The Queen and Lord M

Chapter XII THE BRIDEGROOM ELECT

Francis Charles Augustus Albert Emmanuel, otherwise known as Prince Albert, the second son of Ernest, Duke of Saxe-Coburg-Saalfeld, was not feeling very happy as the carriage carried him and his elder brother Ernest towards the dock where he was to take ship to England.

In fact only the company of his brother, to whom all his life he had been devoted, and that of his pet greyhound Eös comforted him.

Albert was reserved by nature and he hated all the preparation and fuss which had gone into making him a suitable husband for the Queen of England. He would have been glad if Ernest had been the chosen one except that he was too fond of his brother to want him to be submitted to what he had had to endure. He had been faintly surprised when he heard that he was the bridegroom elect. It had happened after that visit to England three years ago when he had first met his cousin Victoria, a very self-possessed young person of sixteen. Surely he had thought she would have preferred Ernest – besides Ernest was the elder. But no, it seemed her choice had fallen on him!

His Uncle Leopold, who ran the family affairs, was determined on this match. He had already succeeded in marrying other members of the family into the royal houses of Europe, but nothing, he had said, was as important to him as to see his niece and nephew united and ruling England together.

That was all very well, Albert reasoned to himself, but Victoria was the Queen and he could only be her consort, which he did not feel to be a very dignified position.

He had discussed it with Ernest who had retorted, ‘Oh, yes, but you will have to see that Victoria obeys you.’ When he remembered that rather regal girl of sixteen he wondered whether this could be achieved; and nothing else would suit him, of course.

Then he knew that Uncle Leopold had been trying to bring about a definite betrothal for more than a year and that Cousin Victoria had said that she did not wish to be definitely betrothed.

‘It is somewhat humiliating,’ said Albert to Ernest.

Ernest was less serious and more intent on enjoying life, whereas Albert wanted to do what was right and honourable and be respected.

‘And if,’ went on Albert, ‘there is any delay I shall simply release myself from any understanding.’

‘My dear Albert,’ replied his brother, ‘she will only have to take one look at your manly beauty and she’ll succumb.’

But Albert was serious. Life to him was a solemn affair and he had first realised this at the age of four, when he had lost his mother.

There had been a mystery about his mother’s departure, for she had not died. She had simply gone away. Albert had adored her and he had been her favourite and for a long time he could not understand why she had left him.

He and Ernest had had whooping cough at the time and he remembered how he had waited for his mother to come and see them … waited and waited.

‘Where is my Mamma?’ he had demanded, but all they would tell him was that she had gone away.

He remembered her as a supremely beautiful being. Warm-hearted, and tender, who had loved her little boys, particularly Albert.

He learned the story later, of course. His beautiful mother in her very early twenties had been guilty of an intrigue with a gentleman of Jewish blood, a cultured man of some importance at her husband’s Court. The Duke – who was years older than his young wife – had had so many mistresses that he lost count of them and the young Duchess Louise in desperation had turned to her lover. Not only had she committed adultery but she was discovered to have committed adultery. It was unthinkable that such conduct should be pardoned.

The story was similar to that of George I and his wife Sophia Dorothea who having taken the Count of Königsmarck for her lover was caught with him. Königsmarck was murdered and Sophia Dorothea sent away to a lonely castle where she spent the rest of her life as a prisoner. Times had changed, but while the Duke expected his wife to turn a blind eye to his countless amours he would not do the same to hers. So leaving the two little boys in the nursery she retired from her husband’s house and was in due course divorced. Albert learned afterwards that she had gone to Paris, where she had died when he was eleven years old.

He never forgot her. He became shy and thoughtful. As a consolation for the loss of that maternal love he became absorbed in his own illnesses and noted them all down in his diary. He did not know why this gave him so much satisfaction although he wondered now whether subconsciously he had believed that if he were ill enough his mother would come back. He had never liked women very much; he had always felt nervous in their presence; and when at the age of five he was at a children’s party and a little girl had been brought to dance with him, he had burst into tears and refused to perform.

But as he grew up he showed a greater desire to absorb knowledge than Ernest did; Ernest was lazy and Albert was always determined to prove his point providing he thought it was a worthy one. He was intelligent without being brilliant; but what was most outstanding in his character was his moral rectitude. When he was only eleven years old, when asked what he wanted to be in life, he startled his worldly father by answering : ‘A good and useful man.’

It was by no means an idle comment. Albert worked hard and painstakingly; yet he was prepared for a little fun of a sort. Lacking in humour and wit his jokes were of the practical kind but he and Ernest partook in all kinds of outdoor sports for their father was determined to make men of them; as long as the brothers were together they were content. Albert was a credit to his teachers. He was more sensitive than Ernest, who took after their father, and the effect of their mother’s disappearance from their lives had had little effect on the elder boy. It was different with Albert. Loving his mother passionately, hearing vague reports of her mysterious past, he developed a great distaste for women and it was clear that he was going to be quite unlike his father in that respect.

Albert loved riding and hunting and enjoyed surprising his tutors with the painstaking excellence of his work; best of all he loved music. He had grown up considerably since his first meeting with Victoria, having been educated in Bonn and done a great tour of Europe in the company of Baron Stockmar, as well as being primed by his Uncle Leopold as to what was expected of him.

