# Life of Her Majesty Queen Victoria/Chapter 6

Chapter VI.
The Prince.
The Queen was married to Prince Albert with every possible circumstance of pomp and magnificence on February 10th, 1840, in the chapel of St. James's Palace. There was a drenching downpour of rain in the morning, so her subjects, although the sun shone later in the day, did not learn the expression "Queen's weather" as early as 1840. Any doubts the Prince may have entertained as to the popularity of the marriage with the English people were dispelled by the hearty reception he met with from the crowd on his landing at Dover, and afterwards in London. A letter from the Dowager Lady Lyttelton, then a Lady in Waiting, descriptive of the ceremony, says: "The Queen's look and manner were very pleasing, her eyes much swollen by tears, but great happiness in her countenance; her look of confidence and comfort at the Prince, when they walked away as man and wife, was very pleasing to see."
Another account mentions a rather pretty incident: as the Prince and his bride were returning in their carriage to Buckingham Palace, he held her hand in his, but in such a way as to leave the wedding-ring visible to the assembled crowd.
The good effects of the Queen's marriage soon began to make themselves felt. The Duchess of Kent had been, almost immediately after the accession, not without the pang of feeling that her occupation was gone, and that the child to whom she had devoted herself unceasingly for eighteen years was taken from ​her; the Queen was surrounded by councillors not of her choosing, and was sailing away to regions of thought and activity where she could not follow. Her daughter's marriage and her son-in-law's thoughtful kindness did much to soothe these feelings and restore happiness and satisfaction to her heart.
The Prince quickly made a favorable impression upon those with whom he was brought in contact. The most penetrating observer could detect in him no trace of coldness or resentment towards those who had taken an active part in the events detailed in the last chapter. He was particularly courteous to the Duke of Wellington, who was charmed by him, and said he had never seen better manners.
Although he bore the rebuffs referred to with perfect good breeding, he did not forget them. Fourteen years later, after he had been on terms of the closest intimacy and friendship both with the Duke and Peel, he brought up the subject in a letter to Stockmar on the probable causes of an outbreak of hostility against himself, which was very noticeable in 1854. After enumerating the causes of his unpopularity with the Protectionists and the Horse Guards, he adds:—
There can be no doubt as to the difficulties of his position: the least indiscretion, the least appearance of the usurpation of an authority he did not legally ​possess, would have been both exaggerated and bitterly resented. He was emphatically the wife's husband, a position which, it appears, requires more than an average share of magnanimity for a man to occupy with dignity and ease. His position was one very frequently occupied by a woman, but very rarely by a man. A bishop's wife, for instance, may be a Mrs. Proudie, and goad the most gentle of human beings into insult and revolt by her arrogant assumption of power; or she may be her husband's helper and confidential adviser, and his right hand in all his work, making friends and winning over enemies in all directions; to do this needs a good heart, good sense, and tact. These qualities stood the Prince in good stead; he was, moreover, strengthened by the aim which he had ever before him, of establishing the English monarchy on a foundation so firm that the coming storms of revolution would be unable to shake it.
Politically his position was analogous to that of the Queen's private secretary. Previous Sovereigns had had private secretaries of their own appointment, and the Queen had an absolute right to appoint whom she chose. It was for her happiness and also for the good of the nation that she chose her husband, who was also her bosom friend; no one else could have discharged the duties of the post with so much efficiency.
His firmness, resolution, and self-control would have been remarkable at any age, but they were especially notable in so young a man. It must not be forgotten that at the time of his marriage he was six months under twenty-one. A question arose whether, being under age, he could be sworn to the Privy Council. But boy as he was in years, he showed a firmness of character, a grasp of the principles which should rule his conduct, and a persistence in follow​ing them which could not have been excelled at any age. It was a time, perhaps, when age was less afraid of youth than it is at present. Delane became editor of The Times at four-and-twenty. It is only by persistent effort that we can bring ourselves to believe that two generations earlier Pitt was really Leader of the House of Commons and Chancellor of the Exchequer, and had declined to be Prime Minister at three-and-twenty, and became Prime Minister at five-and-twenty, and held the post uninterruptedly and with paralleled power for the next eighteen years. This miracle has been explained by saying that Pitt was phenomenal; his tutor called him "Mr. Pitt" when he was seven—he was born old; he did not acquire caution and judgment, as other people do, with years; he was gifted with them from his cradle. People have sometimes asked themselves whether Prince Albert was not "born old" too. It is true we are told that he had a great fund of drollery in his nature, and a considerable power of mimicry and a turn for drawing caricatures; we also hear of one thoroughly boyish prank which he played in 1839, on the very eve of his engagement—stooping in his travelling carriage when it stopped to change horses in a little village, so that the inhabitants who had assembled to see the Prince, saw nothing but his greyhound, Eôs, looking out of the window. This is exactly what any boy might do; but he was on the eve of a crisis in his life which caused all boyishness to be put away. Just as under the weight of a solemn purpose Hamlet disencumbers himself of all the "trivial fond records" of his youth, that
"My commandment all alone shall live Within the book and volume of my brain, Unmixed with baser matter,"
so the Prince, under the immense responsibilities of his position and his sense of the difficulty of discharg​ing them, acquired in one stride, as it were, the qualities which most men arrive at, if they reach them at all, only after years of experience and effort.
