The Queen's Husband (15 page)

They rose early next morning and before breakfast they took a walk in what Albert called the wonderful fresh air.

February air was indeed fresh, commented Victoria, but it did not matter because she glowed from the warmth of Albert’s love; and she told him that there was nowhere she would rather be than walking in the gardens at Windsor on a cold February morning with her dearest husband at her side.

She was so hungry, she told him; she was ready for a good breakfast.

Albert smiled indulgently and said she was like a child.

‘Don’t forget, Albert,’ she laughed. ‘I am three months older than you.’

‘No one would believe it,’ he said.

‘They know it.’ She was solemn suddenly. ‘That is one of the drawbacks of being royal. People know
everything
about one.’

‘Everything?’ he queried. ‘Isn’t my dearest Victoria inclined to exaggerate?’

‘I was not aware of it.’

‘Well your remark was not exactly
truthful
.’

She looked concerned. ‘And one
must
be truthful. I will remember in future. Thank you, Albert, for pointing it out. I see that you are going to be
good
for me.’

He loved her in that moment. All was going to be well. She was enchanting, his dear little wife. He had been overawed because of the manner in which those around her behaved to the Queen.

‘Come, my precious angel,’ she said, ‘let us go in to breakfast.’

Hand in hand they entered the castle, where an unpleasant surprise was awaiting Albert.

The Baroness Lehzen was seated at the breakfast table. She scarcely looked at the Prince; her eyes went at once to Victoria.

‘Good morning, dearest Daisy,’ said Victoria. Daisy! Her name was not Daisy. He had discovered all he could about this Lutheran pastor’s daughter and he knew that her name was Louise.

‘My precious love, how are you this morning?’

‘Oh, so happy, my dear.’

The Baroness gave a nod of approval. Then she said good morning to the Prince as though she had just become aware of him.

She poured Victoria’s coffee.

‘Just as you like it, my love.’

‘Oh, thank you, dear Lehzen.’

Lehzen handed Albert his coffee.

He was mortified and angry, but he could not show it. Their first breakfast the morning after their wedding day and the Baroness Lehzen had to share it with them!

  Chapter VI  

THE HONEYMOON IS OVER

On the third day after the wedding, the honeymoon was over and the Duchess of Kent arrived at Windsor accompanied by Albert’s brother and father.

Albert was delighted to see them; he felt that his father and brother would give him support; as for the Duchess, she made a special point of being gracious to him, telling him that she felt already that she had another son. Being indiscreet she hinted that Victoria was not the most grateful of daughters but that she had been led astray by a certain person – not very far from them at this moment, and indeed never very far from the Queen – and this was a matter of great grief to her.

Albert knew that the Duchess’s enemy was the Baroness Lehzen and he was beginning to regard that tiresome woman as his also, which made a bond between him and his mother-in-law.

The Duchess put her finger to her lips in a conspiratorial gesture when she told him this; and as they could talk in German, which came easier to the Duchess than English in spite of the years she had lived in England, they understood each other very well.

They were allies from the very beginning.

It seemed that the entire Court was soon invading the privacy of Windsor. Lord Melbourne arrived and the effect this had on Victoria was startling. If he had been her own father she could not have treated him with greater respect and affection. She called him her dear Prime Minister and affectionately Lord M; they were always talking together; and often she would be alone in one of the closets with him, or they would walk together in the gardens.

The Duchess told Albert confidentially that Victoria was rather impulsive and had become attached to Lord Melbourne as she was inclined to do with certain people. Perhaps Albert might suggest to her at some time that there was no need to be quite so friendly with any of her ministers.

In less than a week after the wedding Victoria and Albert were back in London. There were levees and receptions and Albert was beginning to feel more and more wretched every day.

Now that the glamour of the wedding was over the press was looking critically at Albert and unpleasant cartoons and lampoons were appearing each day. Some said that Albert had come over to help himself to English gold; others said the Queen was master in the house and the Prince merely there for one purpose.

There were even unpleasant and rather coarse sketches on the stage concerning the royal pair. One comment was that they were seen walking early in the morning following the bridal night, and this was not the way to provide the country with a Prince of Wales. But money was the main theme of these comments. The Coburgs had a reputation for easing themselves into the best positions in Europe. Albert was accused of being greedy, of trying to snatch the crown from Victoria’s head, of selling himself to the Queen of England for £30,000 a year which was a fortune to a man who had only £2,500.

It was humiliating. In his father’s kingdom it would not have been allowed.

