyrical regrets. "His position was the - highest a subject ever had—above party—looked up to by all—revered - by the whole nation—the friend of the Sovereign... The Crown never - possessed—and I fear never WILL—so DEVOTED, loyal, and - faithful a subject, so staunch a supporter! To US his loss is - IRREPARABLE... To Albert he showed the greatest kindness and the utmost - confidence... Not an eye will be dry in the whole country." These were - serious thoughts; but they were soon succeeded by others hardly less - moving—by events as impossible to forget—by Mr. MacLeod's - sermon on Nicodemus—by the gift of a red flannel petticoat to Mrs. - P. Farquharson, and another to old Kitty Kear. - </p> - <p> - But, without doubt, most memorable, most delightful of all were the - expeditions—the rare, exciting expeditions up distant mountains, - across broad rivers, through strange country, and lasting several days. - With only two gillies—Grant and Brown—for servants, and with - assumed names. It was more like something in a story than real life. "We - had decided to call ourselves LORD AND LADY CHURCHILL AND AND PARTY—Lady - Churchill passing as MISS SPENCER and General Grey as DR. GREY! Brown once - forgot this and called me 'Your Majesty' as I was getting into the - carriage, and Grant on the box once called Albert 'Your Royal Highness,' - which set us off laughing, but no one observed it." Strong, vigorous, - enthusiastic, bringing, so it seemed, good fortune with her—the - Highlanders declared she had "a lucky foot"—she relished everything—the - scrambles and the views and the contretemps and the rough inns with their - coarse fare and Brown and Grant waiting at table. She could have gone on - for ever and ever, absolutely happy with Albert beside her and Brown at - her pony's head. But the time came for turning homewards, alas! the time - came for going back to England. She could hardly bear it; she sat - disconsolate in her room and watched the snow falling. The last day! Oh! - If only she could be snowed up! - </p> - <p> - III - </p> - <p> - The Crimean War brought new experiences, and most of them were pleasant - ones. It was pleasant to be patriotic and pugnacious, to look out - appropriate prayers to be read in the churches, to have news of glorious - victories, and to know oneself, more proudly than ever, the representative - of England. With that spontaneity of feeling which was so peculiarly her - own, Victoria poured out her emotion, her admiration, her pity, her love, - upon her "dear soldiers." When she gave them their medals her exultation - knew no bounds. "Noble fellows!" she wrote to the King of the Belgians, "I - own I feel as if these were MY OWN CHILDREN; my heart beats for THEM as - for my NEAREST and DEAREST. They were so touched, so pleased; many, I - hear, cried—and they won't hear of giving up their medals to have - their names engraved upon them for fear they should not receive the - IDENTICAL ONE put into THEIR HANDS BY ME, which is quite touching. Several - came by in a sadly mutilated state." She and they were at one. They felt - that she had done them a splendid honour, and she, with perfect - genuineness, shared their feeling. Albert's attitude towards such things - was different; there was an austerity in him which quite prohibited the - expansions of emotion. When General Williams returned from the heroic - defence of Kars and was presented at Court, the quick, stiff, distant bow - with which the Prince received him struck like ice upon the beholders. He - was a stranger still. - </p> - <p> - But he had other things to occupy him, more important, surely, than the - personal impressions of military officers and people who went to Court. He - was at work—ceaselessly at work—on the tremendous task of - carrying through the war to a successful conclusion. State papers, - despatches, memoranda, poured from him in an overwhelming stream. Between - 1853 and 1857 fifty folio volumes were filled with the comments of his pen - upon the Eastern question. Nothing would induce him to stop. Weary - ministers staggered under the load of his advice; but his advice - continued, piling itself up over their writing-tables, and flowing out - upon them from red box after red box. Nor was it advice to be ignored. The - talent for administration which had reorganised the royal palaces and - planned the Great Exhibition asserted itself no less in the confused - complexities of war. Again and again the Prince's suggestions, rejected or - unheeded at first, were adopted under the stress of circumstances and - found to be full of value. The enrolment of a foreign legion, the - establishment of a depot for troops at Malta, the institution of - periodical reports and tabulated returns as to the condition of the army - at Sebastopol—such were the contrivances and the achievements of his - indefatigable brain. He went further: in a lengthy minute he laid down the - lines for a radical reform in the entire administration of the army. This - was premature, but his proposal that "a camp of evolution" should be - created, in which troops should be concentrated and drilled, proved to be - the germ of Aldershot. - </p> - <p> - Meanwhile Victoria had made a new friend: she had suddenly been captivated - by Napoleon III. Her dislike of him had been strong at first. She - considered that he was a disreputable adventurer who had usurped the - throne of poor old Louis Philippe; and besides he was hand-in-glove with - Lord Palmerston. For a long time, although he was her ally, she was - unwilling to meet him; but at last a visit of the Emperor and Empress to - England was arranged. Directly he appeared at Windsor her heart began to - soften. She found that she was charmed by his quiet manners, his low, soft - voice, and by the soothing simplicity of his conversation. The good-will - of England was essential to the Emperor's position in Europe, and he had - determined to fascinate the Queen. He succeeded. There was something deep - within her which responded immediately and vehemently to natures that - offered a romantic contrast with her own. Her adoration of Lord Melbourne - was intimately interwoven with her half-unconscious appreciation of the - exciting unlikeness between herself and that sophisticated, subtle, - aristocratical old man. Very different was the quality of her unlikeness - to Napoleon; but its quantity was at least as great. From behind the vast - solidity of her respectability, her conventionality, her established - happiness, she peered out with a strange delicious pleasure at that - unfamiliar, darkly-glittering foreign object, moving so meteorically - before her, an ambiguous creature of wilfulness and Destiny. And, to her - surprise, where she had dreaded antagonisms, she discovered only - sympathies. He was, she said, "so quiet, so simple, naif even, so pleased - to be informed about things he does not know, so gentle, so full of tact, - dignity, and modesty, so full of kind attention towards us, never saying a - word, or doing a thing, which could put me out... There is something - fascinating, melancholy, and engaging which draws you to him, in spite of - any prevention you may have against him, and certainly without the - assistance of any outward appearance, though I like his face." She - observed that he rode "extremely well, and looks well on horseback, as he - sits high." And he danced "with great dignity and spirit." Above all, he - listened to Albert; listened with the most respectful attention; showed, - in fact, how pleased he was "to be informed about things he did not know;" - and afterwards was heard to declare that he had never met the Prince's - equal. On one occasion, indeed—but only on one—he had seemed - to grow slightly restive. In a diplomatic conversation, "I expatiated a - little on the Holstein question," wrote the Prince in a memorandum, "which - appeared to bore the Emperor as 'tres compliquee.'" - </p> - <p> - Victoria, too, became much attached to the Empress, whose looks and graces - she admired without a touch of jealousy. Eugenie, indeed, in the plenitude - of her beauty, exquisitely dressed in wonderful Parisian crinolines which - set off to perfection her tall and willowy figure, might well have caused - some heart-burning in the breast of her hostess, who, very short, rather - stout, quite plain, in garish middle-class garments, could hardly be - expected to feel at her best in such company. But Victoria had no - misgivings. To her it mattered nothing that her face turned red in the - heat and that her purple pork-pie hat was of last year's fashion, while - Eugenie, cool and modish, floated in an infinitude of flounces by her - side. She was Queen of England, and was not that enough? It certainly - seemed to be; true majesty was hers, and she knew it. More than once, when - the two were together in public, it was the woman to whom, as it seemed, - nature and art had given so little, who, by the sheer force of an inherent - grandeur, completely threw her adorned and beautiful companion into the - shade. - </p> - <p> - There were tears when the moment came for parting, and Victoria felt - "quite wehmuthig," as her guests went away from Windsor. But before long - she and Albert paid a return visit to France, where everything was very - delightful, and she drove incognito through the streets of Paris in a - "common bonnet," and saw a play in the theatre at St. Cloud, and, one - evening, at a great party given by the Emperor in her honour at the - Chateau of Versailles, talked a little to a distinguished-looking Prussian - gentleman, whose name was Bismarck. Her rooms were furnished so much to - her taste that she declared they gave her quite a home feeling—that, - if her little dog were there, she should really imagine herself at home. - Nothing was said, but three days later her little dog barked a welcome to - her as she entered the apartments. The Emperor himself, sparing neither - trouble nor expense, had personally arranged the charming surprise. Such - were his attentions. She returned to England more enchanted than ever. - "Strange indeed," she exclaimed, "are the dispensations and ways of - Providence!" - </p> - <p> - The alliance prospered, and the war drew towards a conclusion. Both the - Queen and the Prince, it is true, were most anxious that there should not - be a premature peace. When Lord Aberdeen wished to open negotiations - Albert attacked him in a "geharnischten" letter, while Victoria rode about - on horseback reviewing the troops. At last, however, Sebastopol was - captured. The news reached Balmoral late at night, and in a few minutes - Albert and all the gentlemen in every species of attire sallied forth, - followed by all the servants, and gradually by all the population of the - village-keepers, gillies, workmen—"up to the top of the cairn." A - bonfire was lighted, the pipes were played, and guns were shot off. "About - three-quarters of an hour after Albert came down and said the scene had - been wild and exciting beyond everything. The people had been drinking - healths in whisky and were in great ecstasy." The "great ecstasy," - perhaps, would be replaced by other feelings next morning; but at any rate - the war was over—though, to be sure, its end seemed as difficult to - account for as its beginning. The dispensations and ways of Providence - continued to be strange. - </p> - <p> - IV - </p> - <p> - An unexpected consequence of the war was a complete change in the - relations between the royal pair and Palmerston. The Prince and the - Minister drew together over their hostility to Russia, and thus it came - about that when Victoria found it necessary to summon her old enemy to - form an administration she did so without reluctance. The premiership, - too, had a sobering effect upon Palmerston; he grew less impatient and - dictatorial; considered with attention the suggestions of the Crown, and - was, besides, genuinely impressed by the Prince's ability and knowledge. - Friction, no doubt, there still occasionally was, for, while the Queen and - the Prince devoted themselves to foreign politics as much as ever, their - views, when the war was over, became once more antagonistic to those of - the Prime Minister. This was especially the case with regard to Italy. - Albert, theoretically the friend of constitutional government, distrusted - Cavour, was horrified by Garibaldi, and dreaded the danger of England - being drawn into war with Austria. Palmerston, on the other hand, was - eager for Italian independence; but he was no longer at the Foreign - Office, and the brunt of the royal displeasure had now to be borne by Lord - John Russell. In a few years the situation had curiously altered. It was - Lord John who now filled the subordinate and the ungrateful role; but the - Foreign Secretary, in his struggle with the Crown, was supported, instead - of opposed, by the Prime Minister. Nevertheless the struggle was fierce, - and the policy, by which the vigorous sympathy of England became one of - the decisive factors in the final achievement of Italian unity, was only - carried through in face of the violent opposition of the Court. - </p> - <p> - Towards the other European storm-centre, also, the Prince's attitude - continued to be very different to that of Palmerston. Albert's great wish - was for a united Germany under the leadership of a constitutional and - virtuous Prussia; Palmerston did not think that there was much to be said - for the scheme, but he took no particular interest in German politics, and - was ready enough to agree to a proposal which was warmly supported by both - the Prince and the Queen—that the royal Houses of England and - Prussia should be united by the marriage of the Princess Royal with the - Prussian Crown Prince. Accordingly, when the Princess was not yet fifteen, - the Prince, a young man of twenty-four, came over on a visit to Balmoral, - and the betrothal took place. Two years later, in 1857, the marriage was - celebrated. At the last moment, however, it seemed that there might be a - hitch. It was pointed out in Prussia that it was customary for Princes of - the blood royal to be married in Berlin, and it was suggested that there - was no reason why the present case should be treated as an exception. When - this reached the ears of Victoria, she was speechless with indignation. In - a note, emphatic even for Her Majesty, she instructed the Foreign - Secretary to tell the Prussian Ambassador "not to ENTERTAIN the - POSSIBILITY of such a question... The Queen NEVER could consent to it, - both for public and for private reasons, and the assumption of its being - TOO MUCH for a Prince Royal of Prussia to come over to marry the Princess - Royal of Great Britain in England is too ABSURD to say the least. . . - Whatever may be the usual practice of Prussian princes, it is not EVERY - day that one marries the eldest daughter of the Queen of England. The - question must therefore be considered as settled and closed." It was, and - the wedding took place in St. James's Chapel. There were great festivities—illuminations, - state concerts, immense crowds, and general rejoicings. At Windsor a - magnificent banquet was given to the bride and bridegroom in the Waterloo - room, at which, Victoria noted in her diary, "everybody was most friendly - and kind about Vicky and full of the universal enthusiasm, of which the - Duke of Buccleuch gave us most pleasing instances, he having been in the - very thick of the crowd and among the lowest of the low." Her feelings - during several days had been growing more and more emotional, and when the - time came for the young couple to depart she very nearly broke down—but - not quite. "Poor dear child!" she wrote afterwards. "I clasped her in my - arms and blessed her, and knew not what to say. I kissed good Fritz and - pressed his hand again and again. He was unable to speak and the tears - were in his eyes. I embraced them both again at the carriage door, and - Albert got into the carriage, an open one, with them and Bertie... The - band struck up. I wished good-bye to the good Perponchers. General - Schreckenstein was much affected. I pressed his hand, and the good Dean's, - and then went quickly upstairs." - </p> - <p> - Albert, as well as General Schreckenstein, was much affected. He was - losing his favourite child, whose opening intelligence had already begun - to display a marked resemblance to his own—an adoring pupil, who, in - a few years, might have become an almost adequate companion. An ironic - fate had determined that the daughter who was taken from him should be - sympathetic, clever, interested in the arts and sciences, and endowed with - a strong taste for memoranda, while not a single one of these qualities - could be discovered in the son who remained. For certainly the Prince of - Wales did not take after his father. Victoria's prayer had been - unanswered, and with each succeeding year it became more obvious that - Bertie was a true scion of the House of Brunswick. But these evidences of - innate characteristics only served to redouble the efforts of his parents; - it still might not be too late to incline the young branch, by ceaseless - pressure and careful fastenings, to grow in the proper direction. - Everything was tried. The boy was sent on a continental tour with a picked - body of tutors, but the results were unsatisfactory. At his father's - request he kept a diary which, on his return, was inspected by the Prince. - It was found to be distressingly meagre: what a multitude of highly - interesting reflections might have been arranged under the heading: "The - First Prince of Wales visiting the Pope!" But there was not a single one. - "Le jeune prince plaisit a tout le monde," old Metternich reported to - Guizot, "mais avait l'air embarrasse et tres triste." On his seventeenth - birthday a memorandum was drawn up over the names of the Queen and the - Prince informing their eldest son that he was now entering upon the period - of manhood, and directing him henceforward to perform the duties of a - Christian gentleman. "Life is composed of duties," said the memorandum, - "and in the due, punctual and cheerful performance of them the true - Christian, true soldier, and true gentleman is recognised... A new sphere - of life will open for you in which you will have to be taught what to do - and what not to do, a subject requiring study more important than any in - which you have hitherto been engaged." On receipt of the memorandum Bertie - burst into tears. At the same time another memorandum was drawn up, headed - "confidential: for the guidance of the gentlemen appointed to attend on - the Prince of Wales." This long and elaborate document laid down "certain - principles" by which the "conduct and demeanour" of the gentlemen were to - be regulated "and which it is thought may conduce to the benefit of the - Prince of Wales." "The qualities which distinguish a gentleman in - society," continued this remarkable paper, "are:— - </p> - <p> - (1) His appearance, his deportment and dress. - </p> - <p> - (2) The character of his relations with, and treatment of, others. - </p> - <p> - (3) His desire and power to acquit himself creditably in conversation or - whatever is the occupation of the society with which he mixes." - </p> - <p> - A minute and detailed analysis of these subheadings followed, filling - several pages, and the memorandum ended with a final exhortation to the - gentlemen: "If they will duly appreciate the responsibility of their - position, and taking the points above laid down as the outline, will - exercise their own good sense in acting UPON ALL OCCASIONS all upon these - principles, thinking no point of detail too minute to be important, but - maintaining one steady consistent line of conduct they may render - essential service to the young Prince and justify the flattering selection - made by the royal parents." A year later the young Prince was sent to - Oxford, where the greatest care was taken that he should not mix with the - undergraduates. Yes, everything had been tried—everything... with - one single exception. The experiment had never been made of letting Bertie - enjoy himself. But why should it have been? "Life is composed of duties." - What possible place could there be for enjoyment in the existence of a - Prince of Wales? - </p> - <p> - The same year which deprived Albert of the Princess Royal brought him - another and a still more serious loss. The Baron had paid his last visit - to England. For twenty years, as he himself said in a letter to the King - of the Belgians, he had performed "the laborious and exhausting office of - a paternal friend and trusted adviser" to the Prince and the Queen. He was - seventy; he was tired, physically and mentally; it was time to go. He - returned to his home in Coburg, exchanging, once for all, the momentous - secrecies of European statecraft for the little-tattle of a provincial - capital and the gossip of family life. In his stiff chair by the fire he - nodded now over old stories—not of emperors and generals—but - of neighbours and relatives and the domestic adventures of long ago—the - burning of his father's library—and the goat that ran upstairs to - his sister's room and ran twice round the table and then ran down again. - Dyspepsia and depression still attacked him; but, looking back over his - life, he was not dissatisfied. His conscience was clear. "I have worked as - long as I had strength to work," he said, "and for a purpose no one can - impugn. The consciousness of this is my reward—the only one which I - desired to earn." - </p> - <p> - Apparently, indeed, his "purpose" had been accomplished. By his wisdom, - his patience, and his example he had brought about, in the fullness of - time, the miraculous metamorphosis of which he had dreamed. The Prince was - his creation. An indefatigable toiler, presiding, for the highest ends, - over a great nation—that was his achievement; and he looked upon his - work and it was good. But had the Baron no misgivings? Did he never wonder - whether, perhaps, he might have accomplished not too little but too much? - How subtle and how dangerous are the snares which fate lays for the - wariest of men! Albert, certainly, seemed to be everything that Stockmar - could have wished—virtuous, industrious, persevering, intelligent. - And yet—why was it—all was not well with him? He was sick at - heart. - </p> - <p> - For in spite of everything he had never reached to happiness. His work, - for which at last he came to crave with an almost morbid appetite, was a - solace and not a cure; the dragon of his dissatisfaction devoured with - dark relish that ever-growing tribute of laborious days and nights; but it - was hungry still. The causes of his melancholy were hidden, mysterious, - unanalysable perhaps—too deeply rooted in the innermost recesses of - his temperament for the eye of reason to apprehend. There were - contradictions in his nature, which, to some of those who knew him best, - made him seem an inexplicable enigma: he was severe and gentle; he was - modest and scornful; he longed for affection and he was cold. He was - lonely, not merely with the loneliness of exile but with the loneliness of - conscious and unrecognised superiority. He had the pride, at once resigned - and overweening, of a doctrinaire. And yet to say that he was simply a - doctrinaire would be a false description; for the pure doctrinaire - rejoices always in an internal contentment, and Albert was very far from - doing that. There was something that he wanted and that he could never - get. What was it? Some absolute, some ineffable sympathy? Some - extraordinary, some sublime success? Possibly, it was a mixture of both. - To dominate and to be understood! To conquer, by the same triumphant - influence, the submission and the appreciation of men—that would be - worth while indeed! But, to such imaginations, he saw too clearly how - faint were the responses of his actual environment. Who was there who - appreciated him, really and truly? Who COULD appreciate him in England? - And, if the gentle virtue of an inward excellence availed so little, could - he expect more from the hard ways of skill and force? The terrible land of - his exile loomed before him a frigid, an impregnable mass. Doubtless he - had made some slight impression: it was true that he had gained the - respect of his fellow workers, that his probity, his industry, his - exactitude, had been recognised, that he was a highly influential, an - extremely important man. But how far, how very far, was all this from the - goal of his ambitions! How feeble and futile his efforts seemed against - the enormous coagulation of dullness, of folly, of slackness, of - ignorance, of confusion that confronted him! He might have the strength or - the ingenuity to make some small change for the better here or there—to - rearrange some detail, to abolish some anomaly, to insist upon some - obvious reform; but the heart of the appalling organism remained - untouched. England lumbered on, impervious and self-satisfied, in her old - intolerable course. He threw himself across the path of the monster with - rigid purpose and set teeth, but he was brushed aside. Yes! even - Palmerston was still unconquered—was still there to afflict him with - his jauntiness, his muddle-headedness, his utter lack of principle. It was - too much. Neither nature nor the Baron had given him a sanguine spirit; - the seeds of pessimism, once lodged within him, flourished in a propitious - soil. He - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - "questioned things, and did not find - One that would answer to his mind; - And all the world appeared unkind." -</pre> - <p> - He believed that he was a failure and he began to despair. - </p> - <p> - Yet Stockmar had told him that he must "never relax," and he never would. - He would go on, working to the utmost and striving for the highest, to the - bitter end. His industry grew almost maniacal. Earlier and earlier was the - green lamp lighted; more vast grew the correspondence; more searching the - examination of the newspapers; the interminable memoranda more - punctilious, analytical, and precise. His very recreations became duties. - He enjoyed himself by time-table, went deer-stalking with meticulous - gusto, and made puns at lunch—it was the right thing to do. The - mechanism worked with astonishing efficiency, but it never rested and it - was never oiled. In dry exactitude the innumerable cog-wheels perpetually - revolved. No, whatever happened, the Prince would not relax; he had - absorbed the doctrines of Stockmar too thoroughly. He knew