The Queen's Husband (49 page)

Fanny, Lady Cowper’s daughter by her first marriage, who was lady-in-waiting to the Queen, did not like the idea of her mother’s marrying an old roué like Lord Palmerston; the Queen now heartily agreed with her; as she said to Albert, there was something very unpleasant about widows’ remarrying … In the event of the direst possible tragedy of which she could not bear to think for one moment,
she
could
never
bring herself to act in such a way.

And now that Lord John Russell was the Prime Minister, Lord Palmerston was once again Foreign Secretary; poor,
poor
Lord Melbourne having no place in the Cabinet. He said, with that generosity which she remembered so well, that of course it was quite right that he should not be offered one, for he was too infirm to hold it, but it seemed so hard when one remembered the past.

Lord Palmerston seemed to respect no one. He managed whenever possible to devise a course of action for himself and then explain it after he had carried it out. It was wrong, but he could always shrug himself out of any difficult situation, pretending that it was of no great importance.

The Queen suspected him of withholding state papers from her. She resented his attitude towards Albert which was that the Prince was merely a pleasant young man who must not be allowed to think that his opinions carried any weight.

A matter which had for some time been considered one of international importance had become a crisis. The question was the marriage of the young Queen Isabella of Spain and her sister. Louis Philippe had long had an eye on Spain. Before he came to the throne it had been an ambition of the French that Spain and France should be one. This might be brought about by the marriage of the King’s son to the young Queen of Spain. This was something which would never be permitted and Louis Philippe knew it. But he had a plan. As it would never be accepted by the rest of Europe that the son of the King of France should marry the Queen of Spain he would not press this. Instead his son, the Duc de Montpensier, should marry the young Queen’s sister, the Infanta Fernanda, while the Queen married her cousin, the Duke of Cadiz.

Before any objection could be made to this, the marriages had taken place. It was then discovered why Louis Philippe and Guizot, that wily Foreign Minister of his, had made the arrangement. The Duke of Cadiz was impotent; therefore the Spanish throne would go to the heir of Fernanda and Montpensier and thus Louis Philippe would achieve the influence he had hoped for.

When the Queen realised what had happened she raged against Louis Philippe.

‘What a sly old man! And when you think how he pretended to be such friends with us and gave the children those lovely presents.’

‘We should be wary of people when they give us presents,’ said Albert.

‘But these were such lovely presents and Vicky loved her doll. It had eyes that opened and shut and had real eyelashes; and Bertie’s soldiers were beautiful.’

‘If our foreign service had been more efficient we should have seen this coming,’ said Albert.

‘I never did like that man Palmerston and why Little Johnny wanted to give him the Foreign Office I can’t imagine. Of course Johnny married a widow in the first place. Lord Melbourne told me that Johnny, on account of his size, used to be called the Widow’s Mite.’

Albert did not smile; he did not appreciate such jokes. She supposed they were not really very funny but she did remember laughing immoderately at the time.

‘Then of course there was that sad affair of his wife’s death. It upset me so much and then he married again and they are very happy together …
not
a widow the second time.’

‘It is a pity,’ said Albert, ‘that he brought Palmerston into the Cabinet.’

It was not long before there was a big difference between the royal pair and the Foreign Minister. Lord Palmerston had such odd ideas. There was Civil War in Portugal and one would have thought that in such a conflict he would have been on the side of the royalists. Not so; his sympathies were with the people.

‘I consider Lord Palmerston to be a most dangerous man,’ said Albert.

So of course the Queen agreed.

Stockmar, in answer to the entreaties of the Queen and Albert, arrived in England. He was warmly greeted and carried off to Windsor for conferences with the anxious parents of the Prince of Wales.

‘We are very worried about Bertie,’ announced the Queen. ‘He refuses to learn and is so high-spirited that it is sometimes difficult for his tutors and governesses to control him.’

‘I have forced myself to cane him many times,’ said the Prince. ‘It was distressing but necessary.’

‘It may well be that he is being pampered by people in the nurseries and schoolroom,’ said the Baron. ‘That could be responsible. And if he says he won’t learn he must simply be made to learn.’ Stockmar’s dry old face twisted into a reluctant smile. ‘I think you may well have been a little soft with the child.’

‘My parental feelings had to be overcome,’ said Albert.

‘Albert was wonderful,’ murmured the Queen. ‘I have been deeply impressed by the way he has handled the difficult matter.’

‘Yes,’ said Stockmar. ‘But leave this to me. I will go to the schoolroom and discover what is happening there; and perhaps a tutor should be appointed for the Prince of Wales – a man of learning who will not hesitate to use the rod.’

Stockmar was conducted to the schoolroom where Vicky was seated at the table writing out French verbs and Bertie was being coaxed to read by Miss Hildyard.

There was consternation. Miss Hildyard rose and curtsied as the children wriggled down from their seats.

What a
nasty
old man with Papa and Mama! thought Bertie; and then was aware that the old man in question was staring at him.

‘Bertie, come and greet our dear good friend Baron Stockmar,’ said Mama.

Bertie came forward and was peered at. There was a smudge of blue paint on his blouse. Vicky had pointed it out an hour ago and he could feel those nasty old eyes concentrated on it.