‘We cannot interfere with the liberty of the press,’ Victoria told him. ‘Lord Melbourne is constantly saying this.’

‘So we have to accept these coarse libels?’

‘They have always been, Albert. We must forget them.’

‘That,’ he said coolly, ‘is very difficult.’

‘My dearest Albert, I assure you when these things are said of you it hurts me far more than when they are said of me.’

He embraced her. ‘You are a good wife,’ he told her.

‘That is what I want to be. I shall strive all my life to please you, Albert.’

How could he help feeling hopeful when she said such things, for she was so frank and she always meant what she said.

The cynical new version of the National Anthem did not exactly displease him. They were singing it in the streets now; and often he heard the words whispered below those of the original ones.

God save sweet Vic, mine Queen

Long live mine little Queen
,

God save de Queen
.

Albert is victorious

De Coburgs now are glorious

All so notorious

God save the Queen
.

Ah, Melbourne, soon arise

To get me de supplies

My means are small
.

Confound Peel’s politics

Frustrate de Tory tricks

At dem now go like bricks

God damn dem all
.

The greatest gifts in store

On me be pleased to pour
,

And let me reign
.

Mine Vic has vowed today

To honour and obey

And I will have de sway

Albert de King
.

He was not sure whether he would rather be thought of as a man scheming for a kingdom or as a helpless boy who must obey his wife.

They were back in Buckingham Palace. Victoria was happy and did not understand that Albert was not entirely so. Her days were fully occupied. There were always state papers awaiting her signature; there were interviews with Lord Melbourne; there were secret conferences with Baroness Lehzen and there was Albert. She told him that the happiest part of the day was when they walked together in the garden, arm in arm, and the dogs gambolled around. She feared darling Dash was getting rather old. He didn’t play quite as madly as he used to; but perhaps she was comparing him with dearest Albert’s lovely Eos.

There was always music. How she loved this shared interest! She would listen enraptured while Albert played something from Haydn – one of his favourite composers; and when they sang a duet together that was perfect bliss.

‘Our voices are in complete harmony, dear Albert, as everything else about us.’

But he had his doubts. He was horrified that she scarcely knew the names of any trees or plants. ‘Oh, is it?’ she would say happily when he told her. The birds were unknown to her. She could not tell the difference between a blackbird and a thrush.

‘How have you been educated?’ he demanded in tender exasperation.

‘Oh, dear Daisy and I were never very interested in that sort of thing.’

‘Daisy! You mean Baroness Lehzen. That is surely not her name.’

‘It is
my
name for her. I christened her. I think it is a dear delightful name and suits her. I used to call her Mother once, for that was how I thought of her, but somehow that did not seem quite right.’

‘It certainly does not,’ said Albert severely.

‘Oh, dear Albert, you are so easily shocked. Which is right, of course,’ she added hastily. ‘I fear you are very good.’

‘Goodness is nothing to fear, dear angel.’

‘It is something to strive for, I know, Albert. But you are so
very
good.’

‘I am a little grieved that you and your mother seem to be on bad terms.’

‘Oh, Mama can be very trying.’

‘My dearest Victoria, I am pained to hear you talk thus of your mother.’

‘
Dear
Albert, if you could know what it was like at Kensington before I became Queen. I was more or less a prisoner. And Mama was constantly quarrelling with my uncle King William and his wife. And you know Aunt Adelaide is the sweetest woman. She would never quarrel with anyone unless they forced her to it; and believe me, Mama did. There have been occasions when I have been really ashamed.’

‘My love, we both wish to obey the commandments I believe, and there is one which begins – “Honour thy father and thy mother”.’

‘My dear love, you are so good yourself that you cannot conceive how tiresome some people can be. Now we will talk of something else because I am weary of the subject.’

There spoke the Queen. Not, Albert, please let us talk of something else, but we will.

He would have to explain that he must have some authority in his own home. He was not here just as a means of giving her an heir to the throne. He was a man; he was a husband; and although she might be Queen, she was also his wife.

But she was rattling on now about dear Lord Melbourne. He was looking older, she thought, and she feared he tired himself out. She was going to speak to him
very
severely because he obviously did not take enough care of himself.

Albert thought she saw a little too much of Lord Melbourne. Was it necessary?

‘My dear Albert, it is
absolutely
necessary for me to be continually in touch with my Prime Minister. I am the Queen.’

‘We cannot forget that,’ said Albert with some irony which was lost on her.

She must return to her work, she told him; there were state papers to be looked through and signed.

‘Albert, my love, you have no idea of the amount of papers I have to read.’