what was right, - and, at all costs, he would pursue it. That was certain. But alas! in this - our life what are the certainties? "In nothing be over-zealous!" says an - old Greek. "The due measure in all the works of man is best. For often one - who zealously pushes towards some excellence, though he be pursuing a - gain, is really being led utterly astray by the will of some Power, which - makes those things that are evil seem to him good, and those things seem - to him evil that are for his advantage." Surely, both the Prince and the - Baron might have learnt something from the frigid wisdom of Theognis. - </p> - <p> - Victoria noticed that her husband sometimes seemed to be depressed and - overworked. She tried to cheer him up. Realising uneasily that he was - still regarded as a foreigner, she hoped that by conferring upon him the - title of Prince Consort (1857) she would improve his position in the - country. "The Queen has a right to claim that her husband should be an - Englishman," she wrote. But unfortunately, in spite of the Royal Letters - Patent, Albert remained as foreign as before; and as the years passed his - dejection deepened. She worked with him, she watched over him, she walked - with him through the woods at Osborne, while he whistled to the - nightingales, as he had whistled once at Rosenau so long ago. When his - birthday came round, she took the greatest pains to choose him presents - that he would really like. In 1858, when he was thirty-nine, she gave him - "a picture of Beatrice, life-size, in oil, by Horsley, a complete - collection of photographic views of Gotha and the country round, which I - had taken by Bedford, and a paper-weight of Balmoral granite and deers' - teeth, designed by Vicky." Albert was of course delighted, and his - merriment at the family gathering was more pronounced than ever: and - yet... what was there that was wrong? - </p> - <p> - No doubt it was his health. He was wearing himself out in the service of - the country; and certainly his constitution, as Stockmar had perceived - from the first, was ill-adapted to meet a serious strain. He was easily - upset; he constantly suffered from minor ailments. His appearance in - itself was enough to indicate the infirmity of his physical powers. The - handsome youth of twenty years since with the flashing eyes and the soft - complexion had grown into a sallow, tired-looking man, whose body, in its - stoop and its loose fleshiness, betrayed the sedentary labourer, and whose - head was quite bald on the top. Unkind critics, who had once compared - Albert to an operatic tenor, might have remarked that there was something - of the butler about him now. Beside Victoria, he presented a painful - contrast. She, too, was stout, but it was with the plumpness of a vigorous - matron; and an eager vitality was everywhere visible—in her - energetic bearing, her protruding, enquiring glances, her small, fat, - capable, and commanding hands. If only, by some sympathetic magic, she - could have conveyed into that portly, flabby figure, that desiccated and - discouraged brain, a measure of the stamina and the self-assurance which - were so pre-eminently hers! - </p> - <p> - But suddenly she was reminded that there were other perils besides those - of ill-health. During a visit to Coburg in 1860, the Prince was very - nearly killed in a carriage accident. He escaped with a few cuts and - bruises; but Victoria's alarm was extreme, though she concealed it. "It is - when the Queen feels most deeply," she wrote afterwards, "that she always - appears calmest, and she could not and dared not allow herself to speak of - what might have been, or even to admit to herself (and she cannot and dare - not now) the entire danger, for her head would turn!" Her agitation, in - fact, was only surpassed by her thankfulness to God. She felt, she said, - that she could not rest "without doing something to mark permanently her - feelings," and she decided that she would endow a charity in Coburg. - "L1,000, or even L2,000, given either at once, or in instalments yearly, - would not, in the Queen's opinion, be too much." Eventually, the smaller - sum having been fixed upon, it was invested in a trust, called the - "Victoria-Stift," in the name of the Burgomaster and chief clergyman of - Coburg, who were directed to distribute the interest yearly among a - certain number of young men and women of exemplary character belonging to - the humbler ranks of life. - </p> - <p> - Shortly afterwards the Queen underwent, for the first time in her life, - the actual experience of close personal loss. Early in 1861 the Duchess of - Kent was taken seriously ill, and in March she died. The event overwhelmed - Victoria. With a morbid intensity, she filled her diary for pages with - minute descriptions of her mother's last hours, her dissolution, and her - corpse, interspersed with vehement apostrophes, and the agitated - outpourings of emotional reflection. In the grief of the present the - disagreements of the past were totally forgotten. It was the horror and - the mystery of Death—Death, present and actual—that seized - upon the imagination of the Queen. Her whole being, so instinct with - vitality, recoiled in agony from the grim spectacle of the triumph of that - awful power. Her own mother, with whom she had lived so closely and so - long that she had become a part almost of her existence, had fallen into - nothingness before her very eyes! She tried to forget, but she could not. - Her lamentations continued with a strange abundance, a strange - persistency. It was almost as if, by some mysterious and unconscious - precognition, she realised that for her, in an especial manner, that - grisly Majesty had a dreadful dart in store. - </p> - <p> - For indeed, before the year was out, a far more terrible blow was to fall - upon her. Albert, who had for long been suffering from sleeplessness, - went, on a cold and drenching day towards the end of November, to inspect - the buildings for the new Military Academy at Sandhurst. On his return, it - was clear that the fatigue and exposure to which he had been subjected had - seriously affected his health. He was attacked by rheumatism, his - sleeplessness continued, and he complained that he felt thoroughly unwell. - Three days later a painful duty obliged him to visit Cambridge. The Prince - of Wales, who had been placed at that University in the previous year, was - behaving in such a manner that a parental visit and a parental admonition - had become necessary. The disappointed father, suffering in mind and body, - carried through his task; but, on his return journey to Windsor, he caught - a fatal chill. During the next week he gradually grew weaker and more - miserable. Yet, depressed and enfeebled as he was, he continued to work. - It so happened that at that very moment a grave diplomatic crisis had - arisen. Civil war had broken out in America, and it seemed as if England, - owing to a violent quarrel with the Northern States, was upon the point of - being drawn into the conflict. A severe despatch by Lord John Russell was - submitted to the Queen; and the Prince perceived that, if it was sent off - unaltered, war would be the almost inevitable consequence. At seven - o'clock on the morning of December 1, he rose from his bed, and with a - quavering hand wrote a series of suggestions for the alteration of the - draft, by which its language might be softened, and a way left open for a - peaceful solution of the question. These changes were accepted by the - Government, and war was averted. It was the Prince's last memorandum. - </p> - <p> - He had always declared that he viewed the prospect of death with - equanimity. "I do not cling to life," he had once said to Victoria. "You - do; but I set no store by it." And then he had added: "I am sure, if I had - a severe illness, I should give up at once, I should not struggle for - life. I have no tenacity of life." He had judged correctly. Before he had - been ill many days, he told a friend that he was convinced he would not - recover. He sank and sank. Nevertheless, if his case had been properly - understood and skilfully treated from the first, he might conceivably have - been saved; but the doctors failed to diagnose his symptoms; and it is - noteworthy that his principal physician was Sir James Clark. When it was - suggested that other advice should be taken, Sir James pooh-poohed the - idea: "there was no cause for alarm," he said. But the strange illness - grew worse. At last, after a letter of fierce remonstrance from - Palmerston, Dr. Watson was sent for; and Dr. Watson saw at once that he - had come too late The Prince was in the grip of typhoid fever. "I think - that everything so far is satisfactory," said Sir James Clark.(*) - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - (*) Clarendon, II, 253-4: "One cannot speak with certainty; - but it is horrible to think that such a life MAY have been - sacrificed to Sir J. Clark's selfish jealousy of every - member of his profession." The Earl of Clarendon to the - Duchess of Manchester, December 17, 1861. -</pre> - <p> - The restlessness and the acute suffering of the earlier days gave place to - a settled torpor and an ever—deepening gloom. Once the failing - patient asked for music—"a fine chorale at a distance;" and a piano - having been placed in the adjoining room, Princess Alice played on it some - of Luther's hymns, after which the Prince repeated "The Rock of Ages." - Sometimes his mind wandered; sometimes the distant past came rushing upon - him; he heard the birds in the early morning, and was at Rosenau again, a - boy. Or Victoria would come and read to him "Peveril of the Peak," and he - showed that he could follow the story, and then she would bend over him, - and he would murmur "liebes Frauchen" and "gutes Weibchen," stroking her - cheek. Her distress and her agitation were great, but she was not - seriously frightened. Buoyed up by her own abundant energies, she would - not believe that Albert's might prove unequal to the strain. She refused - to face such a hideous possibility. She declined to see Dr. Watson. Why - should she? Had not Sir James Clark assured her that all would be well? - Only two days before the end, which was seen now to be almost inevitable - by everyone about her, she wrote, full of apparent confidence, to the King - of the Belgians: "I do not sit up with him at night," she said, "as I - could be of no use; and there is nothing to cause alarm." The Princess - Alice tried to tell her the truth, but her hopefulness would not be - daunted. On the morning of December 14, Albert, just as she had expected, - seemed to be better; perhaps the crisis was over. But in the course of the - day there was a serious relapse. Then at last she allowed herself to see - that she was standing on the edge of an appalling gulf. The whole family - was summoned, and, one after another, the children took a silent farewell - of their father. "It was a terrible moment," Victoria wrote in her diary, - "but, thank God! I was able to command myself, and to be perfectly calm, - and remained sitting by his side." He murmured something, but she could - not hear what it was; she thought he was speaking in French. Then all at - once he began to arrange his hair, "just as he used to do when well and he - was dressing." "Es kleines Frauchen," she whispered to him; and he seemed - to understand. For a moment, towards the evening, she went into another - room, but was immediately called back; she saw at a glance that a ghastly - change had taken place. As she knelt by the bed, he breathed deeply, - breathed gently, breathed at last no more. His features became perfectly - rigid; she shrieked one long wild shriek that rang through the - terror-stricken castle and understood that she had lost him for ever. - </p> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER VII. WIDOWHOOD - </h2> - <h3> - I - </h3> - <p> - The death of the Prince Consort was the central turning-point in the - history of Queen Victoria. She herself felt that her true life had ceased - with her husband's, and that the remainder of her days upon earth was of a - twilight nature—an epilogue to a drama that was done. Nor is it - possible that her biographer should escape a similar impression. For him, - too, there is a darkness over the latter half of that long career. The - first forty—two years of the Queen's life are illuminated by a great - and varied quantity of authentic information. With Albert's death a veil - descends. Only occasionally, at fitful and disconnected intervals, does it - lift for a moment or two; a few main outlines, a few remarkable details - may be discerned; the rest is all conjecture and ambiguity. Thus, though - the Queen survived her great bereavement for almost as many years as she - had lived before it, the chronicle of those years can bear no proportion - to the tale of her earlier life. We must be content in our ignorance with - a brief and summary relation. - </p> - <p> - The sudden removal of the Prince was not merely a matter of overwhelming - personal concern to Victoria; it was an event of national, of European - importance. He was only forty-two, and in the ordinary course of nature he - might have been expected to live at least thirty years longer. Had he done - so it can hardly be doubted that the whole development of the English - polity would have been changed. Already at the time of his death he filled - a unique place in English public life; already among the inner circle of - politicians he was accepted as a necessary and useful part of the - mechanism of the State. Lord Clarendon, for instance, spoke of his death - as "a national calamity of far greater importance than the public dream - of," and lamented the loss of his "sagacity and foresight," which, he - declared, would have been "more than ever valuable" in the event of an - American war. And, as time went on, the Prince's influence must have - enormously increased. For, in addition to his intellectual and moral - qualities, he enjoyed, by virtue of his position, one supreme advantage - which every other holder of high office in the country was without: he was - permanent. Politicians came and went, but the Prince was perpetually - installed at the centre of affairs. Who can doubt that, towards the end of - the century, such a man, grown grey in the service of the nation, - virtuous, intelligent, and with the unexampled experience of a whole - life-time of government, would have acquired an extraordinary prestige? - If, in his youth, he had been able to pit the Crown against the mighty - Palmerston and to come off with equal honours from the contest, of what - might he not have been capable in his old age? What Minister, however - able, however popular, could have withstood the wisdom, the - irreproachability, the vast prescriptive authority, of the venerable - Prince? It is easy to imagine how, under such a ruler, an attempt might - have been made to convert England into a State as exactly organised, as - elaborately trained, as efficiently equipped, and as autocratically - controlled, as Prussia herself. Then perhaps, eventually, under some - powerful leader—a Gladstone or a Bright—the democratic forces - in the country might have rallied together, and a struggle might have - followed in which the Monarchy would have been shaken to its foundations. - Or, on the other hand, Disraeli's hypothetical prophecy might have come - true. "With Prince Albert," he said, "we have buried our... sovereign. - This German Prince has governed England for twenty-one years with a wisdom - and energy such as none of our kings have ever shown. If he had outlived - some of our 'old stagers' he would have given us the blessings of absolute - government." - </p> - <p> - The English Constitution—that indescribable entity—is a living - thing, growing with the growth of men, and assuming ever-varying forms in - accordance with the subtle and complex laws of human character. It is the - child of wisdom and chance. The wise men of 1688 moulded it into the shape - we know, but the chance that George I could not speak English gave it one - of its essential peculiarities—the system of a Cabinet independent - of the Crown and subordinate to the Prime Minister. The wisdom of Lord - Grey saved it from petrifaction and destruction, and set it upon the path - of Democracy. Then chance intervened once more; a female sovereign - happened to marry an able and pertinacious man; and it seemed likely that - an element which had been quiescent within it for years—the element - of irresponsible administrative power—was about to become its - predominant characteristic and to change completely the direction of its - growth. But what chance gave chance took away. The Consort perished in his - prime; and the English Constitution, dropping the dead limb with hardly a - tremor, continued its mysterious life as if he had never been. - </p> - <p> - One human being, and one alone, felt the full force of what had happened. - The Baron, by his fireside at Coburg, suddenly saw the tremendous fabric - of his creation crash down into sheer and irremediable ruin. Albert was - gone, and he had lived in vain. Even his blackest hypochondria had never - envisioned quite so miserable a catastrophe. Victoria wrote to him, - visited him, tried to console him by declaring with passionate conviction - that she would carry on her husband's work. He smiled a sad smile and - looked into the fire. Then he murmured that he was going where Albert was—that - he would not be long. He shrank into himself. His children clustered round - him and did their best to comfort him, but it was useless: the Baron's - heart was broken. He lingered for eighteen months, and then, with his - pupil, explored the shadow and the dust. - </p> - <p> - II - </p> - <p> - With appalling suddenness Victoria had exchanged the serene radiance of - happiness for the utter darkness of woe. In the first dreadful moments - those about her had feared that she might lose her reason, but the iron - strain within her held firm, and in the intervals between the intense - paroxysms of grief it was observed that the Queen was calm. She - remembered, too, that Albert had always disapproved of exaggerated - manifestations of feeling, and her one remaining desire was to do nothing - but what he would have wished. Yet there were moments when her royal - anguish would brook no restraints. One day she sent for the Duchess of - Sutherland, and, leading her to the Prince's room, fell prostrate before - his clothes in a flood of weeping, while she adjured the Duchess to tell - her whether the beauty of Albert's character had ever been surpassed. At - other times a feeling akin to indignation swept over her. "The poor - fatherless baby of eight months," she wrote to the King of the Belgians, - "is now the utterly heartbroken and crushed widow of forty-two! My LIFE as - a HAPPY one is ENDED! The world is gone for ME!... Oh! to be cut off in - the prime of life—to see our pure, happy, quiet, domestic life, - which ALONE enabled me to bear my MUCH disliked position, CUT OFF at - forty-two—when I HAD hoped with such instinctive certainty that God - never WOULD part us, and would let us grow old together (though HE always - talked of the shortness of life)—is TOO AWFUL, too cruel!" The tone - of outraged Majesty seems to be discernible. Did she wonder in her heart - of hearts how the Deity could have dared? - </p> - <p> - But all other emotions gave way before her overmastering determination to - continue, absolutely unchanged, and for the rest of her life on earth, her - reverence, her obedience, her idolatry. "I am anxious to repeat ONE - thing," she told her uncle, "and THAT ONE is my firm resolve, my - IRREVOCABLE DECISION, viz., that HIS wishes—HIS plans—about - everything, HIS views about EVERY thing are to be MY LAW! And NO HUMAN - POWER will make me swerve from WHAT HE decided and wished." She grew - fierce, she grew furious, at the thought of any possible intrusion between - her and her desire. Her uncle was coming to visit her, and it flashed upon - her that HE might try to interfere with her and seek to "rule the roost" - as of old. She would give him a hint. "I am ALSO DETERMINED," she wrote, - "that NO ONE person—may HE be ever so good, ever so devoted among my - servants—is to lead or guide or dictate TO ME. I know HOW he would - disapprove it... Though miserably weak and utterly shattered, my spirit - rises when I think ANY wish or plan of his is to be touched or changed, or - I am to be MADE TO DO anything." She ended her letter in grief and - affection. She was, she said, his "ever wretched but devoted child, - Victoria R." And then she looked at the date: it was the 24th of December. - An agonising pang assailed her, and she dashed down a postcript—"What - a Xmas! I won't think of it." - </p> - <p> - At first, in the tumult of her distresses, she declared that she could not - see her Ministers, and the Princess Alice, assisted by Sir Charles Phipps, - the keeper of the Privy Purse, performed, to the best of her ability, the - functions of an intermediary. After a few weeks, however, the Cabinet, - through Lord John Russell, ventured to warn the Queen that this could not - continue. She realised that they were right: Albert would have agreed with - them; and so she sent for the Prime Minister. But when Lord Palmerston - arrived at Osborne, in the pink of health, brisk, with his whiskers - freshly dyed, and dressed in a brown overcoat, light grey trousers, green - gloves, and blue studs, he did not create a very good impression. - </p> - <p> - Nevertheless, she had grown attached to her old enemy, and the thought of - a political change filled her with agitated apprehensions. The Government, - she knew, might fall at any moment; she felt she could not face such an - eventuality; and therefore, six months after the death of the Prince, she - took the unprecedented step of sending a private message to Lord Derby, - the leader of the Opposition, to tell him that she was not in a fit state - of mind or body to undergo the anxiety of a change of Government, and that - if he turned the present Ministers out of office it would be at the risk - of sacrificing her life—or her reason. When this message reached - Lord Derby he was considerably surprised. "Dear me!" was his cynical - comment. "I didn't think she was so fond of them as THAT." - </p> - <p> - Though the violence of her perturbations gradually subsided, her - cheerfulness did not return. For months, for years, she continued in - settled gloom. Her life became one of almost complete seclusion. Arrayed - in thickest crepe, she passed dolefully from Windsor to Osborne, from - Osborne to Balmoral. Rarely visiting the capital, refusing to take any - part in the ceremonies of state, shutting herself off from the slightest - intercourse with society, she became almost as unknown to her subjects as - some potentate of the East. They might murmur, but they did not - understand. What had she to do with empty shows and vain enjoyments? No! - She was absorbed by very different preoccupations. She was the devoted - guardian of a sacred trust. Her place was in the inmost shrine of the - house of mourning—where she alone had the right to enter, where she - could feel the effluence of a mysterious presence, and interpret, however - faintly and feebly, the promptings of a still living soul. That, and that - only was her glorious, her terrible duty. For terrible indeed it was. As - the years passed her depression seemed to deepen and her loneliness to - grow more intense. "I am on a dreary sad pinnacle of solitary grandeur," - she said. Again and again she felt that she could bear her situation no - longer—that she would sink under the strain. And then, instantly, - that Voice spoke: and she braced herself once more to perform, with minute - conscientiousness, her grim and holy task. - </p> - <p> - Above all else, what she had to do was to make her own the master-impulse - of Albert's life—she must work, as he had worked, in the service of - the country. That vast burden of toil which he had taken upon his - shoulders it was now for her to bear. She assumed the gigantic load; and - naturally she staggered under it. While he had lived, she had worked, - indeed, with regularity and conscientiousness; but it was work made easy, - made delicious, by his care, his forethought, his advice, and his - infallibility. The mere sound of his voice, asking her to sign a paper, - had thrilled her; in such a presence she could have laboured gladly for - ever. But now there was a hideous change. Now there were no neat piles and - docketings under the green lamp; now there were no simple explanations of - difficult matters; now there was nobody to tell her what was right and - what was wrong. She had her secretaries, no doubt: there were Sir Charles - Phipps, and General Grey, and Sir Thomas Biddulph; and they did their - best. But they were mere subordinates: the whole weight of initiative and - responsibility rested upon her alone. For so it had to be. "I am - DETERMINED"—had she not declared it?