The Queen's Husband (19 page)

She laughed. ‘Albert, I shall not throw another cup of tea at you.’

‘Do so if you wish – providing of course it is not too hot and too large.’

She laughed; and he laughed with her. She clung to him, kissing him fervently. ‘Oh my beloved angel, you are far too good for me,’ she cried.

Albert’s smile as he laid his face against her hair was a little complacent. This was progress, he felt.

  Chapter VII  

SHOTS ON CONSTITUTION HILL

The air was full of rumours. Almost every day there were cartoons in which the central figures were Victoria and Albert. Stories of their differences seeped out of the Palace. ‘Victoria wears the breeches,’ said the people gleefully. A certain amount of pleasure was expressed at this state of affairs. After all, was the comment, who was this Coburg Prince? More or less a pauper as Royalty went. Some might call him handsome – so he was in a pretty sort of way. But the ideal Englishman did not look like Albert, who was more like a pretty girl dressed up as a man. The way he sat his horse was foreign. And what of his brother? Ernest lingered on at the Court, didn’t he? Was he hoping that some of the spoils would come his way? Ernest began to figure in cartoons holding out his hand, feeling in Albert’s pocket. ‘Don’t forget me, brother,’ was the caption. ‘Spare a little for me.’

It was very unpleasant.

Worse still, news leaked out about the nature of Ernest’s indisposition. There were shocked chortles. These Coburgs! They liked a good time … at other people’s expense if possible. That in itself was bad enough, but some people remembered that Albert’s mother had been divorced, and the old scandal was revived. She had had a Jewish lover. Was it before Albert was born? People were sure it must have been. In which case their Coburg Prince was scarcely a prince at all, being a bastard.

This last rumour did not appear in print. That would have been too dangerous. But it did exist. Lord Melbourne did everything in his power to see that it did not reach the ears of the Queen.

Meanwhile Albert, remembering the success of the cup of tea incident, was eager to consolidate his new position and follow it up with a fresh advance. He was certain that the main reason why the Queen would not take him into her confidence as far as state matters were concerned was due to the influence of Lehzen; and his great desire was to discredit the woman in his wife’s eyes.

The press liked the Baroness no better than it did the Prince. Her name constantly appeared and she was often invested with an almost sinister power. Albert, who was now reading the newspapers avidly, was continually discovering items of news about her. He read in the papers that no appointments were made without her consent; and this did not apply only to the domestic side of the Queen’s life. He could not believe this to be true, but, since the Queen did not confide in him, how could he be sure?

Of one thing he was certain. The domestic side of the household was mismanaged. With a true Teutonic talent for organization this had quickly become clear to him. He would have liked to make a clean sweep of many anomalies and he was determined to do so.

Often he was on the point of discussing the matter with the Queen, but, although he had come out victorious from the tea-cup upset, he was a little afraid of Victoria. There was great strength beneath her fluttering femininity and he had learned how stubborn she could be. At the moment when she had actually thrown the tea-cup there had been no love for him in those blazing blue eyes. What if she became so incensed with what she might call his interference that she ceased to love him? Stockmar had hinted that his trump card was her affection for him and that affection must not weaken. In fact it had to grow so strong that eventually she would give way to his wishes. That that could come about, he was certain; at the same time he knew that it could go the other way.

Perhaps the best way was to do it through his secretary, George Anson, who could impart his desire to Lord Melbourne and so it would reach the Queen. What a roundabout way for a man to ask a favour – no, his rights – from his wife! But of course she was no ordinary wife.

He was discovering George Anson to be a very capable young man. He had fought against having him in the first instance, but now he was realising that it was not such a bad bargain after all. Mr Anson was sympathetic and completely loyal and the fact that he was also secretary to the Prime Minister was not a drawback as he had feared. In fact he believed Mr Anson had represented him very sympathetically to Lord Melbourne, for that gentleman’s attitude towards him had changed in the last weeks. He fancied that a little more respect was paid to him.

He told George Anson of his feelings and that he wished him to put the matter to Lord Melbourne not too forcefully – casually rather – as a suggestion rather than as a request.

Mr Anson understood perfectly; and so did Lord Melbourne, who told the Queen in that light and easy manner of which he was a master that perhaps the Prince might like to have – figuratively speaking – the keys of the household.

‘But that the Baroness Lehzen always has had,’ said the Queen.