If all the grown-ups would turn their backs for a minute he would put out his tongue at that old man just to show Vicky what he thought of their Baron Stockmar.

‘So this is the backward one,’ said the Baron. ‘Why’s that, eh?’

‘Because,’ said Vicky, ‘he is not the forward one.’

‘Vicky will speak when she is addressed,’ said Papa gently. ‘It is for Bertie to answer.’ But Bertie did not care about being backward and wasn’t frightened of the old Baron.

‘Sullen, it seems,’ said the Baron. ‘Well, we must remedy that.’

The Baron turned away and they all began talking to Miss Hildyard.

Baron Stockmar inspected the books and asked questions about the lessons. Some of the governesses, trying to show Bertie in the best possible light, said that he was a very sociable child; he was very good with the younger children, who adored him and he would play with them for hours; in fact the first person they looked for when coming into the nursery was Bertie.

‘Sociability,’ said the Baron, ‘is a bad sign. It shows a frivolous nature.’

‘He is rather inventive,’ said Miss Hildyard.

‘Inventive?’

‘Yes, Baron. He has a lively imagination.’

‘You mean he tells lies?’

‘Oh no.’

‘But yes,’ said the Baron. ‘What else?’

‘He devises amusing games for the children.’

‘Games. Lies! That child is on the road to disaster. And no aptitude for lessons! That will have to be remedied.’

He went on to say that sometimes it was necessary to apply learning with the cane. The governesses were disturbed by this picture of Bertie as a desperate character when he was merely a normal little boy, but it was impossible to attempt to change the Baron’s view, particularly when it was supported by Bertie’s parents.

When he was alone with the Queen and the Prince, Stockmar said: ‘I think we should appoint a tutor for the young villain and give him firm instructions that he must get results, which with such a child must mean meeting recalcitrance with severity.’

Stockmar found the man. He was Henry Birch, the rector of Prestwich, who having taught boys at Eton and being a Reverend gentleman, seemed highly suitable.

Bertie awaited his arrival with some trepidation.

It was September and the thought of escaping from London delighted both the Queen and Albert. The very name Osborne was, as the Queen said, like music in their ears and now that Albert had such plans for improving the place there was an added excitement in planning a trip to their dear island.

The children were happy there. There they could play on the beach and run about in the gardens of eight hundred acres, conscious, as their parents were, of a freedom they did not normally enjoy. Bertie had occasional uneasy twinges about the future but he was not one to worry about what might be coming to him. The present was his concern and how best to enjoy it. If he could escape from tutorial control he knew how to do that very well.

Even Papa seemed different in Osborne and would sometimes play games which made him seem like an ordinary person; and Mama would watch them playing and applaud everything Papa did. Still it was good fun and gave Bertie a pleasant, comfortable feeling to be on such terms with his parents.

When they arrived that September there was a great deal of talk about the foundation stone which had been laid for a new Osborne. The old one was on the point of collapse and a new Osborne was in the process of being built. There was an exciting smell of paint in the house. One part of it was completed and this was where they lived while the rest of it was being planned by the Prince.

The Queen declared her contentment to be at Osborne. ‘Oh how I should love to live the simple life always,’ she cried.

Albert agreed that it would have been far more comfortable for them both if they had been wealthy gentlefolk instead of royalty. Secretly Albert wondered whether Victoria was entirely sincere – although she would be aware of this of course; one of her greatest qualities was her honesty – because she was always very conscious of her dignity as Queen and sprang to defend it if it was assailed in the smallest way … sometimes by him. As for Albert, because he was conscientious and sometimes found his duties arduous, they were at least self imposed. It was difficult to understand all the truth, in any case there were so many facets of it that perhaps there was not a simple answer to any one of their problems.

But here they were at Osborne and this was a special occasion because for the first time they were occupying the new Osborne – and although there was so much to be done in the house, they were in a way entering it for the first time.

Such an occasion must be celebrated.

As they came into the house – the Queen going first – one of the maids threw an old shoe after her. For the moment the Queen thought that she was the victim of an attack and turned sharply, but there was Mary Kerr, one of her Scottish ladies-in-waiting, standing there unabashed and explaining to Her Majesty that she had to throw the shoe after the Queen otherwise there would have been no luck in the house.

Everyone – even the Prince – joined in the laughter and the Queen picked up the old shoe and thanked Mary for it.

Dinner was taken in the new dining-room and afterwards the company retired to the drawing-room where the curtains were drawn back and the lights shone forth over the sea. It was a wonderful evening and everyone present wanted to drink the health of the Queen and her husband as a house-warming.

This was done and the Prince said that there was a hymn they sang in Germany on such an occasion and he would like to sing it now.

The Queen’s eyes filled with tears of love, devotion and happiness as she listened to her beloved husband’s voice:

God bless our going out, nor

less Our coming in …

Victoria had rarely seen Albert so obsessed by anything as he was about Osborne. He always worked conscientiously. To see him going through the state papers was a lesson to anyone, she often declared. But one was conscious all the time that this was a duty. Osborne was a pleasure and he was almost childish in his enthusiasm.