—"that NO ONE person is to - lead or guide or dictate to ME;" anything else would be a betrayal of her - trust. She would follow the Prince in all things. He had refused to - delegate authority; he had examined into every detail with his own eyes; - he had made it a rule never to sign a paper without having first, not - merely read it, but made notes on it too. She would do the same. She sat - from morning till night surrounded by huge heaps of despatch—boxes, - reading and writing at her desk—at her desk, alas! which stood alone - now in the room. - </p> - <p> - Within two years of Albert's death a violent disturbance in foreign - politics put Victoria's faithfulness to a crucial test. The fearful - Schleswig-Holstein dispute, which had been smouldering for more than a - decade, showed signs of bursting out into conflagration. The complexity of - the questions at issue was indescribable. "Only three people," said - Palmerston, "have ever really understood the Schleswig-Holstein business—the - Prince Consort, who is dead—a German professor, who has gone mad—and - I, who have forgotten all about it." But, though the Prince might be dead, - had he not left a vicegerent behind him? Victoria threw herself into the - seething embroilment with the vigour of inspiration. She devoted hours - daily to the study of the affair in all its windings; but she had a clue - through the labyrinth: whenever the question had been discussed, Albert, - she recollected it perfectly, had always taken the side of Prussia. Her - course was clear. She became an ardent champion of the Prussian point of - view. It was a legacy from the Prince, she said. She did not realise that - the Prussia of the Prince's day was dead, and that a new Prussia, the - Prussia of Bismarck, was born. Perhaps Palmerston, with his queer - prescience, instinctively apprehended the new danger; at any rate, he and - Lord John were agreed upon the necessity of supporting Denmark against - Prussia's claims. But opinion was sharply divided, not only in the country - but in the Cabinet. For eighteen months the controversy raged; while the - Queen, with persistent vehemence, opposed the Prime Minister and the - Foreign Secretary. When at last the final crisis arose—when it - seemed possible that England would join forces with Denmark in a war - against Prussia—Victoria's agitation grew febrile in its intensity. - Towards her German relatives she preserved a discreet appearance of - impartiality; but she poured out upon her Ministers a flood of appeals, - protests, and expostulations. She invoked the sacred cause of Peace. "The - only chance of preserving peace for Europe," she wrote, "is by not - assisting Denmark, who has brought this entirely upon herself. The Queen - suffers much, and her nerves are more and more totally shattered... But - though all this anxiety is wearing her out, it will not shake her firm - purpose of resisting any attempt to involve this country in a mad and - useless combat." She was, she declared, "prepared to make a stand," even - if the resignation of the Foreign Secretary should follow. "The Queen," - she told Lord Granville, "is completely exhausted by the anxiety and - suspense, and misses her beloved husband's help, advice, support, and love - in an overwhelming manner." She was so worn out by her efforts for peace - that she could "hardly hold up her head or hold her pen." England did not - go to war, and Denmark was left to her fate; but how far the attitude of - the Queen contributed to this result it is impossible, with our present - knowledge, to say. On the whole, however, it seems probable that the - determining factor in the situation was the powerful peace party in the - Cabinet rather than the imperious and pathetic pressure of Victoria. - </p> - <p> - It is, at any rate, certain that the Queen's enthusiasm for the sacred - cause of peace was short-lived. Within a few months her mind had - completely altered. Her eyes were opened to the true nature of Prussia, - whose designs upon Austria were about to culminate in the Seven Weeks' - War. Veering precipitately from one extreme to the other, she now urged - her Ministers to interfere by force of arms in support of Austria. But she - urged in vain. - </p> - <p> - Her political activity, no more than her social seclusion, was approved by - the public. As the years passed, and the royal mourning remained as - unrelieved as ever, the animadversions grew more general and more severe. - It was observed that the Queen's protracted privacy not only cast a gloom - over high society, not only deprived the populace of its pageantry, but - also exercised a highly deleterious effect upon the dressmaking, - millinery, and hosiery trades. This latter consideration carried great - weight. At last, early in 1864, the rumour spread that Her Majesty was - about to go out of mourning, and there was much rejoicing in the - newspapers; but unfortunately it turned out that the rumour was quite - without foundation. Victoria, with her own hand, wrote a letter to The - Times to say so. "This idea," she declared, "cannot be too explicitly - contradicted. The Queen," the letter continued, "heartily appreciates the - desire of her subjects to see her, and whatever she CAN do to gratify them - in this loyal and affectionate wish, she WILL do... But there are other - and higher duties than those of mere representation which are now thrown - upon the Queen, alone and unassisted—duties which she cannot neglect - without injury to the public service, which weigh unceasingly upon her, - overwhelming her with work and anxiety." The justification might have been - considered more cogent had it not been known that those "other and higher - duties" emphasised by the Queen consisted for the most part of an attempt - to counteract the foreign policy of Lord Palmerston and Lord John Russell. - A large section—perhaps a majority—of the nation were violent - partisans of Denmark in the Schleswig-Holstein quarrel; and Victoria's - support of Prussia was widely denounced. A wave of unpopularity, which - reminded old observers of the period preceding the Queen's marriage more - than twenty-five years before, was beginning to rise. The press was rude; - Lord Ellenborough attacked the Queen in the House of Lords; there were - curious whispers in high quarters that she had had thoughts of abdicating—whispers - followed by regrets that she had not done so. Victoria, outraged and - injured, felt that she was misunderstood. She was profoundly unhappy. - After Lord Ellenborough's speech, General Grey declared that he "had never - seen the Queen so completely upset." "Oh, how fearful it is," she herself - wrote to Lord Granville, "to be suspected—uncheered—unguided - and unadvised—and how alone the poor Queen feels!" Nevertheless, - suffer as she might, she was as resolute as ever; she would not move by a - hair's breadth from the course that a supreme obligation marked out for - her; she would be faithful to the end. - </p> - <p> - And so, when Schleswig-Holstein was forgotten, and even the image of the - Prince had begun to grow dim in the fickle memories of men, the solitary - watcher remained immutably concentrated at her peculiar task. The world's - hostility, steadily increasing, was confronted and outfaced by the - impenetrable weeds of Victoria. Would the world never understand? It was - not mere sorrow that kept her so strangely sequestered; it was devotion, - it was self-immolation; it was the laborious legacy of love. Unceasingly - the pen moved over the black-edged paper. The flesh might be weak, but - that vast burden must be borne. And fortunately, if the world would not - understand, there were faithful friends who did. There was Lord Granville, - and there was kind Mr. Theodore Martin. Perhaps Mr. Martin, who was so - clever, would find means to make people realise the facts. She would send - him a letter, pointing out her arduous labours and the difficulties under - which she struggled, and then he might write an article for one of the - magazines. "It is not," she told him in 1863, "the Queen's SORROW that - keeps her secluded. It is her OVERWHELMING WORK and her health, which is - greatly shaken by her sorrow, and the totally overwhelming amount of work - and responsibility—work which she feels really wears her out. Alice - Helps was wonderfully struck at the Queen's room; and if Mrs. Martin will - look at it, she can tell Mr. Martin what surrounds her. From the hour she - gets out of bed till she gets into it again there is work, work, work,—letter-boxes, - questions, etc., which are dreadfully exhausting—and if she had not - comparative rest and quiet in the evening she would most likely not be - ALIVE. Her brain is constantly overtaxed." It was too true. - </p> - <p> - III - </p> - <p> - To carry on Albert's work—that was her first duty; but there was - another, second only to that, and yet nearer, if possible, to her heart—to - impress the true nature of his genius and character upon the minds of her - subjects. She realised that during his life he had not been properly - appreciated; the full extent of his powers, the supreme quality of his - goodness, had been necessarily concealed; but death had removed the need - of barriers, and now her husband, in his magnificent entirety, should - stand revealed to all. She set to work methodically. She directed Sir - Arthur Helps to bring out a collection of the Prince's speeches and - addresses, and the weighty tome appeared in 1862. Then she commanded - General Grey to write an account of the Prince's early years—from - his birth to his marriage; she herself laid down the design of the book, - contributed a number of confidential documents, and added numerous notes; - General Grey obeyed, and the work was completed in 1866. But the principal - part of the story was still untold, and Mr. Martin was forthwith - instructed to write a complete biography of the Prince Consort. Mr. Martin - laboured for fourteen years. The mass of material with which he had to - deal was almost incredible, but he was extremely industrious, and he - enjoyed throughout the gracious assistance of Her Majesty. The first bulky - volume was published in 1874; four others slowly followed; so that it was - not until 1880 that the monumental work was finished. - </p> - <p> - Mr. Martin was rewarded by a knighthood; and yet it was sadly evident that - neither Sir Theodore nor his predecessors had achieved the purpose which - the Queen had in view. Perhaps she was unfortunate in her coadjutors, but, - in reality, the responsibility for the failure must lie with Victoria - herself. Sir Theodore and the others faithfully carried out the task which - she had set them—faithfully put before the public the very image of - Albert that filled her own mind. The fatal drawback was that the public - did not find that image attractive. Victoria's emotional nature, far more - remarkable for vigour than for subtlety, rejecting utterly the - qualifications which perspicuity, or humour, might suggest, could be - satisfied with nothing but the absolute and the categorical. When she - disliked she did so with an unequivocal emphasis which swept the object of - her repugnance at once and finally outside the pale of consideration; and - her feelings of affection were equally unmitigated. In the case of Albert - her passion for superlatives reached its height. To have conceived of him - as anything short of perfect—perfect in virtue, in wisdom, in - beauty, in all the glories and graces of man—would have been an - unthinkable blasphemy: perfect he was, and perfect he must be shown to - have been. And so, Sir Arthur, Sir Theodore, and the General painted him. - In the circumstances, and under such supervision, to have done anything - else would have required talents considerably more distinguished than any - that those gentlemen possessed. But that was not all. By a curious - mischance Victoria was also able to press into her service another writer, - the distinction of whose talents was this time beyond a doubt. The Poet - Laureate, adopting, either from complaisance or conviction, the tone of - his sovereign, joined in the chorus, and endowed the royal formula with - the magical resonance of verse. This settled the matter. Henceforward it - was impossible to forget that Albert had worn the white flower of a - blameless life. - </p> - <p> - The result was doubly unfortunate. Victoria, disappointed and chagrined, - bore a grudge against her people for their refusal, in spite of all her - efforts, to rate her husband at his true worth. She did not understand - that the picture of an embodied perfection is distasteful to the majority - of mankind. The cause of this is not so much an envy of the perfect being - as a suspicion that he must be inhuman; and thus it happened that the - public, when it saw displayed for its admiration a figure resembling the - sugary hero of a moral story-book rather than a fellow man of flesh and - blood, turned away with a shrug, a smile, and a flippant ejaculation. But - in this the public was the loser as well as Victoria. For in truth Albert - was a far more interesting personage than the public dreamed. By a curious - irony an impeccable waxwork had been fixed by the Queen's love in the - popular imagination, while the creature whom it represented—the real - creature, so full of energy and stress and torment, so mysterious and so - unhappy, and so fallible and so very human—had altogether - disappeared. - </p> - <p> - IV - </p> - <p> - Words and books may be ambiguous memorials; but who can misinterpret the - visible solidity of bronze and stone? At Frogmore, near Windsor, where her - mother was buried, Victoria constructed, at the cost of L200,000, a vast - and elaborate mausoleum for herself and her husband. But that was a - private and domestic monument, and the Queen desired that wherever her - subjects might be gathered together they should be reminded of the Prince. - Her desire was gratified; all over the country—at Aberdeen, at - Perth, and at Wolverhampton—statues of the Prince were erected; and - the Queen, making an exception to her rule of retirement, unveiled them - herself. Nor did the capital lag behind. A month after the Prince's death - a meeting was called together at the Mansion House to discuss schemes for - honouring his memory. Opinions, however, were divided upon the subject. - Was a statue or an institution to be preferred? Meanwhile a subscription - was opened; an influential committee was appointed, and the Queen was - consulted as to her wishes in the matter. Her Majesty replied that she - would prefer a granite obelisk, with sculptures at the base, to an - institution. But the committee hesitated: an obelisk, to be worthy of the - name, must clearly be a monolith; and where was the quarry in England - capable of furnishing a granite block of the required size? It was true - that there was granite in Russian Finland; but the committee were advised - that it was not adapted to resist exposure to the open air. On the whole, - therefore, they suggested that a Memorial Hall should be erected, together - with a statue of the Prince. Her Majesty assented; but then another - difficulty arose. It was found that not more than L60,000 had been - subscribed—a sum insufficient to defray the double expense. The - Hall, therefore, was abandoned; a statue alone was to be erected; and - certain eminent architects were asked to prepare designs. Eventually the - committee had at their disposal a total sum of L120,000, since the public - subscribed another L10,000, while L50,000 was voted by Parliament. Some - years later a joint stock company was formed and built, as a private - speculation, the Albert Hall. - </p> - <p> - The architect whose design was selected, both by the committee and by the - Queen, was Mr. Gilbert Scott, whose industry, conscientiousness, and - genuine piety had brought him to the head of his profession. His lifelong - zeal for the Gothic style having given him a special prominence, his - handiwork was strikingly visible, not only in a multitude of original - buildings, but in most of the cathedrals of England. Protests, indeed, - were occasionally raised against his renovations; but Mr. Scott replied - with such vigour and unction in articles and pamphlets that not a Dean was - unconvinced, and he was permitted to continue his labours without - interruption. On one occasion, however, his devotion to Gothic had placed - him in an unpleasant situation. The Government offices in Whitehall were - to be rebuilt; Mr. Scott competed, and his designs were successful. - Naturally, they were in the Gothic style, combining "a certain squareness - and horizontality of outline" with pillar-mullions, gables, high-pitched - roofs, and dormers; and the drawings, as Mr. Scott himself observed, - "were, perhaps, the best ever sent in to a competition, or nearly so." - After the usual difficulties and delays the work was at last to be put in - hand, when there was a change of Government and Lord Palmerston became - Prime Minister. Lord Palmerston at once sent for Mr. Scott. "Well, Mr. - Scott," he said, in his jaunty way, "I can't have anything to do with this - Gothic style. I must insist on your making a design in the Italian manner, - which I am sure you can do very cleverly." Mr. Scott was appalled; the - style of the Italian renaissance was not only unsightly, it was positively - immoral, and he sternly refused to have anything to do with it. Thereupon - Lord Palmerston assumed a fatherly tone. "Quite true; a Gothic architect - can't be expected to put up a Classical building; I must find someone - else." This was intolerable, and Mr. Scott, on his return home, addressed - to the Prime Minister a strongly-worded letter, in which he dwelt upon his - position as an architect, upon his having won two European competitions, - his being an A.R.A., a gold medallist of the Institute, and a lecturer on - architecture at the Royal Academy; but it was useless—Lord - Palmerston did not even reply. It then occurred to Mr. Scott that, by a - judicious mixture, he might, while preserving the essential character of - the Gothic, produce a design which would give a superficial impression of - the Classical style. He did so, but no effect was produced upon Lord - Palmerston. The new design, he said, was "neither one thing nor 'tother—a - regular mongrel affair—and he would have nothing to do with it - either." After that Mr. Scott found it necessary to recruit for two months - at Scarborough, "with a course of quinine." He recovered his tone at last, - but only at the cost of his convictions. For the sake of his family he - felt that it was his unfortunate duty to obey the Prime Minister; and, - shuddering with horror, he constructed the Government offices in a - strictly Renaissance style. - </p> - <p> - Shortly afterwards Mr. Scott found some consolation in building the St. - Pancras Hotel in a style of his own. - </p> - <p> - And now another and yet more satisfactory task was his. "My idea in - designing the Memorial," he wrote, "was to erect a kind of ciborium to - protect a statue of the Prince; and its special characteristic was that - the ciborium was designed in some degree on the principles of the ancient - shrines. These shrines were models of imaginary buildings, such as had - never in reality been erected; and my idea was to realise one of these - imaginary structures with its precious materials, its inlaying, its - enamels, etc. etc." His idea was particularly appropriate since it chanced - that a similar conception, though in the reverse order of magnitude, had - occurred to the Prince himself, who had designed and executed several - silver cruet-stands upon the same model. At the Queen's request a site was - chosen in Kensington Gardens as near as possible to that of the Great - Exhibition; and in May, 1864, the first sod was turned. The work was long, - complicated, and difficult; a great number of workmen were employed, - besides several subsidiary sculptors and metal—workers under Mr. - Scott's direction, while at every stage sketches and models were submitted - to Her Majesty, who criticised all the details with minute care, and - constantly suggested improvements. The frieze, which encircled the base of - the monument, was in itself a very serious piece of work. "This," said Mr. - Scott, "taken as a whole, is perhaps one of the most laborious works of - sculpture ever undertaken, consisting, as it does, of a continuous range - of figure-sculpture of the most elaborate description, in the highest - alto-relievo of life-size, of more than 200 feet in length, containing - about 170 figures, and executed in the hardest marble which could be - procured." After three years of toil the memorial was still far from - completion, and Mr. Scott thought it advisable to give a dinner to the - workmen, "as a substantial recognition of his appreciation of their skill - and energy." "Two long tables," we are told, "constructed of scaffold - planks, were arranged in the workshops, and covered with newspapers, for - want of table-cloths. Upwards of eighty men sat down. Beef and mutton, - plum pudding and cheese were supplied in abundance, and each man who - desired it had three pints of beer, gingerbeer and lemonade being provided - for the teetotalers, who formed a very considerable proportion... Several - toasts were given and many of the workmen spoke, almost all of them - commencing by 'Thanking God that they enjoyed good health;' some alluded - to the temperance that prevailed amongst them, others observed how little - swearing was ever heard, whilst all said how pleased and proud they were - to be engaged on so great a work." - </p> - <p> - Gradually the edifice approached completion. The one hundred and - seventieth life-size figure in the frieze was chiselled, the granite - pillars arose, the mosaics were inserted in the allegorical pediments, the - four colossal statues representing the greater Christian virtues, the four - other colossal statues representing the greater moral virtues, were - hoisted into their positions, the eight bronzes representing the greater - sciences—Astronomy, Chemistry, Geology, Geometry, Rhetoric, - Medicine, Philosophy, and Physiology—were fixed on their glittering - pinnacles, high in air. The statue of Physiology was particularly admired. - "On her left arm," the official description informs us, "she bears a - new-born infant, as a representation of the development of the highest and - most perfect of physiological forms; her hand points towards a microscope, - the instrument which lends its assistance for the investigation of the - minuter forms of animal and vegetable organisms." At last the gilded cross - crowned the dwindling galaxies of superimposed angels, the four continents - in white marble stood at the four corners of the base, and, seven years - after its inception, in July, 1872, the monument was thrown open to the - public. - </p> - <p> - But four more years were to elapse before the central figure was ready to - be placed under its starry canopy. It was designed by Mr. Foley, though in - one particular the sculptor's freedom was restricted by Mr. Scott. "I have - chosen the sitting posture," Mr. Scott said, "as best conveying the idea - of dignity befitting a royal personage." Mr. Foley ably carried out the - conception of his principal. "In the attitude and expression," he said, - "the aim has been, with the individuality of portraiture, to embody rank, - character, and enlightenment, and to convey a sense of that responsive - intelligence indicating an active, rather than a passive, interest in - those pursuits of civilisation illustrated in the surrounding figures, - groups, and relievos... To identify the figure with one of the most - memorable undertakings of the public life of the Prince—the - International Exhibition of 1851—a catalogue of the works collected - in that first gathering of the industry of all nations, is placed in the - right hand." The statue was of bronze gilt and weighed nearly ten tons. It - was rightly supposed that the simple word "Albert," cast on the base, - would be a sufficient means of identification. - </p> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER VIII. GLADSTONE AND LORD BEACONSFIELD - </h2> - <h3> - I - </h3> - <p> - Lord Palmerston's laugh—a queer metallic "Ha! ha! ha!" with - reverberations in it from the days of Pitt and the Congress of Vienna—was - heard no more in Piccadilly; Lord John Russell dwindled into senility; - Lord Derby tottered from the stage. A new scene opened; and new - protagonists—Mr. Gladstone and Mr. Disraeli—struggled together - in the limelight. Victoria, from her post of vantage, watched these - developments with that passionate and personal interest which she - invariably imported into politics. Her prepossessions were of an - unexpected kind. Mr. Gladstone had been the disciple of her revered Peel, - and had won the approval of Albert; Mr. Disraeli had hounded Sir Robert to - his fall with hideous virulence, and the Prince had pronounced that he - "had not one single element of a gentleman in his composition." Yet she - regarded Mr. Gladstone with a distrust and dislike which steadily - deepened, while upon his rival she lavished an abundance of confidence, - esteem, and affection such as Lord Melbourne himself had hardly known. - </p> - <p> - Her attitude towards the Tory Minister had suddenly changed when she found - that he alone among public men had divined her feelings at Albert's death. - Of the others she might have said "they pity me and not my grief;" but Mr. - Disraeli had understood; and all his condolences had taken the form of - reverential eulogies of the departed. The Queen declared that he was "the - only person who appreciated the Prince." She began to show him special - favour; gave him and his wife two of the coveted seats in St. George's - Chapel at the Prince of Wales's wedding, and invited him to stay a night - at Windsor. When the grant for the Albert Memorial came before the House - of Commons, Disraeli, as leader of the Opposition, eloquently supported - the project. He was rewarded by a copy of the Prince's speeches, bound in - white morocco, with an inscription in the royal hand. In his letter of - thanks he "ventured to touch upon a sacred theme," and, in a strain which - re-echoed with masterly fidelity the sentiments of his correspondent, - dwelt at length upon the absolute perfection of Albert. "The Prince," he - said, "is the only person whom Mr. Disraeli has ever known who realised - the Ideal. None with whom he is acquainted have ever approached it. There - was in him a union of the manly grace and sublime simplicity, of chivalry - with the intellectual splendour of the Attic Academe. The only character - in English history that would, in some respects, draw near to him is Sir - Philip Sidney: the same high tone, the same universal accomplishments, the - same blended tenderness and vigour, the same rare combination of romantic - energy and classic repose." As for his own acquaintance with the Prince, - it had been, he said, "one of the most satisfactory incidents of his life: - full of refined and beautiful memories, and exercising, as he hopes, over - his remaining existence, a soothing and exalting influence." Victoria was - much affected by "the depth and delicacy of these touches," and - henceforward Disraeli's place in her affections was assured. When, in - 1866, the Conservatives came into office, Disraeli's position as - Chancellor of the Exchequer and leader of the House necessarily brought - him into a closer relation with the Sovereign. Two years later Lord Derby - resigned, and Victoria, with intense delight and peculiar graciousness, - welcomed Disraeli as her First Minister. - </p> - <p> - But only for nine agitated months did he remain in power. The Ministry, in - a minority in the Commons, was swept out of existence by a general - election. Yet by the end of that short period the ties which bound - together the Queen and her Premier had grown far stronger than ever - before; the relationship between them was now no longer