And now he was on the way to meet his fate.

The sea was very rough and he was never a good sailor. He lay sick and wretched wishing for death and asking himself why he had come.

He thought longingly of the little schloss near Coburg where he and Ernest – always together then – had spent their happiest times. Oh, to be there now – a boy with no ambitions but to be a good and useful man.

The heavy seas pounded against the sides of the paddle steamer until he thought his last hour had come. At least, he thought, it will rescue me from a difficult situation.

Ernest was prodding him.

‘We’re there, Albert.’

He noticed then that the violent rocking of the steamer had abated a little; he staggered up to see the white cliffs, which he thought forbidding rather than welcoming. But he did feel better as he stumbled onto land and the ride to Windsor began.

On the morning of the 10th October Victoria awoke little guessing that she would come to regard this as the most important day in her life.

She was feeling a little sick and she remembered that dinner last night had been somewhat rich. Had she over-eaten? Or eaten too quickly? The Baroness was always telling her that she did.

Lehzen came in as usual first thing in the morning.

‘A stone was thrown at one of the windows early this morning,’ she said.

‘How tiresome!’

‘There is not much damage done. Only a broken pane or two of glass.’

Victoria felt melancholy. How sad to think that some of her people disliked her so much that they were impelled to throw stones at her windows.

‘I feel a little sick. I wonder if Lord Melbourne feels well. We both ate pork last night.’

‘There is an “r” in the month so it should be all right,’ said Lehzen. ‘I’ll send to see if the Prime Minister is well.’

The message came back that Lord Melbourne was suffering from a little internal disturbance which he felt was due to the pork. He intended to walk it off this morning.

Victoria sent a message back. She would walk off her pork with Lord Melbourne while he walked off his.

They strolled through the grounds together discussing the pork and from that Victoria changed the subject to Albert’s imminent arrival.

‘I still feel very uneasy.’

‘It is so natural,’ said Lord Melbourne.

‘And if he does not think there is any hurry to see me I shall let him know that I feel no urgency to see him.’

‘I should do that,’ said Lord Melbourne.

‘Then he can go back and we shall hear no more of the matter. I wonder if he will be as fascinating as my cousin Alexander?’

‘Oh, that is hardly possible,’ said Lord Melbourne, with a hint of mockery.

‘Why, what do you mean?’

‘You always speak of that young man as though he were Adonis.’

‘Well, he is very handsome.’

‘And you were completely fascinated by his handsome looks.’

‘I like beautiful people. Beauty moves me deeply no matter in what form. I have always admired beauty.’

‘That is true,’ said Lord Melbourne. ‘And you particularly admired Coburg cousin Alexander’s.’

‘As you must have done if you admire beauty.’

‘Alas I must be insensible to it because Alexander’s did not make much of an impression.’

‘You were annoyed because you could not understand our conversation. You know you were. Well, never mind. This is very pleasant walking in the grounds here. Are you feeling better now?’

‘I am walking it off,’ said Lord Melbourne. ‘And Your Majesty?’

‘I am also walking it off.’

‘And look, there is one of the pages running towards us. It appears that he has urgent news for one of us.’

‘I daresay it is for you, Lord Melbourne. Some State business.’

‘In that case it will be for us both.’

The page had a letter for the Queen. ‘It’s from Uncle Leopold,’ she said. She read it.

‘They are on their way,’ she said, turning pale. ‘Albert and Ernest will be here tonight at seven o’clock.’

The rest of the day passed slowly. She and Lord Melbourne had another chat during which she reiterated her determination not to be hurried into marriage and they agreed on the desirability of waiting for a few years.

At six o’clock, Lehzen helped her dress.

‘They will be here soon, Lehzen.’

‘You should look upon them just as another pair of cousins.’

‘They will have to learn that I am the Queen and that I am the one who shall decide.’

‘You will see that they learn that fast enough,’ said Lehzen.

Seven o’clock. She went up to one of the towers and looked out. There was no sign of the arrival yet.

Should she send for dear Lord M and beguile the time in pleasant chat? No, she did not even want to be with him.

She went to her own room and thought of other delightful Coburg cousins who had visited her.

I shall give a ball for them, she told herself; but even the prospect of a ball gave her little pleasure.

Lehzen came in. It was nearly seven-thirty.

‘They are approaching the castle now,’ she said.

She had planned how she would receive him. She would stand at the top of the staircase and watch them ascend. She wondered whether she would know the difference between Ernest and Albert.

She rose slowly; she was in a regal mood. Albert must understand from the first that she was the Queen.

At the top of the stairs she waited. There were the two young men. Her heart began to beat so fiercely that the lace on her gown quivered.

He was mounting the stairs. She knew him at once. This was Albert. He was the most beautiful being she had ever beheld.

‘Albert!’ she said and held out her hands. And as soon as he touched her hand and lifted those beautiful blue eyes to hers she knew.

Ernest was there too but she did not see him. She saw only Albert, dear, beautiful Albert. There was no one else in the world.

She was quivering with excitement. Every little bit of resentment had disappeared. She was wildly, incredibly happy.

Nothing else mattered in the world but that Albert was here.

The Queen had fallen in love.