Lord Melbourne smiled his quizzical smile which the Queen had always so admired. ‘That was in the past. On the tenth of February a somewhat important change took place in Your Majesty’s household.’

Victoria giggled – as she often did when alone with her dear Lord M. No one else made her laugh in quite the same way – not even Albert.

‘Why don’t you think about it?’ suggested Lord Melbourne.

‘I don’t much care for that sort of change.’

‘Not like that other of course,’ said the incorrigible Lord M. ‘I believe you cared for
that
one very much indeed.’

‘Albert is an angel,’ said Victoria.

‘Even angels seek some occupation. That is why they are always depicted playing harps.’

She laughed aloud. ‘Really you are most irreverent, Lord M.’

‘I fear so,’ he agreed. ‘And I fear also that you may put this matter from your mind – but do consider it.’

Considering things usually meant discussing them with the Baroness.

‘Daisy dear,’ said Victoria, when they were alone, ‘I’m afraid my dearest Albert is getting a little restive.’

The Baroness’s eyes had hardened a little. ‘Surely not. He must be a very happy man.’

‘Oh, he is happy in his marriage, Daisy, but he feels he doesn’t make use of his talents.’

‘He will want to use his talents to make himself a good husband to the best wife in the world.’

‘Oh, darling Daisy, I am sure he feels that. But he wants to
do
something.’

‘I doubt whether Lord Melbourne will want him
interfering
in politics.’

‘I didn’t mean politics. But I think he would like the keys of the household for instance.’

‘The keys of the household?’ This was her province. Once the Prince got his foot in he would attempt to oust her altogether; she had sensed the antagonism he felt for her. She had run the household ever since the Queen’s accession. She was easy-going and the servants, who liked her for it, would want no change. Besides, it gave her power over appointments and that was a very pleasant thing to have. So she was seriously alarmed when the keys of the household were mentioned.

‘It might take a burden off your shoulders, Daisy.’

‘Burden. It is not a burden. Nothing I could do for my precious child could be a burden. And what would be said if the Prince concerned himself with the household? It is a woman’s job. Imagine how the press would deal with that. There would be pictures of him in
skirts
.’

‘Albert would hate that.’

‘And what is more important, my love, so would you. What we all have to remember is that it is our duty and pleasure to serve the Queen … in whatever capacity we are called upon to do so. What are titles? Do you remember on your accession you talked about a post for me, and I said, No, let there be no post. And you replied that I should be here as your
friend
. How well that has worked! Let the Prince be content to be your husband. I am sure that will be the best in the end.’

And Victoria was sure that her dear Baroness was right.

At the end of April Ernest left England, and Albert was very sad to say goodbye. Victoria came into the room where they were singing the song they had sung at the University
Abschied
, the student’s farewell.

Victoria sat down quietly and listened, the tears in her eyes.

‘You won’t be so very far away, dear Ernest,’ she said. ‘You must visit us … often.’

Albert said little; he was too moved for words.

‘You see,’ Ernest explained, ‘we have spent so much of our lives together.’

Victoria could always understand affection and she nodded; but Albert turned abruptly away and looked out of the window.

When Ernest left, Albert stood at the window watching his carriage until it could no longer be seen. She came and stood beside him, slipping her arm through his, but he took no notice of her. She believed he did not even know that she was there.

Her compassion changed to a slight irritation. After all she was his wife and surely a wife came before a brother.

After Ernest’s departure Albert felt very lonely. He reviewed the situation as calmly as he could. Victoria was in love with him – more so than he was with her, although he had an affection for her. Perhaps she was more capable of affection than he was – but what sort of affection was it? Demonstrative certainly, but how deep did it go, when she would not give him an opportunity of sharing her state duties although she knew how passionately he wished it? Following Baron Stockmar’s advice he was studying politics and this only made him the more bitter because he was discovering what a fascinating study it was and he would have delighted in sharing it with Victoria.

He felt alone in a strange land, now that his father and brother had left. He had Baron Stockmar of course and his friendship with Sir Robert Peel was growing. He and the Queen had not discussed Sir Robert since the tea-cup incident and he knew very well that she would disapprove of the connection. It was a very unhappy state of affairs.

And there was now no denying that the English disliked him. He was a German; he spoke English with an unmistakable accent; his manners were formal; he was solemn; he had no social graces; he found it difficult to be at ease in company and particularly the company of women. Even his looks were not those admired in England because, as the English said, they were not manly enough.