merely that - between a grateful mistress and a devoted servant: they were friends. His - official letters, in which the personal element had always been - perceptible, developed into racy records of political news and social - gossip, written, as Lord Clarendon said, "in his best novel style." - Victoria was delighted; she had never, she declared, had such letters in - her life, and had never before known EVERYTHING. In return, she sent him, - when the spring came, several bunches of flowers, picked by her own hands. - He despatched to her a set of his novels, for which, she said, she was - "most grateful, and which she values much." She herself had lately - published her "Leaves from the Journal of our Life in the Highlands," and - it was observed that the Prime Minister, in conversing with Her Majesty at - this period, constantly used the words "we authors, ma'am." Upon political - questions, she was his staunch supporter. "Really there never was such - conduct as that of the Opposition," she wrote. And when the Government was - defeated in the House she was "really shocked at the way in which the - House of Commons go on; they really bring discredit on Constitutional - Government." She dreaded the prospect of a change; she feared that if the - Liberals insisted upon disestablishing the Irish Church, her Coronation - Oath might stand in the way. But a change there had to be, and Victoria - vainly tried to console herself for the loss of her favourite Minister by - bestowing a peerage upon Mrs. Disraeli. - </p> - <p> - Mr. Gladstone was in his shirt-sleeves at Hawarden, cutting down a tree, - when the royal message was brought to him. "Very significant," he - remarked, when he had read the letter, and went on cutting down his tree. - His secret thoughts on the occasion were more explicit, and were committed - to his diary. "The Almighty," he wrote, "seems to sustain and spare me for - some purpose of His own, deeply unworthy as I know myself to be. Glory be - to His name." - </p> - <p> - The Queen, however, did not share her new Minister's view of the - Almighty's intentions. She could not believe that there was any divine - purpose to be detected in the programme of sweeping changes which Mr. - Gladstone was determined to carry out. But what could she do? Mr. - Gladstone, with his daemonic energy and his powerful majority in the House - of Commons, was irresistible; and for five years (1869-74) Victoria found - herself condemned to live in an agitating atmosphere of interminable - reform—reform in the Irish Church and the Irish land system, reform - in education, reform in parliamentary elections, reform in the - organisation of the Army and the Navy, reform in the administration of - justice. She disapproved, she struggled, she grew very angry; she felt - that if Albert had been living things would never have happened so; but - her protests and her complaints were alike unavailing. The mere effort of - grappling with the mass of documents which poured in upon her in an - ever-growing flood was terribly exhausting. When the draft of the lengthy - and intricate Irish Church Bill came before her, accompanied by an - explanatory letter from Mr. Gladstone covering a dozen closely-written - quarto pages, she almost despaired. She turned from the Bill to the - explanation, and from the explanation back again to the Bill, and she - could not decide which was the most confusing. But she had to do her duty: - she had not only to read, but to make notes. At last she handed the whole - heap of papers to Mr. Martin, who happened to be staying at Osborne, and - requested him to make a precis of them. When he had done so, her - disapproval of the measure became more marked than ever; but, such was the - strength of the Government, she actually found herself obliged to urge - moderation upon the Opposition, lest worse should ensue. - </p> - <p> - In the midst of this crisis, when the future of the Irish Church was - hanging in the balance, Victoria's attention was drawn to another proposed - reform. It was suggested that the sailors in the Navy should henceforward - be allowed to wear beards. "Has Mr. Childers ascertained anything on the - subject of the beards?" the Queen wrote anxiously to the First Lord of the - Admiralty. On the whole, Her Majesty was in favour of the change. "Her own - personal feeling," she wrote, "would be for the beards without the - moustaches, as the latter have rather a soldierlike appearance; but then - the object in view would not be obtained, viz. to prevent the necessity of - shaving. Therefore it had better be as proposed, the entire beard, only it - should be kept short and very clean." After thinking over the question for - another week, the Queen wrote a final letter. She wished, she said, "to - make one additional observation respecting the beards, viz. that on no - account should moustaches be allowed without beards. That must be clearly - understood." - </p> - <p> - Changes in the Navy might be tolerated; to lay hands upon the Army was a - more serious matter. From time immemorial there had been a particularly - close connection between the Army and the Crown; and Albert had devoted - even more time and attention to the details of military business than to - the processes of fresco-painting or the planning of sanitary cottages for - the deserving poor. But now there was to be a great alteration: Mr. - Gladstone's fiat had gone forth, and the Commander-in-Chief was to be - removed from his direct dependence upon the Sovereign, and made - subordinate to Parliament and the Secretary of State for War. Of all the - liberal reforms this was the one which aroused the bitterest resentment in - Victoria. She considered that the change was an attack upon her personal - position—almost an attack upon the personal position of Albert. But - she was helpless, and the Prime Minister had his way. When she heard that - the dreadful man had yet another reform in contemplation—that he was - about to abolish the purchase of military commissions—she could only - feel that it was just what might have been expected. For a moment she - hoped that the House of Lords would come to the rescue; the Peers opposed - the change with unexpected vigour; but Mr. Gladstone, more conscious than - ever of the support of the Almighty, was ready with an ingenious device. - The purchase of commissions had been originally allowed by Royal Warrant; - it should now be disallowed by the same agency. Victoria was faced by a - curious dilemma: she abominated the abolition of purchase; but she was - asked to abolish it by an exercise of sovereign power which was very much - to her taste. She did not hesitate for long; and when the Cabinet, in a - formal minute, advised her to sign the Warrant, she did so with a good - grace. - </p> - <p> - Unacceptable as Mr. Gladstone's policy was, there was something else about - him which was even more displeasing to Victoria. She disliked his personal - demeanour towards herself. It was not that Mr. Gladstone, in his - intercourse with her, was in any degree lacking in courtesy or respect. On - the contrary, an extraordinary reverence impregnated his manner, both in - his conversation and his correspondence with the Sovereign. Indeed, with - that deep and passionate conservatism which, to the very end of his - incredible career, gave such an unexpected colouring to his inexplicable - character, Mr. Gladstone viewed Victoria through a haze of awe which was - almost religious—as a sacrosanct embodiment of venerable traditions—a - vital element in the British Constitution—a Queen by Act of - Parliament. But unfortunately the lady did not appreciate the compliment. - The well-known complaint—"He speaks to me as if I were a public - meeting-" whether authentic or no—and the turn of the sentence is - surely a little too epigrammatic to be genuinely Victorian—undoubtedly - expresses the essential element of her antipathy. She had no objection to - being considered as an institution; she was one, and she knew it. But she - was a woman too, and to be considered ONLY as an institution—that - was unbearable. And thus all Mr. Gladstone's zeal and devotion, his - ceremonious phrases, his low bows, his punctilious correctitudes, were - utterly wasted; and when, in the excess of his loyalty, he went further, - and imputed to the object of his veneration, with obsequious blindness, - the subtlety of intellect, the wide reading, the grave enthusiasm, which - he himself possessed, the misunderstanding became complete. The - discordance between the actual Victoria and this strange Divinity made in - Mr. Gladstone's image produced disastrous results. Her discomfort and - dislike turned at last into positive animosity, and, though her manners - continued to be perfect, she never for a moment unbent; while he on his - side was overcome with disappointment, perplexity, and mortification. - </p> - <p> - Yet his fidelity remained unshaken. When the Cabinet met, the Prime - Minister, filled with his beatific vision, would open the proceedings by - reading aloud the letters which he had received from the Queen upon the - questions of the hour. The assembly sat in absolute silence while, one - after another, the royal missives, with their emphases, their - ejaculations, and their grammatical peculiarities, boomed forth in all the - deep solemnity of Mr. Gladstone's utterance. Not a single comment, of any - kind, was ever hazarded; and, after a fitting pause, the Cabinet proceeded - with the business of the day. - </p> - <p> - II - </p> - <p> - Little as Victoria appreciated her Prime Minister's attitude towards her, - she found that it had its uses. The popular discontent at her - uninterrupted seclusion had been gathering force for many years, and now - burst out in a new and alarming shape. Republicanism was in the air. - Radical opinion in England, stimulated by the fall of Napoleon III and the - establishment of a republican government in France, suddenly grew more - extreme than it ever had been since 1848. It also became for the first - time almost respectable. Chartism had been entirely an affair of the lower - classes; but now Members of Parliament, learned professors, and ladies of - title openly avowed the most subversive views. The monarchy was attacked - both in theory and in practice. And it was attacked at a vital point: it - was declared to be too expensive. What benefits, it was asked, did the - nation reap to counterbalance the enormous sums which were expended upon - the Sovereign? Victoria's retirement gave an unpleasant handle to the - argument. It was pointed out that the ceremonial functions of the Crown - had virtually lapsed; and the awkward question remained whether any of the - other functions which it did continue to perform were really worth - L385,000 per annum. The royal balance-sheet was curiously examined. An - anonymous pamphlet entitled "What does she do with it?" appeared, setting - forth the financial position with malicious clarity. The Queen, it stated, - was granted by the Civil List L60,000 a year for her private use; but the - rest of her vast annuity was given, as the Act declared, to enable her "to - defray the expenses of her royal household and to support the honour and - dignity of the Crown." Now it was obvious that, since the death of the - Prince, the expenditure for both these purposes must have been very - considerably diminished, and it was difficult to resist the conclusion - that a large sum of money was diverted annually from the uses for which it - had been designed by Parliament, to swell the private fortune of Victoria. - The precise amount of that private fortune it was impossible to discover; - but there was reason to suppose that it was gigantic; perhaps it reached a - total of five million pounds. The pamphlet protested against such a state - of affairs, and its protests were repeated vigorously in newspapers and at - public meetings. Though it is certain that the estimate of Victoria's - riches was much exaggerated, it is equally certain that she was an - exceedingly wealthy woman. She probably saved L20,000 a year from the - Civil List, the revenues of the Duchy of Lancaster were steadily - increasing, she had inherited a considerable property from the Prince - Consort, and she had been left, in 1852, an estate of half a million by - Mr. John Neild, an eccentric miser. In these circumstances it was not - surprising that when, in 1871, Parliament was asked to vote a dowry of - L30,000 to the Princess Louise on her marriage with the eldest son of the - Duke of Argyle, together with an annuity of L6,000, there should have been - a serious outcry(*). - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - (*) In 1889 it was officially stated that the Queen's total - savings from the Civil List amounted to L824,025, but that - out of this sum much had been spent on special - entertainments to foreign visitors. Taking into - consideration the proceeds from the Duchy of Lancaster, - which were more than L60,000 a year, the savings of the - Prince Consort, and Mr. Neild's legacy, it seems probable - that, at the time of her death, Victoria's private fortune - approached two million pounds. -</pre> - <p> - In order to conciliate public opinion, the Queen opened Parliament in - person, and the vote was passed almost unanimously. But a few months later - another demand was made: the Prince Arthur had come of age, and the nation - was asked to grant him an annuity of L15,000. The outcry was redoubled. - The newspapers were filled with angry articles; Bradlaugh thundered - against "princely paupers" to one of the largest crowds that had ever been - seen in Trafalgar Square; and Sir Charles Dilke expounded the case for a - republic in a speech to his constituents at Newcastle. The Prince's - annuity was ultimately sanctioned in the House of Commons by a large - majority; but a minority of fifty members voted in favour of reducing the - sum to L10,000. - </p> - <p> - Towards every aspect of this distasteful question, Mr. Gladstone presented - an iron front. He absolutely discountenanced the extreme section of his - followers. He declared that the whole of the Queen's income was justly at - her personal disposal, argued that to complain of royal savings was merely - to encourage royal extravagance, and successfully convoyed through - Parliament the unpopular annuities, which, he pointed out, were strictly - in accordance with precedent. When, in 1872, Sir Charles Dilke once more - returned to the charge in the House of Commons, introducing a motion for a - full enquiry into the Queen's expenditure with a view to a root and branch - reform of the Civil List, the Prime Minister brought all the resources of - his powerful and ingenious eloquence to the support of the Crown. He was - completely successful; and amid a scene of great disorder the motion was - ignominiously dismissed. Victoria was relieved; but she grew no fonder of - Mr. Gladstone. - </p> - <p> - It was perhaps the most miserable moment of her life. The Ministers, the - press, the public, all conspired to vex her, to blame her, to misinterpret - her actions, to be unsympathetic and disrespectful in every way. She was - "a cruelly misunderstood woman," she told Mr. Martin, complaining to him - bitterly of the unjust attacks which were made upon her, and declaring - that "the great worry and anxiety and hard work for ten years, alone, - unaided, with increasing age and never very strong health" were breaking - her down, and "almost drove her to despair." The situation was indeed - deplorable. It seemed as if her whole existence had gone awry; as if an - irremediable antagonism had grown up between the Queen and the nation. If - Victoria had died in the early seventies, there can be little doubt that - the voice of the world would have pronounced her a failure. - </p> - <p> - III - </p> - <p> - But she was reserved for a very different fate. The outburst of - republicanism had been in fact the last flicker of an expiring cause. The - liberal tide, which had been flowing steadily ever since the Reform Bill, - reached its height with Mr. Gladstone's first administration; and towards - the end of that administration the inevitable ebb began. The reaction, - when it came, was sudden and complete. The General Election of 1874 - changed the whole face of politics. Mr. Gladstone and the Liberals were - routed; and the Tory party, for the first time for over forty years, - attained an unquestioned supremacy in England. It was obvious that their - surprising triumph was pre-eminently due to the skill and vigour of - Disraeli. He returned to office, no longer the dubious commander of an - insufficient host, but with drums beating and flags flying, a conquering - hero. And as a conquering hero Victoria welcomed her new Prime Minister. - </p> - <p> - Then there followed six years of excitement, of enchantment, of felicity, - of glory, of romance. The amazing being, who now at last, at the age of - seventy, after a lifetime of extraordinary struggles, had turned into - reality the absurdest of his boyhood's dreams, knew well enough how to - make his own, with absolute completeness, the heart of the Sovereign Lady - whose servant, and whose master, he had so miraculously become. In women's - hearts he had always read as in an open book. His whole career had turned - upon those curious entities; and the more curious they were, the more - intimately at home with them he seemed to be. But Lady Beaconsfield, with - her cracked idolatry, and Mrs. Brydges-Williams, with her clogs, her - corpulence, and her legacy, were gone: an even more remarkable phenomenon - stood in their place. He surveyed what was before him with the eye of a - past-master; and he was not for a moment at a loss. He realised everything—the - interacting complexities of circumstance and character, the pride of place - mingled so inextricably with personal arrogance, the superabundant - emotionalism, the ingenuousness of outlook, the solid, the laborious - respectability, shot through so incongruously by temperamental cravings - for the coloured and the strange, the singular intellectual limitations, - and the mysteriously essential female elements impregnating every particle - of the whole. A smile hovered over his impassive features, and he dubbed - Victoria "the Faery." The name delighted him, for, with that epigrammatic - ambiguity so dear to his heart, it precisely expressed his vision of the - Queen. The Spenserian allusion was very pleasant—the elegant - evocations of Gloriana; but there was more in it than that: there was the - suggestion of a diminutive creature, endowed with magical—and - mythical—properties, and a portentousness almost ridiculously out of - keeping with the rest of her make-up. The Faery, he determined, should - henceforward wave her wand for him alone. Detachment is always a rare - quality, and rarest of all, perhaps, among politicians; but that veteran - egotist possessed it in a supreme degree. Not only did he know what he had - to do, not only did he do it; he was in the audience as well as on the - stage; and he took in with the rich relish of a connoisseur every feature - of the entertaining situation, every phase of the delicate drama, and - every detail of his own consummate performance. - </p> - <p> - The smile hovered and vanished, and, bowing low with Oriental gravity and - Oriental submissiveness, he set himself to his task. He had understood - from the first that in dealing with the Faery the appropriate method of - approach was the very antithesis of the Gladstonian; and such a method was - naturally his. It was not his habit to harangue and exhort and expatiate - in official conscientiousness; he liked to scatter flowers along the path - of business, to compress a weighty argument into a happy phrase, to - insinuate what was in his mind with an air of friendship and confidential - courtesy. He was nothing if not personal; and he had perceived that - personality was the key that opened the Faery's heart. Accordingly, he - never for a moment allowed his intercourse with her to lose the personal - tone; he invested all the transactions of State with the charms of - familiar conversation; she was always the royal lady, the adored and - revered mistress, he the devoted and respectful friend. When once the - personal relation was firmly established, every difficulty disappeared. - But to maintain that relation uninterruptedly in a smooth and even course - a particular care was necessary: the bearings had to be most assiduously - oiled. Nor was Disraeli in any doubt as to the nature of the lubricant. - "You have heard me called a flatterer," he said to Matthew Arnold, "and it - is true. Everyone likes flattery, and when you come to royalty you should - lay it on with a trowel." He practiced what he preached. His adulation was - incessant, and he applied it in the very thickest slabs. "There is no - honor and no reward," he declared, "that with him can ever equal the - possession of your Majesty's kind thoughts. All his own thoughts and - feelings and duties and affections are now concentrated in your Majesty, - and he desires nothing more for his remaining years than to serve your - Majesty, or, if that service ceases, to live still on its memory as a - period of his existence most interesting and fascinating." "In life," he - told her, "one must have for one's thoughts a sacred depository, and Lord - Beaconsfield ever presumes to seek that in his Sovereign Mistress." She - was not only his own solitary support; she was the one prop of the State. - "If your Majesty is ill," he wrote during a grave political crisis, "he is - sure he will himself break down. All, really, depends upon your Majesty." - "He lives only for Her," he asseverated, "and works only for Her, and - without Her all is lost." When her birthday came he produced an elaborate - confection of hyperbolic compliment. "To-day Lord Beaconsfield ought - fitly, perhaps, to congratulate a powerful Sovereign on her imperial sway, - the vastness of her Empire, and the success and strength of her fleets and - armies. But he cannot, his mind is in another mood. He can only think of - the strangeness of his destiny that it has come to pass that he should be - the servant of one so great, and whose infinite kindness, the brightness - of whose intelligence and the firmness of whose will, have enabled him to - undertake labours to which he otherwise would be quite unequal, and - supported him in all things by a condescending sympathy, which in the hour - of difficulty alike charms and inspires. Upon the Sovereign of many lands - and many hearts may an omnipotent Providence shed every blessing that the - wise can desire and the virtuous deserve!" In those expert hands the - trowel seemed to assume the qualities of some lofty masonic symbol—to - be the ornate and glittering vehicle of verities unrealised by the - profane. - </p> - <p> - Such tributes were delightful, but they remained in the nebulous region of - words, and Disraeli had determined to give his blandishments a more - significant solidity. He deliberately encouraged those high views of her - own position which had always been native to Victoria's mind and had been - reinforced by the principles of Albert and the doctrines of Stockmar. He - professed to a belief in a theory of the Constitution which gave the - Sovereign a leading place in the councils of government; but his - pronouncements upon the subject were indistinct; and when he emphatically - declared that there ought to be "a real Throne," it was probably with the - mental addition that that throne would be a very unreal one indeed whose - occupant was unamenable to his cajoleries. But the vagueness of his - language was in itself an added stimulant to Victoria. Skilfully confusing - the woman and the Queen, he threw, with a grandiose gesture, the - government of England at her feet, as if in doing so he were performing an - act of personal homage. In his first audience after returning to power, he - assured her that "whatever she wished should be done." When the intricate - Public Worship Regulation Bill was being discussed by the Cabinet, he told - the Faery that his "only object" was "to further your Majesty's wishes in - this matter." When he brought off his great coup over the Suez Canal, he - used expressions which implied that the only gainer by the transaction was - Victoria. "It is just settled," he wrote in triumph; "you have it, - Madam... Four millions sterling! and almost immediately. There was only - one firm that could do it—Rothschilds. They behaved admirably; - advanced the money at a low rate, and the entire interest of the Khedive - is now yours, Madam." Nor did he limit himself to highly-spiced - insinuations. Writing with all the authority of his office, he advised the - Queen that she had the constitutional right to dismiss a Ministry which - was supported by a large majority in the House of Commons, he even urged - her to do so, if, in her opinion, "your Majesty's Government have from - wilfulness, or even from weakness, deceived your Majesty." To the horror - of Mr. Gladstone, he not only kept the Queen informed as to the general - course of business in the Cabinet, but revealed to her the part taken in - its discussions by individual members of it. Lord Derby, the son of the - late Prime Minister and Disraeli's Foreign Secretary, viewed these - developments with grave mistrust. "Is there not," he ventured to write to - his Chief, "just a risk of encouraging her in too large ideas of her - personal power, and too great indifference to what the public expects? I - only ask; it is for you to judge." - </p> - <p> - As for Victoria, she accepted everything—compliments, flatteries, - Elizabethan prerogatives—without a single qualm. After the long - gloom of her bereavement, after the chill of the Gladstonian discipline, - she expanded to the rays of Disraeli's devotion like a flower in the sun. - The change in her situation was indeed miraculous. No longer was she - obliged to puzzle for hours over the complicated details of business, for - now she had only to ask Mr. Disraeli for an explanation, and he would give - it her in the most concise, in the most amusing, way. No longer was she - worried by alarming novelties; no longer was she put out at finding - herself treated, by a reverential gentleman in high collars, as if she - were some embodied precedent, with a recondite knowledge of Greek. And her - deliverer was surely the most fascinating of men. The strain of - charlatanism, which had unconsciously captivated her in Napoleon III, - exercised the same enchanting effect in the case of Disraeli. Like a - dram-drinker, whose ordinary life is passed in dull sobriety, her - unsophisticated intelligence gulped down his rococo allurements with - peculiar zest. She became intoxicated, entranced. Believing all that he - told her of herself, she completely regained the self-confidence which had - been slipping away from her throughout the dark period that followed - Albert's death. She swelled with a new elation, while he, conjuring up - before her wonderful Oriental visions, dazzled her eyes with an imperial - grandeur of which she had only dimly dreamed. Under the compelling - influence, her very demeanour altered. Her short, stout figure, with its - folds of black velvet, its muslin streamers, its heavy pearls at the heavy - neck, assumed an almost menacing air. In her countenance, from which the - charm of youth had long since vanished, and which had not yet been - softened by age, the traces of grief, of disappointment, and of - displeasure were still visible, but they were overlaid by looks of - arrogance and sharp lines of peremptory hauteur. Only, when Mr. Disraeli - appeared, the expression changed in an instant, and the forbidding visage - became charged with smiles. For him she would do anything. Yielding to his - encouragements, she began to emerge from her seclusion; she appeared in - London in semi-state, at hospitals and concerts; she opened Parliament; - she reviewed troops and distributed medals at Aldershot. But such public - signs of favour were trivial in comparison with her private attentions. - During his flours of audience, she could hardly restrain her excitement - and delight. "I can only describe my reception," he wrote to a friend on - one occasion, "by telling you that I really thought she was going to - embrace me. She was wreathed with smiles, and, as she tattled, glided - about the room like a bird." In his absence, she talked of him - perpetually, and there was a note of unusual vehemence in her solicitude - for his health. "John Manners," Disraeli told Lady Bradford, "who has just - come from Osborne, says that the Faery only talked of one subject, and - that was her Primo. According to him, it was her gracious opinion that the - Government should make my health a Cabinet question. Dear John seemed - quite surprised at what she said; but you are used to these ebullitions." - She often sent him presents; an illustrated album arrived for him - regularly from Windsor on Christmas Day. But her most valued gifts were - the bunches of spring flowers which, gathered by herself and her ladies in - the woods at Osborne, marked in an especial manner the warmth and - tenderness of her sentiments. Among these it was, he declared, the - primroses that he loved the best. They were, he said, "the ambassadors of - Spring, the gems and jewels of Nature." He liked them, he assured her, "so - much better for their being wild; they seem an offering from the Fauns and - Dryads of Osborne." "They show," he told her, "that your Majesty's sceptre - has touched the enchanted Isle." He sat at dinner with heaped-up bowls of - them on every side, and told his guests that "they were all sent to me - this morning by the Queen from Osborne, as she knows it is my favorite - flower." - </p> - <p> - As time went on, and as it became clearer and clearer that the Faery's - thraldom was complete, his protestations grew steadily more highly—coloured - and more unabashed. At last he ventured to import into his blandishments a - strain of adoration that was almost avowedly romantic. In phrases of - baroque convolution, he conveyed the message of his heart. "The pressure - of business," he wrote, had "so absorbed and exhausted him, that towards - the hour of post he has not had clearness of mind, and vigour of pen, - adequate to convey his thoughts and facts to the most loved and - illustrious being, who deigns to consider them." She sent him some - primroses, and he replied that he could "truly say they are 'more precious - than rubies,' coming, as they do, and at such a moment, from a Sovereign - whom he adores." She sent him snowdrops, and his sentiment overflowed into - poetry. "Yesterday eve," he wrote, "there appeared, in Whitehall Gardens, - a delicate-looking case, with a royal superscription, which, when he - opened, he thought, at first, that your Majesty had graciously bestowed - upon him the stars of your Majesty's principal orders." And, indeed, he - was so impressed with this graceful illusion, that, having a banquet, - where there were many stars and ribbons, he could not resist the - temptation, by placing some snowdrops on his heart, of showing that, he, - too, was decorated by a gracious Sovereign. - </p> - <p> - Then, in the middle of the night, it occurred to him, that it might all be - an enchantment, and that, perhaps, it was a Faery gift and came from - another monarch: Queen Titania, gathering flowers, with her Court, in a - soft and sea-girt isle, and sending magic blossoms, which, they say, turn - the heads of those who receive them. - </p> - <p> - A Faery gift! Did he smile as he wrote the words? Perhaps; and yet it - would be rash to conclude that his perfervid declarations were altogether - without sincerity. Actor and spectator both, the two characters were so - intimately blended together in that odd composition that they formed an - inseparable unity, and it was impossible to say that one of them was less - genuine than the other. With one element, he could coldly appraise the - Faery's intellectual capacity, note with some surprise that she could be - on occasion "most interesting and amusing," and then continue his use of - the trowel with an ironical solemnity; while, with the other, he could be - overwhelmed by the immemorial panoply of royalty, and, thrilling with the - sense of his own strange elevation, dream himself into a gorgeous phantasy - of crowns and powers and chivalric love. When he told Victoria that - "during a somewhat romantic and imaginative life, nothing has ever - occurred to him so interesting as this confidential correspondence with - one so exalted and so inspiring," was he not in earnest after all? When he - wrote to a lady about the Court, "I love the Queen—perhaps the only - person in this world left to me that I do love," was he not creating for - himself an enchanted palace out of the Arabian Nights, full of melancholy - and spangles, in which he actually believed? Victoria's state of mind was - far more simple; untroubled by imaginative yearnings, she never lost - herself in that nebulous region of the spirit where feeling and fancy grow - confused. Her emotions, with all their intensity and all their - exaggeration, retained the plain prosaic texture of everyday life. And it - was fitting that her expression of them should be equally commonplace. She - was, she told her Prime Minister, at the end of an official letter, "yours - aff'ly V. R. and I." In such a phrase the deep reality of her feeling is - instantly manifest. The Faery's feet were on the solid earth; it was the - ruse cynic who was in the air. - </p> - <p> - He had taught her, however, a lesson, which she had learnt with alarming - rapidity. A second Gloriana, did he call her? Very well, then, she would - show that she deserved the compliment. Disquieting symptoms followed fast. - In May, 1874, the Tsar, whose daughter had just been married to Victoria's - second son, the Duke of Edinburgh, was in London, and, by an unfortunate - error, it had been arranged that his departure should not take place until - two days after the date on which his royal hostess had previously decided - to go to Balmoral. Her Majesty refused to modify her plans. It was pointed - out to her that the Tsar would certainly be offended, that the most - serious consequences might follow; Lord Derby protested; Lord Salisbury, - the Secretary of State for India, was much perturbed. But the Faery was - unconcerned; she had settled to go to Balmoral on the 18th, and on the - 18th she would go. At last Disraeli, exercising all his influence, induced - her to agree to stay in London for two days more. "My head is still on my - shoulders," he told Lady Bradford. "The great lady has absolutely - postponed her departure! Everybody had failed, even the Prince of Wales... - and I have no doubt I am not in favour. I can't help it. Salisbury says I - have saved an Afghan War, and Derby compliments me on my unrivalled - triumph." But before very long, on another issue, the triumph was the - Faery's. Disraeli, who had suddenly veered towards a new Imperialism, had - thrown out the suggestion that the Queen of England ought to become the - Empress of India. Victoria seized upon the idea with avidity, and, in - season and out of season, pressed upon her Prime Minister the desirability - of putting his proposal into practice. He demurred; but she was not to be - baulked; and in 1876, in spite of his own unwillingness and that of his - entire Cabinet, he found himself obliged to add to the troubles of a - stormy session by introducing a bill for the alteration of the Royal - Title. His compliance, however, finally conquered the Faery's heart. The - measure was angrily attacked in both Houses, and Victoria was deeply - touched by the untiring energy with which Disraeli defended it. She was, - she said, much grieved by "the worry and annoyance" to which he was - subjected; she feared she was the cause of it; and she would never forget - what she owed to "her kind, good, and considerate friend." At the same - time, her wrath fell on the Opposition. Their conduct, she declared, was - "extraordinary, incomprehensible, and mistaken," and, in an emphatic - sentence which seemed to contradict both itself and all her former - proceedings, she protested that she "would be glad if it were more - generally known that it was HER wish, as people WILL have it, that it has - been FORCED UPON HER!" When the affair was successfully over, the imperial - triumph was celebrated in a suitable manner. On the day of the Delhi - Proclamation, the new Earl of Beaconsfield went to Windsor to dine with - the new Empress of India. That night the Faery, usually so homely in her - attire, appeared in a glittering panoply of enormous uncut jewels, which - had been presented to her by the reigning Princes of her Raj. At the end - of the meal the Prime Minister, breaking through the rules of etiquette, - arose, and in a flowery oration proposed the health of the Queen-Empress. - His audacity was well received, and his speech was rewarded by a smiling - curtsey. - </p> - <p> - These were significant episodes; but a still more serious manifestation of - Victoria's temper occurred in the following year, during the crowning - crisis of Beaconsfield's life. His growing imperialism, his desire to - magnify the power and prestige of England, his insistence upon a "spirited - foreign policy," had brought him into collision with Russia; the terrible - Eastern Question loomed up; and when war broke out between Russia and - Turkey, the gravity of the situation became extreme. The Prime Minister's - policy was fraught with difficulty and danger. Realising perfectly the - appalling implications of an Anglo-Russian war, he was yet prepared to - face even that eventuality if he could obtain his ends by no other method; - but he believed that Russia in reality was still less desirous of a - rupture, and that, if he played his game with sufficient boldness and - adroitness, she would yield, when it came to the point, all that he - required without a blow. It was clear that the course he had marked out - for himself was full of hazard, and demanded an extraordinary nerve; a - single false step, and either himself, or England, might be plunged in - disaster. But nerve he had never lacked; he began his diplomatic egg-dance - with high assurance; and then he discovered that, besides the Russian - Government, besides the Liberals and Mr. Gladstone, there were two - additional sources of perilous embarrassment with which he would have to - reckon. In the first place there was a strong party in the Cabinet, headed - by Lord Derby, the Foreign Secretary, which was unwilling to take the risk - of war; but his culminating anxiety was the Faery. - </p> - <p> - From the first, her attitude was uncompromising. The old hatred of Russia, - which had been engendered by the Crimean War, surged up again within her; - she remembered Albert's prolonged animosity; she felt the prickings of her - own greatness; and she flung herself into the turmoil with passionate - heat. Her indignation with the Opposition—with anyone who ventured - to sympathise with the Russians in their quarrel with the Turks—was - unbounded. When anti-Turkish meetings were held in London, presided over - by the Duke of Westminster and Lord Shaftesbury, and attended by Mr. - Gladstone and other prominent Radicals, she considered that "the - Attorney-General ought to be set at these men;" "it can't," she exclaimed, - "be constitutional." Never in her life, not even in the crisis over the - Ladies of the Bedchamber, did she show herself a more furious partisan. - But her displeasure was not reserved for the Radicals; the backsliding - Conservatives equally felt its force. She was even discontented with Lord - Beaconsfield himself. Failing entirely to appreciate the delicate - complexity of his policy, she constantly assailed him with demands for - vigorous action, interpreted each finesse as a sign of weakness, and was - ready at every juncture to let slip the dogs of war. As the situation - developed, her anxiety grew feverish. "The Queen," she wrote, "is feeling - terribly anxious lest delay should cause us to be too late and lose our - prestige for ever! It worries her night and day." "The Faery," - Beaconsfield told Lady Bradford, "writes every day and telegraphs every - hour; this is almost literally the case." She raged loudly against the - Russians. "And the language," she cried, "the insulting language—used - by the Russians against us! It makes the Queen's blood boil!" "Oh," she - wrote a little later, "if the Queen were a man, she would like to go and - give those Russians, whose word one cannot believe, such a beating! We - shall never be friends again till we have it out. This the Queen feels - sure of." - </p> - <p> - The unfortunate Prime Minister, urged on to violence by Victoria on one - side, had to deal, on the other, with a Foreign Secretary who was - fundamentally opposed to any policy of active interference at all. Between - the Queen and Lord Derby he held a harassed course. He gained, indeed, - some slight satisfaction in playing on the one against the other—in - stimulating Lord Derby with the Queen's missives, and in appeasing the - Queen by repudiating Lord Derby's opinions; on one occasion he actually - went so far as to compose, at Victoria's request, a letter bitterly - attacking his colleague, which Her Majesty forthwith signed, and sent, - without alteration, to the Foreign Secretary. But such devices only gave a - temporary relief; and it soon became evident that Victoria's martial - ardour was not to be sidetracked by hostilities against Lord Derby; - hostilities against Russia were what she wanted, what she would, what she - must, have. For now, casting aside the last relics of moderation, she - began to attack her friend with a series of extraordinary threats. Not - once, not twice, but many times she held over his head the formidable - menace of her imminent abdication. "If England," she wrote to - Beaconsfield, "is to kiss Russia's feet, she will not be a party to the - humiliation of England and would lay down her crown," and she added that - the Prime Minister might, if he thought fit, repeat her words to the - Cabinet. "This delay," she ejaculated, "this uncertainty by which, abroad, - we are losing our prestige and our position, while Russia is advancing and - will be before Constantinople in no time! Then the Government will be - fearfully blamed and the Queen so humiliated that she thinks she would - abdicate at once. Be bold!" "She feels," she reiterated, "she cannot, as - she before said, remain the Sovereign of a country that is letting itself - down to kiss the feet of the great barbarians, the retarders of all - liberty and civilisation that exists." When the Russians advanced to the - outskirts of Constantinople she fired off three letters in a day demanding - war; and when she learnt that the Cabinet had only decided to send the - Fleet to Gallipoli she declared that "her first impulse" was "to lay down - the thorny crown, which she feels little satisfaction in retaining if the - position of this country is to remain as it is now." It is easy to imagine - the agitating effect of such a correspondence upon Beaconsfield. This was - no longer the Faery; it was a genie whom he had rashly called out of her - bottle, and who was now intent upon showing her supernal power. More than - once, perplexed, dispirited, shattered by illness, he had thoughts of - withdrawing altogether from the game. One thing alone, he told Lady - Bradford, with a wry smile, prevented him. "If I could only," he wrote, - "face the scene which would occur at headquarters if I resigned, I would - do so at once." - </p> - <p> - He held on, however, to emerge victorious at last. The Queen was pacified; - Lord Derby was replaced by Lord Salisbury; and at the Congress of Berlin - der alte Jude carried all before him. He returned to England in triumph, - and assured the delighted Victoria that she would very soon be, if she was - not already, the "Dictatress of Europe." - </p> - <p> - But soon there was an unexpected reverse. At the General Election of 1880 - the country, mistrustful of the forward policy of the Conservatives, and - carried away by Mr. Gladstone's oratory, returned the Liberals to power. - Victoria was horrified, but within a year she was to be yet more nearly - hit. The grand romance had come to its conclusion. Lord Beaconsfield, worn - out with age and maladies, but moving still, an assiduous mummy, from - dinner-party to dinner-party, suddenly moved no longer. When she knew that - the end was inevitable, she seemed, by a pathetic instinct, to divest - herself of her royalty, and to shrink, with hushed gentleness, beside him, - a woman and nothing more. "I send some Osborne primroses," she wrote to - him with touching simplicity, "and I meant to pay you a little visit this - week, but I thought it better you should be quite quiet and not speak. And - I beg you will be very good and obey the doctors." She would see him, she - said, "when we, come back from Osborne, which won't be long." "Everyone is - so distressed at your not being well," she added; and she was, "Ever yours - very aff'ly V.R.I." When the royal letter was given him, the strange old - comedian, stretched on his bed of death, poised it in his hand, appeared - to consider deeply, and then whispered to those about him, "This ought to - be read to me by a Privy Councillor." - </p> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER IX. OLD AGE - </h2> - <h3> - I - </h3> - <p> - Meanwhile in Victoria's private life many changes and developments had - taken place. With the marriages of her elder children her family circle - widened; grandchildren appeared; and a multitude of new domestic interests - sprang up. The death of King Leopold in 1865 had removed the predominant - figure of the older generation, and the functions he had performed as the - centre and adviser of a large group of relatives in Germany and in England - devolved upon Victoria. These functions she discharged with unremitting - industry, carrying on an enormous correspondence, and following with - absorbed interest every detail in the lives of the ever-ramifying - cousinhood. And she tasted to the full both the joys and the pains of - family affection. She took a particular delight in her grandchildren, to - whom she showed an indulgence which their parents had not always enjoyed, - though, even to her grandchildren, she could be, when the occasion - demanded it, severe. The eldest of them, the little Prince Wilhelm of - Prussia, was a remarkably headstrong child; he dared to be impertinent - even to his grandmother; and once, when she told him to bow to a visitor - at Osborne, he disobeyed her outright. This would not do: the order was - sternly repeated, and the naughty boy, noticing that his grandmama had - suddenly turned into a most terrifying lady, submitted his will to hers, - and bowed very low indeed. - </p> - <p> - It would have been well if all the Queen's domestic troubles could have - been got over as easily. Among her more serious distresses was the conduct - of the Prince of Wales. The young man was now independent and married; he - had shaken the parental yoke from his shoulders; he was positively - beginning to do as he liked. Victoria was much perturbed, and her worst - fears seemed to be justified when in 1870 he appeared as a witness in a - society divorce case. It was clear that the heir to the throne had been - mixing with people of whom she did not at all approve. What was to be - done? She saw that it was not only her son that was to blame—that it - was the whole system of society; and so she despatched a letter to Mr. - Delane, the editor of The Times, asking him if he would "frequently WRITE - articles pointing out the IMMENSE danger and evil of the wretched - frivolity and levity of the views and lives of the Higher Classes." And - five years later Mr. Delane did write an article upon that very subject. - Yet it seemed to have very little effect. - </p> - <p> - Ah! if only the Higher Classes would learn to live as she lived in the - domestic sobriety of her sanctuary at Balmoral! For more and more did she - find solace and refreshment in her Highland domain; and twice yearly, in - the spring and in the autumn, with a sigh of relief, she set her face - northwards, in spite of the humble protests of Ministers, who murmured - vainly in the royal ears that to transact the affairs of State over an - interval of six hundred miles added considerably to the cares of - government. Her ladies, too, felt occasionally a slight reluctance to set - out, for, especially in the early days, the long pilgrimage was not - without its drawbacks. For many years the Queen's conservatism forbade the - continuation of the railway up Deeside, so that the last stages of the - journey had to be accomplished in carriages. But, after all, carriages had - their good points; they were easy, for instance, to get in and out of, - which was an important consideration, for the royal train remained for - long immune from modern conveniences, and when it drew up, on some border - moorland, far from any platform, the highbred dames were obliged to - descend to earth by the perilous foot-board, the only pair of folding - steps being reserved for Her Majesty's saloon. In the days of crinolines - such moments were sometimes awkward; and it was occasionally necessary to - summon Mr. Johnstone, the short and sturdy Manager of the Caledonian - Railway, who, more than once, in a high gale and drenching rain with great - difficulty "pushed up"—as he himself described it—some unlucky - Lady Blanche or Lady Agatha into her compartment. But Victoria cared for - none of these things. She was only intent upon regaining, with the utmost - swiftness, her enchanted Castle, where every spot was charged with - memories, where every memory was sacred, and where life was passed in an - incessant and delightful round of absolutely trivial events. - </p> - <p> - And it was not only the place that she loved; she was equally attached to - "the simple mountaineers," from whom, she said, "she learnt many a lesson - of resignation and faith." Smith and Grant and Ross and Thompson—she - was devoted to them all; but, beyond the rest, she was devoted to John - Brown. The Prince's gillie had now become the Queen's personal attendant—a - body servant from whom she was never parted, who accompanied her on her - drives, waited on her during the day, and slept in a neighbouring chamber - at night. She liked his strength, his solidity, the sense he gave her of - physical security; she even liked his rugged manners and his rough - unaccommodating speech. She allowed him to take liberties with her which - would have been unthinkable from anybody else. To bully the Queen, to - order her about, to reprimand her—who could dream of venturing upon - such audacities? And yet, when she received such treatment from John - Brown, she positively seemed to enjoy it. The eccentricity appeared to be - extraordinary; but, after all, it is no uncommon thing for an autocratic - dowager to allow some trusted indispensable servant to adopt towards her - an attitude of authority which is jealously forbidden to relatives or - friends: the power of a dependent still remains, by a psychological - sleight-of-hand, one's own power, even when it is exercised over oneself. - When Victoria meekly obeyed the abrupt commands of her henchman to get off - her pony or put on her shawl, was she not displaying, and in the highest - degree, the force of her volition? People might wonder; she could not help - that; this was the manner in which it pleased her to act, and there was an - end of it. To have submitted her judgment to a son or a Minister might - have seemed wiser or more natural; but if she had done so, she - instinctively felt, she would indeed have lost her independence. And yet - upon somebody she longed to depend. Her days were heavy with the long - process of domination. As she drove in silence over the moors she leaned - back in the carriage, oppressed and weary; but what a relief—John - Brown was behind on the rumble, and his strong arm would be there for her - to lean upon when she got out. - </p> - <p> - He had, too, in her mind, a special connection with Albert. In their - expeditions the Prince had always trusted him more than anyone; the gruff, - kind, hairy Scotsman was, she felt, in some mysterious way, a legacy from - the dead. She came to believe at last—or so it appeared—that - the spirit of Albert was nearer when Brown was near. Often, when seeking - inspiration over some complicated question of political or domestic - import, she would gaze with deep concentration at her late husband's bust. - But it was also noticed that sometimes in such moments of doubt and - hesitation Her Majesty's looks would fix themselves upon John Brown. - </p> - <p> - Eventually, the "simple mountaineer" became almost a state personage. The - influence which he wielded was not to be overlooked. Lord Beaconsfield was - careful, from time to time, to send courteous messages to "Mr. Brown" in - his letters to the Queen, and the French Government took particular pains - to provide for his comfort during the visits of the English Sovereign to - France. It was only natural that among the elder members of the royal - family he should not have been popular, and that his failings—for - failings he had, though Victoria would never notice his too acute - appreciation of Scotch whisky—should have been the subject of - acrimonious comment at Court. But he served his mistress faithfully, and - to ignore him would be a sign of disrespect to her biographer. For the - Queen, far from making a secret of her affectionate friendship, took care - to publish it to the world. By her orders two gold medals were struck in - his honour; on his death, in 1883, a long and eulogistic obituary notice - of him appeared in the Court Circular; and a Brown memorial brooch—of - gold, with the late gillie's head on one side and the royal monogram on - the other—was designed by Her Majesty for presentation to her - Highland servants and cottagers, to be worn by them on the anniversary of - his death, with a mourning scarf and pins. In the second series of - extracts from the Queen's Highland Journal, published in 1884, her - "devoted personal attendant and faithful friend" appears upon almost every - page, and is in effect the hero of the book. With an absence of reticence - remarkable in royal persons, Victoria seemed to demand, in this private - and delicate matter, the sympathy of the whole nation; and yet—such - is the world—there were those who actually treated the relations - between their Sovereign and her servant as a theme for ribald jests. - </p> - <p> - II - </p> - <p> - The busy years hastened away; the traces of Time's unimaginable touch grew - manifest; and old age, approaching, laid a gentle hold upon Victoria. The - grey hair whitened; the mature features mellowed; the short firm figure - amplified and moved more slowly, supported by a stick. And, - simultaneously, in the whole tenour of the Queen's existence an - extraordinary transformation came to pass. The nation's attitude towards - her, critical and even hostile as it had been for so many years, - altogether changed; while there was a corresponding alteration in the - temper of—Victoria's own mind. - </p> - <p> - Many causes led to this result. Among them were the repeated strokes of - personal misfortune which befell the Queen during a cruelly short space of - years. In 1878 the Princess Alice, who had married in 1862 the Prince - Louis of Hesse-Darmstadt, died in tragic circumstances. In the following - year the Prince Imperial, the only son of the Empress Eugenie, to whom - Victoria, since the catastrophe of 1870, had become devotedly attached, - was killed in the Zulu War. Two years later, in 1881, the Queen lost Lord - Beaconsfield, and, in 1883, John Brown. In 1884 the Prince Leopold, Duke - of Albany, who had been an invalid from birth, died prematurely, shortly - after his marriage. Victoria's cup of sorrows was indeed overflowing; and - the public, as it watched the widowed mother weeping for her children and - her friends, displayed a constantly increasing sympathy. - </p> - <p> - An event which occurred in 1882 revealed and accentuated the feelings of - the nation. As the Queen, at Windsor, was walking from the train to her - carriage, a youth named Roderick Maclean fired a pistol at her from a - distance of a few yards. An Eton boy struck up Maclean's arm with an - umbrella before the pistol went off; no damage was done, and the culprit - was at once arrested. This was the last of a series of seven attempts upon - the Queen—attempts which, taking place at sporadic intervals over a - period of forty years, resembled one another in a curious manner. All, - with a single exception, were perpetrated by adolescents, whose motives - were apparently not murderous, since, save in the case of Maclean, none of - their pistols was loaded. These unhappy youths, who, after buying their - cheap weapons, stuffed them with gunpowder and paper, and then went off, - with the certainty of immediate detection, to click them in the face of - royalty, present a strange problem to the psychologist. But, though in - each case their actions and their purposes seemed to be so similar, their - fates were remarkably varied. The first of them, Edward Oxford, who fired - at Victoria within a few months of her marriage, was tried for high - treason, declared to be insane, and sent to an asylum for life. It - appears, however, that this sentence did not commend itself to Albert, for - when, two years later, John Francis committed the same of fence, and was - tried upon the same charge, the Prince propounced that there was no - insanity in the matter. "The wretched creature," he told his father, was - "not out of his mind, but a thorough scamp." "I hope," he added, "his - trial will be conducted with the greatest strictness." Apparently it was; - at any rate, the jury shared the view of the Prince, the plea of insanity - was, set aside, and Francis was found guilty of high treason and condemned - to death; but, as there was no proof of an intent to kill or even to - wound, this sentence, after a lengthened deliberation between the Home - Secretary and the Judges, was commuted for one of transportation for life. - As the law stood, these assaults, futile as they were, could only be - treated as high treason; the discrepancy between the actual deed and the - tremendous penalties involved was obviously grotesque; and it was, - besides, clear that a jury, knowing that a verdict of guilty implied a - sentence of death, would tend to the alternative course, and find the - prisoner not guilty but insane—a conclusion which, on the face of - it, would have appeared to be the more reasonable. In 1842, therefore, an - Act was passed making any attempt to hurt the Queen a misdemeanor, - punishable by transportation for seven years, or imprisonment, with or - without hard labour, for a term not exceeding three years—the - misdemeanant, at the discretion of the Court, "to be publicly or privately - whipped, as often, and in such manner and form, as the Court shall direct, - not exceeding thrice." The four subsequent attempts were all dealt with - under this new law; William Bean, in 1842, was sentenced to eighteen - months' imprisonment; William Hamilton, in 1849, was transported for seven - years; and, in 1850, the same sentence was passed upon Lieutenant Robert - Pate, who struck the Queen on the head with his cane in Piccadilly. Pate, - alone among these delinquents, was of mature years; he had held a - commission in the Army, dressed himself as a dandy, and was, the Prince - declared, "manifestly deranged." In 1872 Arthur O'Connor, a youth of - seventeen, fired an unloaded pistol at the Queen outside Buckingham - Palace; he was immediately seized by John Brown, and sentenced to one - year's imprisonment and twenty strokes of the birch rod. It was for his - bravery upon this occasion that Brown was presented with one of his gold - medals. In all these cases the jury had refused to allow the plea of - insanity; but Roderick Maclean's attempt in 1882 had a different issue. On - this occasion the pistol was found to have been loaded, and the public - indignation, emphasised as it was by Victoria's growing popularity, was - particularly great. Either for this or for some other reason the procedure - of the last forty years was abandoned, and Maclean was tried for high - treason. The result was what might have been expected: the jury brought in - a verdict of "not guilty, but insane"; and the prisoner was sent to an - asylum during Her Majesty's pleasure. Their verdict, however, produced a - remarkable consequence. Victoria, who doubtless carried in her mind some - memory of Albert's disapproval of a similar verdict in the case of Oxford, - was very much annoyed. What did the jury mean, she asked, by saying that - Maclean was not guilty? It was perfectly clear that he was guilty—she - had seen him fire off the pistol herself. It was in vain that Her - Majesty's constitutional advisers reminded her of the principle of English - law which lays down that no man can be found guilty of a crime unless he - be proved to have had a criminal intention. Victoria was quite - unconvinced. "If that is the law," she said, "the law must be altered:" - and altered it was. In 1883 an Act was passed changing the form of the - verdict in cases of insanity, and the confusing anomaly remains upon the - Statute Book to this day. - </p> - <p> - But it was not only through the feelings—commiserating or indignant—of - personal sympathy that the Queen and her people were being drawn more - nearly together; they were beginning, at last, to come to a close and - permanent agreement upon the conduct of public affairs. Mr. Gladstone's - second administration (1880-85) was a succession of failures, ending in - disaster and disgrace; liberalism fell into discredit with the country, - and Victoria perceived with joy that her distrust of her Ministers was - shared by an ever-increasing number of her subjects. During the crisis in - the Sudan, the popular temper was her own. She had been among the first to - urge the necessity of an expedition to Khartoum, and, when the news came - of the catastrophic death of General Gordon, her voice led the chorus of - denunciation which raved against the Government. In her rage, she - despatched a fulminating telegram to Mr. Gladstone, not in the usual - cypher, but open; and her letter of condolence to Miss Gordon, in which - she attacked her Ministers for breach of faith, was widely published. It - was rumoured that she had sent for Lord Hartington, the Secretary of State - for War, and vehemently upbraided him. "She rated me," he was reported to - have told a friend, "as if I'd been a footman." "Why didn't she send for - the butler?" asked his friend. "Oh," was the reply, "the butler generally - manages to keep out of the way on such occasions." - </p> - <p> - But the day came when it was impossible to keep out of the way any longer. - Mr. Gladstone was defeated, and resigned. Victoria, at a final interview, - received him with her usual amenity, but, besides the formalities demanded - by the occasion, the only remark which she made to him of a personal - nature was to the effect that she supposed Mr. Gladstone would now require - some rest. He remembered with regret how, at a similar audience in 1874, - she had expressed her trust in him as a supporter of the throne; but he - noted the change without surprise. "Her mind and opinions," he wrote in - his diary afterwards, "have since that day been seriously warped." - </p> - <p> - Such was Mr. Gladstone's view,; but the majority of the nation by no means - agreed with him; and, in the General Election of 1886, they showed - decisively that Victoria's politics were identical with theirs by casting - forth the contrivers of Home Rule—that abomination of desolation—into - outer darkness, and placing Lord Salisbury in power. Victoria's - satisfaction was profound. A flood of new unwonted hopefulness swept over - her, stimulating her vital spirits with a surprising force. Her habit of - life was suddenly altered; abandoning the long seclusion which Disraeli's - persuasions had only momentarily interrupted, she threw herself vigorously - into a multitude of public activities. She appeared at drawing-rooms, at - concerts, at reviews; she laid foundation-stones; she went to Liverpool to - open an international exhibition, driving through the streets in her open - carriage in heavy rain amid vast applauding crowds. Delighted by the - welcome which met her everywhere, she warmed to her work. She visited - Edinburgh, where the ovation of Liverpool was repeated and surpassed. In - London, she opened in high state the Colonial and Indian Exhibition at - South Kensington. On this occasion the ceremonial was particularly - magnificent; a blare of trumpets announced the approach of Her Majesty; - the "Natiohal Anthem" followed; and the Queen, seated on a gorgeous throne - of hammered gold, replied with her own lips to the address that was - presented to her. Then she rose, and, advancing upon the platform with - regal port, acknowledged the acclamations of the great assembly by a - succession of curtseys, of elaborate and commanding grace. - </p> - <p> - Next year was the fiftieth of her reign, and in June the splendid - anniversary was celebrated in solemn pomp. Victoria, surrounded by the - highest dignitaries of her realm, escorted by a glittering galaxy of kings - and princes, drove through the crowded enthusiasm of the capital to render - thanks to God in Westminster Abbey. In that triumphant hour the last - remaining traces of past antipathies and past disagreements were - altogether swept away. The Queen was hailed at once as the mother of her - people and as the embodied symbol of their imperial greatness; and she - responded to the double sentiment with all the ardour of her spirit. - England and the people of England, she knew it, she felt it, were, in some - wonderful and yet quite simple manner, hers. Exultation, affection, - gratitude, a profound sense of obligation, an unbounded pride—such - were her emotions; and, colouring and intensifying the rest, there was - something else. At last, after so long, happiness—fragmentary, - perhaps, and charged with gravity, but true and unmistakable none the less—had - returned to her. The unaccustomed feeling filled and warmed her - consciousness. When, at Buckingham Palace again, the long ceremony over, - she was asked how she was, "I am very tired, but very happy," she said. - </p> - <p> - III - </p> - <p> - And so, after the toils and tempests of the day, a long evening followed—mild, - serene, and lighted with a golden glory. For an unexampled atmosphere of - success and adoration invested the last period of Victoria's life. Her - triumph was the summary, the crown, of a greater triumph—the - culminating prosperity of a nation. The solid splendour of the decade - between Victoria's two jubilees can hardly be paralleled in the annals of - England. The sage counsels of Lord Salisbury seemed to bring with them not - only wealth and power, but security; and the country settled down, with - calm assurance, to the enjoyment of an established grandeur. And—it - was only natural—Victoria settled down too. For she was a part of - the establishment—an essential part as it seemed—a fixture—a - magnificent, immovable sideboard in the huge saloon of state. Without her - the heaped-up banquet of 1890 would have lost its distinctive quality—the - comfortable order of the substantial unambiguous dishes, with their - background of weighty glamour, half out of sight. - </p> - <p> - Her own existence came to harmonise more and more with what was around - her. Gradually, imperceptibly, Albert receded. It was not that he was - forgotten—that would have been impossible—but that the void - created by his absence grew less agonising, and even, at last, less - obvious. At last Victoria found it possible to regret the bad weather - without immediately reflecting that her "dear Albert always said we could - not alter it, but must leave it as it was;" she could even enjoy a good - breakfast without considering how "dear Albert" would have liked the - buttered eggs. And, as that figure slowly faded, its place was taken, - inevitably, by Victoria's own. Her being, revolving for so many years - round an external object, now changed its motion and found its centre in - itself. It had to be so: her domestic position, the pressure of her public - work, her indomitable sense of duty, made anything else impossible. Her - egotism proclaimed its rights. Her age increased still further the - surrounding deference; and her force of character, emerging at length in - all its plenitude, imposed absolutely upon its environment by the - conscious effort of an imperious will. - </p> - <p> - Little by little it was noticed that the outward vestiges of Albert's - posthumous domination grew less complete. At Court the stringency of - mourning was relaxed. As the Queen drove through the Park in her open - carriage with her Highlanders behind her, nursery-maids canvassed eagerly - the growing patch of violet velvet in the bonnet with its jet - appurtenances on the small bowing head. - </p> - <p> - It was in her family that Victoria's ascendancy reached its highest point. - All her offspring were married; the number of her descendants rapidly - increased; there were many marriages in the third generation; and no fewer - than thirty-seven of her great-grandchildren were living at the time of - her death. A picture of the period displays the royal family collected - together in one of the great rooms at Windsor—a crowded company of - more than fifty persons, with the imperial matriarch in their midst. Over - them all she ruled with a most potent sway. The small concerns of the - youngest aroused her passionate interest; and the oldest she treated as if - they were children still. The Prince of Wales, in particular, stood in - tremendous awe of his mother. She had steadily refused to allow him the - slightest participation in the business of government; and he had occupied - himself in other ways. Nor could it be denied that he enjoyed himself—out - of her sight; but, in that redoubtable presence, his abounding manhood - suffered a miserable eclipse. Once, at Osborne, when, owing to no fault of - his, he was too late for a dinner party, he was observed standing behind a - pillar and wiping the sweat from his forehead, trying to nerve himself to - go up to the Queen. When at last he did so, she gave him a stiff nod, - whereupon he vanished immediately behind another pillar, and remained - there until the party broke up. At the time of this incident the Prince of - Wales was over fifty years of age. - </p> - <p> - It was inevitable that the Queen's domestic activities should occasionally - trench upon the domain of high diplomacy; and this was especially the case - when the interests of her eldest daughter, the Crown Princess of Prussia, - were at stake. The Crown Prince held liberal opinions; he was much - influenced by his wife; and both were detested by Bismarck, who declared - with scurrilous emphasis that the Englishwoman and her mother were a - menace to the Prussian State. The feud was still further intensified when, - on the death of the old Emperor (1888), the Crown Prince succeeded to the - throne. A family entanglement brought on a violent crisis. One of the - daughters of the new Empress had become betrothed to Prince Alexander of - Battenberg, who had lately been ejected from the throne of Bulgaria owing - to the hostility of the Tsar. Victoria, as well as the Empress, highly - approved of the match. Of the two brothers of Prince Alexander, the elder - had married another of her grand-daughters, and the younger was the - husband of her daughter, the Princess Beatrice; she was devoted to the - handsome young man; and she was delighted by the prospect of the third - brother—on the whole the handsomest, she thought, of the three—also - becoming a member of her family. Unfortunately, however, Bismarck was - opposed to the scheme. He perceived that the marriage would endanger the - friendship between Germany and Russia, which was vital to his foreign - policy, and he announced that it must not take place. A fierce struggle - between the Empress and the Chancellor followed. Victoria, whose hatred of - her daughter's enemy was unbounded, came over to Charlottenburg to join in - the fray. Bismarck, over his pipe and lager, snorted out his alarm. The - Queen of England's object, he said, was clearly political—she wished - to estrange Germany and Russia—and very likely she would have her - way. "In family matters," he added, "she is not used to contradiction;" - she would "bring the parson with her in her travelling bag and the - bridegroom in her trunk, and the marriage would come off on the spot." But - the man of blood and iron was not to be thwarted so easily, and he asked - for a private interview with the Queen. The details of their conversation - are unknown; but it is certain that in the course of it Victoria was - forced to realise the meaning of resistance to that formidable personage, - and that she promised to use all her influence to prevent the marriage. - The engagement was broken off; and in the following year Prince Alexander - of Battenberg united himself to Fraulein Loisinger, an actress at the - court theatre of Darmstad. - </p> - <p> - But such painful incidents were rare. Victoria was growing very old; with - no Albert to guide her, with no Beaconsfield to enflame her, she was - willing enough to abandon the dangerous questions of diplomacy to the - wisdom of Lord Salisbury, and to concentrate her energies upon objects - which touched her more nearly and over which she could exercise an - undisputed control. Her home—her court—the monuments at - Balmoral—the livestock at Windsor—the organisation of her - engagements—the supervision of the multitudinous details of her - daily routine—such matters played now an even greater part in her - existence than before. Her life passed in an extraordinary exactitude. - Every moment of her day was mapped out beforehand; the succession of her - engagements was immutably fixed; the dates of her journeys—to - Osborne, to Balmoral, to the South of France, to Windsor, to London—were - hardly altered from year to year. She demanded from those who surrounded - her a rigid precision in details, and she was preternaturally quick in - detecting the slightest deviation from the rules which she had laid down. - Such was the irresistible potency of her personality, that anything but - the most implicit obedience to her wishes was felt to be impossible; but - sometimes somebody was unpunctual; and unpunctuality was one of the most - heinous of sins. Then her displeasure—her dreadful displeasure—became - all too visible. At such moments there seemed nothing surprising in her - having been the daughter of a martinet. - </p> - <p> - But these storms, unnerving as they were while they lasted, were quickly - over, and they grew more and more exceptional. With the return of - happiness a gentle benignity flowed from the aged Queen. Her smile, once - so rare a visitant to those saddened features, flitted over them with an - easy alacrity; the blue eyes beamed; the whole face, starting suddenly - from its pendulous expressionlessness, brightened and softened and cast - over those who watched it an unforgettable charm. For in her last years - there was a fascination in Victoria's amiability which had been lacking - even from the vivid impulse of her youth. Over all who approached her—or - very nearly all—she threw a peculiar spell. Her grandchildren adored - her; her ladies waited upon her with a reverential love. The honour of - serving her obliterated a thousand inconveniences—the monotony of a - court existence, the fatigue of standing, the necessity for a superhuman - attentiveness to the minutia: of time and space. As one did one's - wonderful duty one could forget that one's legs were aching from the - infinitude of the passages at Windsor, or that one's bare arms were - turning blue in the Balmoral cold. - </p> - <p> - What, above all, seemed to make such service delightful was the detailed - interest which the Queen took in the circumstances of those around her. - Her absorbing passion for the comfortable commonplaces, the small crises, - the recurrent sentimentalities, of domestic life constantly demanded wider - fields for its activity; the sphere of her own family, vast as it was, was - not enough; she became the eager confidante of the household affairs of - her ladies; her sympathies reached out to the palace domestics; even the - housemaids and scullions—so it appeared—were the objects of - her searching inquiries, and of her heartfelt solicitude when their lovers - were ordered to a foreign station, or their aunts suffered from an attack - of rheumatism which was more than usually acute. - </p> - <p> - Nevertheless the due distinctions of rank were immaculately preserved. The - Queen's mere presence was enough to ensure that; but, in addition, the - dominion of court etiquette was paramount. For that elaborate code, which - had kept Lord Melbourne stiff upon the sofa and ranged the other guests in - silence about the round table according to the order of precedence, was as - punctiliously enforced as ever. Every evening after dinner, the - hearth-rug, sacred to royalty, loomed before the profane in inaccessible - glory, or, on one or two terrific occasions, actually lured them - magnetically forward to the very edge of the abyss. The Queen, at the - fitting moment, moved towards her guests; one after the other they were - led up to her; and, while dialogue followed dialogue in constraint and - embarrassment, the rest of the assembly stood still, without a word. Only - in one particular was the severity of the etiquette allowed to lapse. - Throughout the greater part of the reign the rule that ministers must - stand during their audiences with the Queen had been absolute. When Lord - Derby, the Prime Minister, had an audience of Her Majesty after a serious - illness, he mentioned it afterwards, as a proof of the royal favour, that - the Queen had remarked "How sorry she was she could not ask him to be - seated." Subsequently, Disraeli, after an attack of gout and in a moment - of extreme expansion on the part of Victoria, had been offered a chair; - but he had thought it wise humbly to decline the privilege. In her later - years, however, the Queen invariably asked Mr. Gladstone and Lord - Salisbury to sit down. - </p> - <p> - Sometimes the solemnity of the evening was diversified by a concert, an - opera, or even a play. One of the most marked indications of Victoria's - enfranchisement from the thraldom of widowhood had been her resumption—after - an interval of thirty years—of the custom of commanding dramatic - companies from London to perform before the Court at Windsor. On such - occasions her spirits rose high. She loved acting; she loved a good plot; - above all, she loved a farce. Engrossed by everything that passed upon the - stage she would follow, with childlike innocence, the unwinding of the - story; or she would assume an air of knowing superiority and exclaim in - triumph, "There! You didn't expect that, did you?" when the denouement - came. Her sense of humour was of a vigorous though primitive kind. She had - been one of the very few persons who had always been able to appreciate - the Prince Consort's jokes; and, when those were cracked no more, she - could still roar with laughter, in the privacy of her household, over some - small piece of fun—some oddity of an ambassador, or some ignorant - Minister's faux pas. When the jest grew subtle she was less pleased; but, - if it approached the confines of the indecorous, the danger was serious. - To take a liberty called down at once Her Majesty's most crushing - disapprobation; and to say something improper was to take the greatest - liberty of all. Then the royal lips sank down at the corners, the royal - eyes stared in astonished protrusion, and in fact, the royal countenance - became inauspicious in the highest degree. The transgressor shuddered into - silence, while the awful "We are not amused" annihilated the dinner table. - Afterwards, in her private entourage, the Queen would observe that the - person in question was, she very much feared, "not discreet"; it was a - verdict from which there was no appeal. - </p> - <p> - In general, her aesthetic tastes had remained unchanged since the days of - Mendelssohn, Landseer, and Lablache. She still delighted in the roulades - of Italian opera; she still demanded a high standard in the execution of a - pianoforte duet. Her views on painting were decided; Sir Edwin, she - declared, was perfect; she was much impressed by Lord Leighton's manners; - and she profoundly distrusted Mr. Watts. From time to time she ordered - engraved portraits to be taken of members of the royal family; on these - occasions she would have the first proofs submitted to her, and, having - inspected them with minute particularity, she would point out their - mistakes to the artists, indicating at the same time how they might be - corrected. The artists invariably discovered that Her Majesty's - suggestions were of the highest value. In literature her interests were - more restricted. She was devoted to Lord Tennyson; and, as the Prince - Consort had admired George Eliot, she perused "Middlemarch:" she was - disappointed. There is reason to believe, however, that the romances of - another female writer, whose popularity among the humbler classes of Her - Majesty's subjects was at one time enormous, secured, no less, the - approval of Her Majesty. Otherwise she did not read very much. - </p> - <p> - Once, however, the Queen's attention was drawn to a publication which it - was impossible for her to ignore. "The Greville Memoirs," filled with a - mass of historical information of extraordinary importance, but filled - also with descriptions, which were by no means flattering, of George IV, - William IV, and other royal persons, was brought out by Mr. Reeve. - Victoria read the book, and was appalled. It was, she declared, a - "dreadful and really scandalous book," and she could not say "how - HORRIFIED and INDIGNANT" she was at Greville's "indiscretion, indelicacy, - ingratitude towards friends, betrayal of confidence and shameful - disloyalty towards his Sovereign." She wrote to Disraeli to tell him that - in her opinion it was "VERY IMPORTANT that the book should be severely - censured and discredited." "The tone in which he speaks of royalty," she - added, "is unlike anything one sees in history even, and is most - reprehensible." Her anger was directed with almost equal vehemence against - Mr. Reeve for his having published "such an abominable book," and she - charged Sir Arthur Helps to convey to him her deep displeasure. Mr. Reeve, - however, was impenitent. When Sir Arthur told him that, in the Queen's - opinion, "the book degraded royalty," he replied: "Not at all; it elevates - it by the contrast it offers between the present and the defunct state of - affairs." But this adroit defence failed to make any impression upon - Victoria; and Mr. Reeve, when he retired from the public service, did not - receive the knighthood which custom entitled him to expect. Perhaps if the - Queen had known how many caustic comments upon herself Mr. Reeve had - quietly suppressed in the published Memoirs, she would have been almost - grateful to him; but, in that case, what would she have said of Greville? - Imagination boggles at the thought. As for more modern essays upon the - same topic, Her Majesty, it is to be feared, would have characterised them - as "not discreet." - </p> - <p> - But as a rule the leisure hours of that active life were occupied with - recreations of a less intangible quality than the study of literature or - the appreciation of art. Victoria was a woman not only of vast property - but of innumerable possessions. She had inherited an immense quantity of - furniture, of ornaments, of china, of plate, of valuable objects of every - kind; her purchases, throughout a long life, made a formidable addition to - these stores; and there flowed in upon her, besides, from every quarter of - the globe, a constant stream of gifts. Over this enormous mass she - exercised an unceasing and minute supervision, and the arrangement and the - contemplation of it, in all its details, filled her with an intimate - satisfaction. The collecting instinct has its roots in the very depths of - human nature; and, in the case of Victoria, it seemed to owe its force to - two of her dominating impulses—the intense sense, which had always - been hers, of her own personality, and the craving which, growing with the - years, had become in her old age almost an obsession, for fixity, for - solidity, for the setting up of palpable barriers against the outrages of - change and time. When she considered the multitudinous objects which - belonged to her, or, better still, when, choosing out some section of them - as the fancy took her, she actually savoured the vivid richness of their - individual qualities, she saw herself deliciously reflected from a million - facets, felt herself magnified miraculously over a boundless area, and was - well pleased. That was just as it should be; but then came the dismaying - thought—everything slips away, crumbles, vanishes; Sevres - dinner-services get broken; even golden basins go unaccountably astray; - even one's self, with all the recollections and experiences that make up - one's being, fluctuates, perishes, dissolves... But no! It could not, - should not be so! There should be no changes and no losses! Nothing should - ever move—neither the past nor the present—and she herself - least of all! And so the tenacious woman, hoarding her valuables, decreed - their immortality with all the resolution of her soul. She would not lose - one memory or one pin. - </p> - <p> - She gave orders that nothing should be thrown away—and nothing was. - There, in drawer after drawer, in wardrobe after wardrobe, reposed the - dresses of seventy years. But not only the dresses—the furs and the - mantles and subsidiary frills and the muffs and the parasols and the - bonnets—all were ranged in chronological order, dated and complete. - A great cupboard was devoted to the dolls; in the china room at Windsor a - special table held the mugs of her childhood, and her children's mugs as - well. Mementoes of the past surrounded her in serried accumulations. In - every room the tables were powdered thick with the photographs of - relatives; their portraits, revealing them at all ages, covered the walls; - their figures, in solid marble, rose up from pedestals, or gleamed from - brackets in the form of gold and silver statuettes. The dead, in every - shape—in miniatures, in porcelain, in enormous life-size - oil-paintings—were perpetually about her. John Brown stood upon her - writing-table in solid gold. Her favourite horses and dogs, endowed with a - new durability, crowded round her footsteps. Sharp, in silver gilt, - dominated the dinner table; Boy and Boz lay together among unfading - flowers, in bronze. And it was not enough that each particle of the past - should be given the stability of metal or of marble: the whole collection, - in its arrangement, no less than its entity, should be immutably fixed. - There might be additions, but there might never be alterations. No chintz - might change, no carpet, no curtain, be replaced by another; or, if long - use at last made it necessary, the stuffs and the patterns must be so - identically reproduced that the keenest eye might not detect the - difference. No new picture could be hung upon the walls at Windsor, for - those already there had been put in their places by Albert, whose - decisions were eternal. So, indeed, were Victoria's. To ensure that they - should be the aid of the camera was called in. Every single article in the - Queen's possession was photographed from several points of view. These - photographs were submitted to Her Majesty, and when, after careful - inspection, she had approved of them, they were placed in a series of - albums, richly bound. Then, opposite each photograph, an entry was made, - indicating the number of the article, the number of the room in which it - was kept, its exact position in the room and all its principal - characteristics. The fate of every object which had undergone this process - was henceforth irrevocably sealed. The whole multitude, once and for all, - took up its steadfast station. And Victoria, with a gigantic volume or two - of the endless catalogue always beside her, to look through, to ponder - upon, to expatiate over, could feel, with a double contentment, that the - transitoriness of this world had been arrested by the amplitude of her - might. - </p> - <p> - Thus the collection, ever multiplying, ever encroaching upon new fields of - consciousness, ever rooting itself more firmly in the depths of instinct, - became one of the dominating influences of that strange existence. It was - a collection not merely of things and of thoughts, but of states of mind - and ways of living as well. The celebration of anniversaries grew to be an - important branch of it—of birthdays and marriage days and death - days, each of which demanded its appropriate feeling, which, in its turn, - must be itself expressed in an appropriate outward form. And the form, of - course—the ceremony of rejoicing or lamentation—was - stereotyped with the rest: it was part of the collection. On a certain - day, for instance, flowers must be strewn on John Brown's monument at - Balmoral; and the date of the yearly departure for Scotland was fixed by - that fact. Inevitably it was around the central circumstance of death—death, - the final witness to human mutability—that these commemorative - cravings clustered most thickly. Might not even death itself be humbled, - if one could recall enough—if one asserted, with a sufficiently - passionate and reiterated emphasis, the eternity of love? Accordingly, - every bed in which Victoria slept had attached to it, at the back, on the - right-hand side, above the pillow, a photograph of the head and shoulders - of Albert as he lay dead, surmounted by a wreath of immortelles. At - Balmoral, where memories came crowding so closely, the solid signs of - memory appeared in surprising profusion. Obelisks, pyramids, tombs, - statues, cairns, and seats of inscribed granite, proclaimed Victoria's - dedication to the dead. There, twice a year, on the days that followed her - arrival, a solemn pilgrimage of inspection and meditation was performed. - There, on August 26—Albert's birthday—at the foot of the - bronze statue of him in Highland dress, the Queen, her family, her Court, - her servants, and her tenantry, met together and in silence drank to the - memory of the dead. In England the tokens of remembrance pullulated hardly - less. Not a day passed without some addition to the multifold assemblage—a - gold statuette of Ross, the piper—a life-sized marble group of - Victoria and Albert, in medieval costume, inscribed upon the base with the - words: "Allured to brighter worlds and led the way-" a granite slab in the - shrubbery at Osborne, informing the visitor of "Waldmann: the very - favourite little dachshund of Queen Victoria; who brought him from Baden, - April 1872; died, July 11, 1881." - </p> - <p> - At Frogmore, the great mausoleum, perpetually enriched, was visited almost - daily by the Queen when the Court was at Windsor. But there was another, a - more secret and a hardly less holy shrine. The suite of rooms which Albert - had occupied in the Castle was kept for ever shut away from the eyes of - any save the most privileged. Within those precincts everything remained - as it had been at the Prince's death; but the mysterious preoccupation of - Victoria had commanded that her husband's clothing should be laid afresh, - each evening, upon the bed, and that, each evening, the water should be - set ready in the basin, as if he were still alive; and this incredible - rite was performed with scrupulous regularity for nearly forty years. - </p> - <p> - Such was the inner worship; and still the flesh obeyed the spirit; still - the daily hours of labour proclaimed Victoria's consecration to duty and - to the ideal of the dead. Yet, with the years, the sense of self-sacrifice - faded; the natural energies of that ardent being discharged themselves - with satisfaction into the channel of public work; the love of business - which, from her girlhood, had been strong within her, reasserted itself in - all its vigour, and, in her old age, to have been cut off from her papers - and her boxes would have been, not a relief, but an agony to Victoria. - Thus, though toiling Ministers might sigh and suffer, the whole process of - government continued, till the very end, to pass before her. Nor was that - all; ancient precedent had made the validity of an enormous number of - official transactions dependent upon the application of the royal - sign-manual; and a great proportion of the Queen's working hours was spent - in this mechanical task. Nor did she show any desire to diminish it. On - the contrary, she voluntarily resumed the duty of signing commissions in - the army, from which she had been set free by Act of Parliament, and from - which, during the years of middle life, she had abstained. In no case - would she countenance the proposal that she should use a stamp. But, at - last, when the increasing pressure of business made the delays of the - antiquated system intolerable, she consented that, for certain classes of - documents, her oral sanction should be sufficient. Each paper was read - aloud to her, and she said at the end "Approved." Often, for hours at a - time, she would sit, with Albert's bust in front of her, while the word - "Approved" issued at intervals from her lips. The word came forth with a - majestic sonority; for her voice now—how changed from the silvery - treble of her girlhood—was a contralto, full and strong. - </p> - <p> - IV - </p> - <p> - The final years were years of apotheosis. In the dazzled imagination of - her subjects Victoria soared aloft towards the regions of divinity through - a nimbus of purest glory. Criticism fell dumb; deficiencies which, twenty - years earlier, would have been universally admitted, were now as - universally ignored. That the nation's idol was a very incomplete - representative of the nation was a circumstance that was hardly noticed, - and yet it was conspicuously true. For the vast changes which, out of the - England of 1837, had produced the England of 1897, seemed scarcely to have - touched the Queen. The immense industrial development of the period, the - significance of which had been so thoroughly understood by Albert, meant - little indeed to Victoria. The amazing scientific movement, which Albert - had appreciated no less, left Victoria perfectly cold. Her conception of - the universe, and of man's place in it, and of the stupendous problems of - nature and philosophy remained, throughout her life, entirely unchanged. - Her religion was the religion which she had learnt from the Baroness - Lehzen and the Duchess of Kent. Here, too, it might have been supposed - that Albert's views might have influenced her. For Albert, in matters of - religion, was advanced. Disbelieving altogether in evil spirits, he had - had his doubts about the miracle of the Gaderene Swine. Stockmar, even, - had thrown out, in a remarkable memorandum on the education of the Prince - of Wales, the suggestion that while the child "must unquestionably be - brought up in the creed of the Church of England," it might nevertheless - be in accordance with the spirit of the times to exclude from his - religious training the inculcation of a belief in "the supernatural - doctrines of Christianity." This, however, would have been going too far; - and all the royal children were brought up in complete orthodoxy. Anything - else would have grieved Victoria, though her own conceptions of the - orthodox were not very precise. But her nature, in which imagination and - subtlety held so small a place, made her instinctively recoil from the - intricate ecstasies of High Anglicanism; and she seemed to feel most at - home in the simple faith of the Presbyterian Church of Scotland. This was - what might have been expected; for Lehzen was the daughter of a Lutheran - pastor, and the Lutherans and the Presbyterians have much in common. For - many years Dr. Norman Macleod, an innocent Scotch minister, was her - principal spiritual adviser; and, when he was taken from her, she drew - much comfort from quiet chats about life and death with the cottagers at - Balmoral. Her piety, absolutely genuine, found what it wanted in the sober - exhortations of old John Grant and the devout saws of Mrs. P. Farquharson. - They possessed the qualities, which, as a child of fourteen, she had so - sincerely admired in the Bishop of Chester's "Exposition of the Gospel of - St. Matthew;" they were "just plain and comprehensible and full of truth - and good feeling." The Queen, who gave her name to the Age of Mill and of - Darwin, never got any further than that. - </p> - <p> - From the social movements of her time Victoria was equally remote. Towards - the smallest no less than towards the greatest changes she remained - inflexible. During her youth and middle age smoking had been forbidden in - polite society, and so long as she lived she would not withdraw her - anathema against it. Kings might protest; bishops and ambassadors, invited - to Windsor, might be reduced, in the privacy of their bedrooms, to lie - full-length upon the floor and smoke up the chimney—the interdict - continued! It might have been supposed that a female sovereign would have - lent her countenance to one of the most vital of all the reforms to which - her epoch gave birth—the emancipation of women—but, on the - contrary, the mere mention of such a proposal sent the blood rushing to - her head. In 1870, her eye having fallen upon the report of a meeting in - favour of Women's Suffrage, she wrote to Mr. Martin in royal rage—"The - Queen is most anxious to enlist everyone who can speak or write to join in - checking this mad, wicked folly of 'Woman's Rights,' with all its - attendant horrors, on which her poor feeble sex is bent, forgetting every - sense of womanly feeling and propriety. Lady—ought to get a GOOD - WHIPPING. It is a subject which makes the Queen so furious that she cannot - contain herself. God created men and women different—then let them - remain each in their own position. Tennyson has some beautiful lines on - the difference of men and women in 'The Princess.' Woman would become the - most hateful, heartless, and disgusting of human beings were she allowed - to unsex herself; and where would be the protection which man was intended - to give the weaker sex? The Queen is sure that Mrs. Martin agrees with - her." The argument was irrefutable; Mrs. Martin agreed; and yet the canker - spread. - </p> - <p> - In another direction Victoria's comprehension of the spirit of her age has - been constantly asserted. It was for long the custom for courtly - historians and polite politicians to compliment the Queen upon the - correctness of her attitude towards the Constitution. But such praises - seem hardly to be justified by the facts. In her later years Victoria more - than once alluded with regret to her conduct during the Bedchamber crisis, - and let it be understood that she had grown wiser since. Yet in truth it - is difficult to trace any fundamental change either in her theory or her - practice in constitutional matters throughout her life. The same despotic - and personal spirit which led her to break off the negotiations with Peel - is equally visible in her animosity towards Palmerston, in her threats of - abdication to Disraeli, and in her desire to prosecute the Duke of - Westminster for attending a meeting upon Bulgarian atrocities. The complex - and delicate principles of the Constitution cannot be said to have come - within the compass of her mental faculties; and in the actual developments - which it underwent during her reign she played a passive part. From 1840 - to 1861 the power of the Crown steadily increased in England; from 1861 to - 1901 it steadily declined. The first process was due to the influence of - the Prince Consort, the second to that of a series of great Ministers. - During the first Victoria was in effect a mere accessory; during the - second the threads of power, which Albert had so laboriously collected, - inevitably fell from her hands into the vigorous grasp of Mr. Gladstone, - Lord Beaconsfield, and Lord Salisbury. Perhaps, absorbed as she was in - routine, and difficult as she found it to distinguish at all clearly - between the trivial and the essential, she was only dimly aware of what - was happening. Yet, at the end of her reign, the Crown was weaker than at - any other time in English history. Paradoxically enough, Victoria received - the highest eulogiums for assenting to a political evolution, which, had - she completely realised its import, would have filled her with supreme - displeasure. - </p> - <p> - Nevertheless it must not be supposed that she was a second George III. Her - desire to impose her will, vehement as it was, and unlimited by any - principle, was yet checked by a certain shrewdness. She might oppose her - Ministers with extraordinary violence, she might remain utterly impervious - to arguments and supplications; the pertinacity of her resolution might - seem to be unconquerable; but, at the very last moment of all, her - obstinacy would give way. Her innate respect and capacity for business, - and perhaps, too, the memory of Albert's scrupulous avoidance of extreme - courses, prevented her from ever entering an impasse. By instinct she - understood when the facts were too much for her, and to them she - invariably yielded. After all, what else could she do? - </p> - <p> - But if, in all these ways, the Queen and her epoch were profoundly - separated, the points of contact between them also were not few. Victoria - understood very well the meaning and the attractions of power and - property, and in such learning the English nation, too, had grown to be - more and more proficient. During the last fifteen years of the reign—for - the short Liberal Administration of 1892 was a mere interlude imperialism - was the dominant creed of the country. It was Victoria's as well. In this - direction, if in no other, she had allowed her mind to develop. Under - Disraeli's tutelage the British Dominions over the seas had come to mean - much more to her than ever before, and, in particular, she had grown - enamoured of the East. The thought of India fascinated her; she set to, - and learnt a little Hindustani; she engaged some Indian servants, who - became her inseparable attendants, and one of whom, Munshi Abdul Karim, - eventually almost succeeded to the position which had once been John - Brown's. At the same time, the imperialist temper of the nation invested - her office with a new significance exactly harmonising with her own inmost - proclivities. The English polity was in the main a common-sense structure, - but there was always a corner in it where common-sense could not enter—where, - somehow or other, the ordinary measurements were not applicable and the - ordinary rules did not apply. So our ancestors had laid it down, giving - scope, in their wisdom, to that mystical element which, as it seems, can - never quite be eradicated from the affairs of men. Naturally it was in the - Crown that the mysticism of the English polity was concentrated—the - Crown, with its venerable antiquity, its sacred associations, its imposing - spectacular array. But, for nearly two centuries, common-sense had been - predominant in the great building, and the little, unexplored, - inexplicable corner had attracted small attention. Then, with the rise of - imperialism, there was a change. For imperialism is a faith as well as a - business; as it grew, the mysticism in English public life grew with it; - and simultaneously a new importance began to attach to the Crown. The need - for a symbol—a symbol of England's might, of England's worth, of - England's extraordinary and mysterious destiny—became felt more - urgently than ever before. The Crown was that symbol: and the Crown rested - upon the head of Victoria. Thus it happened that while by the end of the - reign the power of the sovereign had appreciably diminished, the prestige - of the sovereign had enormously grown. - </p> - <p> - Yet this prestige was not merely the outcome of public changes; it was an - intensely personal matter, too. Victoria was the Queen of England, the - Empress of India, the quintessential pivot round which the whole - magnificent machine was revolving—but how much more besides! For one - thing, she was of a great age—an almost indispensable qualification - for popularity in England. She had given proof of one of the most admired - characteristics of the race—persistent vitality. She had reigned for - sixty years, and she was not out. And then, she was a character. The - outlines of her nature were firmly drawn, and, even through the mists - which envelop royalty, clearly visible. In the popular imagination her - familiar figure filled, with satisfying ease, a distinct and memorable - place. It was, besides, the kind of figure which naturally called forth - the admiring sympathy of the great majority of the nation. Goodness they - prized above every other human quality; and Victoria, who had said that - she would be good at the age of twelve, had kept her word. Duty, - conscience, morality—yes! in the light of those high beacons the - Queen had always lived. She had passed her days in work and not in - pleasure—in public responsibilities and family cares. The standard - of solid virtue which had been set up so long ago amid the domestic - happiness of Osborne had never been lowered for an instant. For more than - half a century no divorced lady had approached the precincts of the Court. - Victoria, indeed, in her enthusiasm for wifely fidelity, had laid down a - still stricter ordinance: she frowned severely upon any widow who married - again. Considering that she herself was the offspring of a widow's second - marriage, this prohibition might be regarded as an eccentricity; but, no - doubt, it was an eccentricity on the right side. The middle classes, firm - in the triple brass of their respectability, rejoiced with a special joy - over the most respectable of Queens. They almost claimed her, indeed, as - one of themselves; but this would have been an exaggeration. For, though - many of her characteristics were most often found among the middle - classes, in other respects—in her manners, for instance—Victoria - was decidedly aristocratic. And, in one important particular, she was - neither aristocratic nor middle-class: her attitude toward herself was - simply regal. - </p> - <p> - Such qualities were obvious and important; but, in the impact of a - personality, it is something deeper, something fundamental and common to - all its qualities, that really tells. In Victoria, it is easy to discern - the nature of this underlying element: it was a peculiar sincerity. Her - truthfulness, her single-mindedness, the vividness of her emotions and her - unrestrained expression of them, were the varied forms which this central - characteristic assumed. It was her sincerity which gave her at once her - impressiveness, her charm, and her absurdity. She moved through life with - the imposing certitude of one to whom concealment was impossible—either - towards her surroundings or towards herself. There she was, all of her—the - Queen of England, complete and obvious; the world might take her or leave - her; she had nothing more to show, or to explain, or to modify; and, with - her peerless carriage, she swept along her path. And not only was - concealment out of the question; reticence, reserve, even dignity itself, - as it sometimes seemed, might be very well dispensed with. As Lady - Lyttelton said: "There is a transparency in her truth that is very - striking—not a shade of exaggeration in describing feelings or - facts; like very few other people I ever knew. Many may be as true, but I - think it goes often along with some reserve. She talks all out; just as it - is, no more and no less." She talked all out; and she wrote all out, too. - Her letters, in the surprising jet of their expression, remind one of a - turned-on tap. What is within pours forth in an immediate, spontaneous - rush. Her utterly unliterary style has at least the merit of being a - vehicle exactly suited to her thoughts and feelings; and even the - platitude of her phraseology carries with it a curiously personal flavour. - Undoubtedly it was through her writings that she touched the heart of the - public. Not only in her "Highland Journals" where the mild chronicle of - her private proceedings was laid bare without a trace either of - affectation or of embarrassment, but also in those remarkable messages to - the nation which, from time to time, she published in the newspapers, her - people found her very close to them indeed. They felt instinctively - Victoria's irresistible sincerity, and they responded. And in truth it was - an endearing trait. - </p> - <p> - The personality and the position, too—the wonderful combination of - them—that, perhaps, was what was finally fascinating in the case. - The little old lady, with her white hair and her plain mourning clothes, - in her wheeled chair or her donkey-carriage—one saw her so; and then—close - behind—with their immediate suggestion of singularity, of mystery, - and of power—the Indian servants. That was the familiar vision, and - it was admirable; but, at chosen moments, it was right that the widow of - Windsor should step forth apparent Queen. The last and the most glorious - of such occasions was the Jubilee of 1897. Then, as the splendid - procession passed along, escorting Victoria through the thronged - re-echoing streets of London on her progress of thanksgiving to St. Paul's - Cathedral, the greatness of her realm and the adoration of her subjects - blazed out together. The tears welled to her eyes, and, while the - multitude roared round her, "How kind they are to me! How kind they are!" - she repeated over and over again. That night her message flew over the - Empire: "From my heart I thank my beloved people. May God bless them!" The - long journey was nearly done. But the traveller, who had come so far, and - through such strange experiences, moved on with the old unfaltering step. - The girl, the wife, the aged woman, were the same: vitality, - conscientiousness, pride, and simplicity were hers to the latest hour. - </p> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER X. THE END - </h2> - <p> - The evening had been golden; but, after all, the day was to close in cloud - and tempest. Imperial needs, imperial ambitions, involved the country in - the South African War. There were checks, reverses, bloody disasters; for - a moment the nation was shaken, and the public distresses were felt with - intimate solicitude by the Queen. But her spirit was high, and neither her - courage nor her confidence wavered for a moment. Throwing her self heart - and soul into the struggle, she laboured with redoubled vigour, interested - herself in every detail of the hostilities, and sought by every means in - her power to render service to the national cause. In April 1900, when she - was in her eighty-first year, she made the extraordinary decision to - abandon her annual visit to the South of France, and to go instead to - Ireland, which had provided a particularly large number of recruits to the - armies in the field. She stayed for three weeks in Dublin, driving through - the streets, in spite of the warnings of her advisers, without an armed - escort; and the visit was a complete success. But, in the course of it, - she began, for the first time, to show signs of the fatigue of age. - </p> - <p> - For the long strain and the unceasing anxiety, brought by the war, made - themselves felt at last. Endowed by nature with a robust constitution, - Victoria, though in periods of depression she had sometimes supposed - herself an invalid, had in reality throughout her life enjoyed remarkably - good health. In her old age, she had suffered from a rheumatic stiffness - of the joints, which had necessitated the use of a stick, and, eventually, - a wheeled chair; but no other ailments attacked her, until, in 1898, her - eyesight began to be affected by incipient cataract. After that, she found - reading more and more difficult, though she could still sign her name, and - even, with some difficulty, write letters. In the summer of 1900, however, - more serious symptoms appeared. Her memory, in whose strength and - precision she had so long prided herself, now sometimes deserted her; - there was a tendency towards aphasia; and, while no specific disease - declared itself, by the autumn there were unmistakable signs of a general - physical decay. Yet, even in these last months, the strain of iron held - firm. The daily work continued; nay, it actually increased; for the Queen, - with an astonishing pertinacity, insisted upon communicating personally - with an ever-growing multitude of men and women who had suffered through - the war. - </p> - <p> - By the end of the year the last remains of her ebbing strength had almost - deserted her; and through the early days of the opening century it was - clear that her dwindling forces were only kept together by an effort of - will. On January 14, she had at Osborne an hour's interview with Lord - Roberts, who had returned victorious from South Africa a few days before. - She inquired with acute anxiety into all the details of the war; she - appeared to sustain the exertion successfully; but, when the audience was - over, there was a collapse. On the following day her medical attendants - recognised that her state was hopeless; and yet, for two days more, the - indomitable spirit fought on; for two days more she discharged the duties - of a Queen of England. But after that there was an end of working; and - then, and not till then, did the last optimism of those about her break - down. The brain was failing, and life was gently slipping away. Her family - gathered round her; for a little more she lingered, speechless and - apparently insensible; and, on January 22, 1901, she died. - </p> - <p> - When, two days previously, the news of the approaching end had been made - public, astonished grief had swept over the country. It appeared as if - some monstrous reversal of the course of nature was about to take place. - The vast majority of her subjects had never known a time when Queen - Victoria had not been reigning over them. She had become an indissoluble - part of their whole scheme of things, and that they were about to lose her - appeared a scarcely possible thought. She herself, as she lay blind and - silent, seemed to those who watched her to be divested of all thinking—to - have glided already, unawares, into oblivion. Yet, perhaps, in the secret - chambers of consciousness, she had her thoughts, too. Perhaps her fading - mind called up once more the shadows of the past to float before it, and - retraced, for the last time, the vanished visions of that long history—passing - back and back, through the cloud of years, to older and ever older - memories—to the spring woods at Osborne, so full of primroses for - Lord Beaconsfield—to Lord Palmerston's queer clothes and high - demeanour, and Albert's face under the green lamp, and Albert's first stag - at Balmoral, and Albert in his blue and silver uniform, and the Baron - coming in through a doorway, and Lord M. dreaming at Windsor with the - rooks cawing in the elm-trees, and the Archbishop of Canterbury on his - knees in the dawn, and the old King's turkey-cock ejaculations, and Uncle - Leopold's soft voice at Claremont, and Lehzen with the globes, and her - mother's feathers sweeping down towards her, and a great old - repeater-watch of her father's in its tortoise-shell case, and a yellow - rug, and some friendly flounces of sprigged muslin, and the trees and the - grass at Kensington. - </p> - <p> - <a name="link2H_BIBL" id="link2H_BIBL"> - <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - BIBLIOGRAPHY AND LIST OF REFERENCES IN THE NOTES, ARRANGED - </h2> - <p> - ALPHABETICALLY. - </p> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - Adams. The Education of Henry Adams: an autobiography. 1918. - - Ashley. The Life and Correspondence of H.J. Temple, Viscount - Palmerston. By - A.E.M. Ashley. 2 vols. 1879. - - Bloomfield. Reminiscences of Court and Diplomatic Life. By - Georgiana, Lady - Bloomfield. 2 vols. 1883. - - Broughton. Recollections of a Long Life. By Lord Brougton. - Edited by Lady - Dorchester. 6 vols. 1909-11. - - Buckle. The life of Benjamin Disraeli, Earl of Beaconsfield. - By W.F. Monypenny - and G.E. Buckle. 6 vols. 1910-20. - - Bulow. Gabriele von Bulow, 1791-1887. Berlin. 1893. - - Bunsen. A Memoir of Baron Bunsen. By his widow, Frances, - Baroness Bunsen. 2 - vols. 1868. - - Busch. Bismarck: some secret pages of history. By Dr. Moritz - Busch. (English - translation.) 8 vols. 1898. - - Childers. The Life and Correspondence of the Rt. Hon. Hugh - C.E. Childers. 2 - vols. 1901. - - Clarendon. The Life and Letters of the Fourth Earl of - Clarendon. By Sir - Herbert Maxwell. 2 vols. 1913. - - Cornhill Magazine, vol. 75. - - Crawford. Victoria, Queen and Ruler. By Emily Crawford. 1903. - - Creevey. The Creevey Papers. Edited by Sir Herbert Maxwell. 2 - vols. 1904. - - Croker. The Croker Papers. Edited by L.J. Jennings. 1884. - - Dafforne. The Albert Memorial: its history and description. By - J. Dafforne. - 1877. - - Dalling. The Life of H.J. Temple, Viscount Palmerston. By Lord - Dalling. 3 - vols. 1871-84. - - Dictionary of National Biography. - - Disraeli. Lord George Bentinck: a political biography. By B. - Disraeli. 1852. - - Eckardstein. Lebens-Erinnerungen u. Politische - Denkwurdigheiten. Von Freiherrn - v. Eckardstein. 2 vols. Leipzig. 1919. - - Ernest. Memoirs of Ernest II, Duke of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha. 4 - vols. 1888. - (English translation.) - - Fitzmaurice. The Life of Earl Granville. By Lord Fitzmaurice. - 2 vols. 1905. - - Gaskell. The Life of Charlotte Bronte. By Mrs. Gaskell. 2 - vols. 1857. - - Girlhood. The Girlhood of Queen Victoria. Edited by Viscount - Esher. 2 vols. - 1912. - - Gossart. Adolphe Quetelet et le Prince Albert de Saxe-Cobourg. - Academie Royale - de Belgique. Bruxelles. 1919. - - Granville. Letters of Harriet, Countess Granville. 2 vols. 1894. - - Greville. The Greville Memoirs. 8 vols. (Silver Library - Edition.) 1896. - - Grey. Early Years of the Prince Consort. By General Charles - Grey. 1867. - - Halle. Life and Letters of Sir Charles Halle. Edited by his - Son. 1896. - - Hamilton. Parliamentary Reminiscences and Reflections. By Lord - George - Hamilton. 1917. - - Hare. The Story of My Life. By Augustus J.C. Hare. 6 vols. - 1896-1900. - - Haydon. Autobiography of Benjamin Robert Haydon. 3 vols. 1853. - - Hayward. Sketches of Eminent Statesmen and Writers. By A. - Hayward. 2 vols. - 1880. - - Huish. The History of the Life and Reign of William the - Fourth. By Robert - Huish. 1837. - - Hunt. The Old Court Suburb: or Memorials of Kensington, regal, - critical, and - anecdotal. 2 vols. 1855. - - Jerrold, Early Court. The Early Court of Queen Victoria. By - Clare Jerrold. - 1912. - - Jerrold, Married Life. The Married Life of Queen Victoria. By - Clare Jerrold. - 1913. - - Jerrold, Widowhood. The Widowhood of Queen Victoria. By Clare - Jerrold. 1916. - - Kinglake. The Invasion of the Crimea. By A.W. Kinglake. 9 - vols. (Cabinet - Edition.) 1877-88. - - Knight. The Autobiography of Miss Cornelia Knight. 2 vols. 1861. - - Laughton. Memoirs of the Life and Correspondence of Henry - Reeve. By Sir John - Laughton. 2 vols. 1898. - - Leaves. Leaves from the Journal of our Life in the Highlands, - from 1848 to - 1861. By Queen Victoria. Edited by A. Helps. 1868. - - Lee. Queen Victoria: a biography. By Sidney Lee. 1902. - - Leslie. Autobiographical Recollections by the late Charles - Robert Leslie, R.A. - Edited by Tom Taylor. 2 vols. 1860. - - Letters. The Letters of Queen Victoria. 3 vols. 1908. - - Lieven. Letters of Dorothea, Princess Lieven, during her - residence in London, - 1812-1834. Edited by Lionel G. Robinson. 1902. - - The London Mercury. - - Lovely Albert! A Broadside. - - Lyttelton. Correspondence of Sarah Spencer, Lady Lyttelton, - 1787-1870. Edited - by Mrs. Hugh Wyndham. 1912. - - Martin. The Life of His Royal Highness the Prince Consort. By - Theodore Martin. - 5 vols. 1875-80. - - Martin, Queen Victoria. Queen Victoria as I knew her. By Sir - Theodore Martin. - 1908. - - Martineau. The Autobiography of Harriet Martineau. 3 vols. 1877. - - Maxwell. The Hon. Sir Charles Murray, K.C.B.: a memoir. By Sir - Herbert - Maxwell. 1898. - - More Leaves. More Leaves from the Journal of a Life in the - Highlands, from - 1862 to 1882. By Queen Victoria. 1884. - - Morley. The Life of William Ewart Gladstone. By John Morley. 5 - vols. 1903. - - Murray. Recollections from 1803 to 1837. By the Hon. Amelia - Murray. 1868. - - National Memorial. The National Memorial to H.R.H. the Prince - Consort. 1873. - - Neele. Railway Reminiscences. By George P. Neele. 1904. - - Owen. The Life of Robert Owen written by himself. 1857. - - Owen, Journal. Owen's Rational Quarterly Review and Journal. - - Panam. A German Prince and his Victim. Taken from the Memoirs - of Madame - Pauline Panam. 1915. - - Private Life. The Private Life of the Queen. By One of Her - Majesty's Servants. - 1897. - - The Quarterly Review, vols. 193 and 213. - - Robertson. Bismarck. By C. Grant Robertson. 1918. - - Scott Personal and Professional Recollections. By Sir George - Gilbert Scott. - 1879. - - Smith. Life of Her Majesty Queen Victoria. Compiled from all - available - sources. By G. Barnett Smith. 1887. - - Spinster Lady. The Notebooks of a Spinster Lady. 1919. - - Stein. Denkschriftenuber Deutsche Verfassunyen. Herausgegeben - von G.H. Pertz. - 6 vols. 1848. - - Stockmar. Denkwurdigkeiten aus den Papieren des Freiherrn - Christian Friedrich - v. Stockmar, zusammengestellt von Ernst Freiherr v. Stockmar. - Braunschweig. - 1872. - - Tait. The Life of Archibald Campbell Tait, Archbishop of - Canterbury. 2 vols. - 1891. - - The London Times. The Times Life. The Life of Queen Victoria, - reproduced from - The London Times. 1901. - - Torrens. Memoirs of William Lamb, second Viscount Melbourne. - By W. M. Torrens. - (Minerva Library Edition.) 1890. - - Vitzhum. St. Petersburg und London in den Jahren 1852-1864. - Carl Friedrich - Graf Vitzthum von Eckstadt. Stuttgart. 1886. - - Walpole. The Life of Lord John Russell. By Sir Spencer - Walpole. 2 vols. 1889. - - Wilberforce, Samuel. Life of Samuel Wilberforce, Bishop of - Oxford. By his son, - R.G. Wilberforce. 3 vols. 1881. - - Wilberforce, William. The Life of William Wilberforce. 5 vols. - 1838. - - Wynn. Diaries of a Lady of Quality. By Miss Frances Williams - Wynn. 1864. -</pre> - <div style="height: 6em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Queen Victoria, by Lytton Strachey - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK QUEEN VICTORIA *** - -***** This file should be named 1265-h.htm or 1265-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/1/2/6/1265/ - -Produced by An Anonymous Volunteer and David Widger - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, -set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to -copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to -protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project -Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you -charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you -do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the -rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose -such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and -research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do -practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is -subject to the trademark license, especially commercial -redistribution. - - - -*** START: FULL LICENSE *** - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project -Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at -http://gutenberg.org/license). - - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy -all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. -If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the -terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or -entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement -and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic -works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" -or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the -collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an -individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are -located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from -copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative -works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg -are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project -Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by -freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of -this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with -the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by -keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project -Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in -a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check -the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement -before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or -creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project -Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning -the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United -States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate -access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently -whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, -copied or distributed: - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived -from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is -posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied -and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees -or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work -with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the -work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 -through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the -Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or -1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional -terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked -to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the -permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any -word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or -distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than -"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version -posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), -you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a -copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon -request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other -form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided -that - -- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is - owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he - has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the - Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments - must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you - prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax - returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and - sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the - address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to - the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." - -- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or - destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium - and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of - Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any - money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days - of receipt of the work. - -- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set -forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from -both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael -Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the -Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm -collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic -works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain -"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or -corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual -property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a -computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by -your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with -your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with -the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a -refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity -providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to -receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy -is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further -opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER -WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO -WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. -If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the -law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be -interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by -the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any -provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance -with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, -promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, -harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, -that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do -or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm -work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any -Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. - - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers -including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists -because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from -people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. -To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation -and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 -and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org. - - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive -Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at -http://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent -permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. -Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered -throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at -809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email -business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact -information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official -page at http://pglaf.org - -For additional contact information: - Dr. Gregory B. Newby - Chief Executive and Director - gbnewby@pglaf.org - - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide -spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To -SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any -particular state visit http://pglaf.org - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. -To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate - - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic -works. - -Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm -concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared -with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project -Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. - - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. -unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily -keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. - - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: - - http://www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. - - -</pre> - </body> -</html> |