Reference has already been made to his convictions upon the necessity of preserving the purity of the young Queen's Court. This was no effort to himself personally, for he was one of the natures born with a strong preference for whatsoever things are pure. But in the light of the scandals of former reigns, he knew the importance, not only of being free from taint, but of preventing the invention and circulation of scandalous stories relating to himself and his associates. His first request about the gentlemen selected to form his household was that they should be men of good character. He and the Queen always stipulated for this in regard to those household appointments which were part of the political patronage of successive Governments. We hear of this from Greville in his account of the filling of the household appointments in Sir Robert Peel's Administration of 1841: "As to the men, she," the Queen, "had said she did not care who they were, provided they were of good character." A side-light is thrown on the efficacy of this stipulation by an extract from Lord Shaftesbury's Journal, where we read that Peel pressed a household appointment on the then Lord Ashley, on the express ground that he must fill these places with men of unblemished character. Lord Ashley grimly records that Lord ——, the hero of a recent scandal, who had himself remarked, "Thank God, my character is too bad for a household place," had received a similar compliment from Peel. Therefore, notwithstanding the express wishes of the Queen and Prince, it is evident that the aim they had set before themselves was by no means easy of accomplishment.
In order, not to protect himself, but to protect the ​throne from the breath of scandal, the Prince laid down for himself a line of conduct which must have been very irksome through the degree to which it infringed his personal freedom. He never went anywhere alone. He was always accompanied by his equerry. He felt he must only be irreproachable, but be able to produce witnesses, if necessary, to prove that he was so. Mr. Anson, the Prince's secretary, says that it was remarked to him in 1842, "by a keen observer of character and by no means a good-natured one" (possibly Greville), "that it was most remarkable that the Prince should have been now nearly two years in his most difficult position, and had never given cause for one word to be said against him in any respect."
The idle apprentice very often has something to say not altogether to the credit of the industrious apprentice; and men have to be forgiven their good qualities almost as often as their bad. There were not wanting those who were ready to say that the Prince was—if not a milksop—at any rate wanting in manliness; and it is rather amusing to find that he did himself (1843) more good, as far as popularity in society was concerned, by proving himself a bold rider to hounds, in the Leicestershire country, than he had done by years of prudence, caution, and self-effacement.
The difficulties of the Prince's position were minimized by the generous confidence and unbounded affection with which the Queen regarded him. He at once became, and remained till death parted them, what she herself called her "dearest Life in Life." She associated him with herself in all State business that was not strictly ceremonial. The courtiers quickly appreciated the significance of the fact that the Queen delighted to honor and elevate him. Her partiality for the Whigs became a thing of the past. ​She dissociated herself from party predilections. Politically, as well as personally, her husband came first, and it was "staff o' his conscience" with him that the Sovereign should be loyal to her Ministers to whatever party they might belong. Sir Robert Peel, who became Prime Minister in 1841, formed a very high opinion of the Prince's strong practical judgment and sagacity, and did much to encourage the active part which he took in all state business. Peel and his Foreign Secretary, Lord Aberdeen, were credited with being Prince Albert's tutors, in political affairs, and with having first introduced him into public life. They remarked with satisfaction how modestly he exercised his ever-increasing authority, and never gave a decided opinion without first consulting the Queen. By the end of the Peel Administration the Prince's association with the Queen in all State business had become definitely established. It was a complete partnership; the Ministers always saw the Queen and Prince together, and "both of them always said We—We think, or wish, to do so-and-so; what had we better do?'" &c.
This union was equally close domestically and politically. We have already seen that to be parted from her husband, even for a day or two, was a serious trial to the Queen. The Prince went to Liverpool for a couple of days in 1846, and the Queen wrote to Stockmar in her husband's absence, "I feel very lonely without my dear master; and though I know other people are often separated for a few days, I feel that it could not make me get accustomed to it. … Without him everything loses its interest. … It will always be a terrible pang to me to separate from him, even for a few days, and I pray God never to let me survive him. I glory in his being seen and loved." The pathos of the words in the light of after events ​needs no emphasis; but no one who has loved and been loved as she has, should be called unhappy. It was also to Stockmar that the Prince confided his own most sacred feelings upon the priceless treasure his marriage had brought him. Writing to his trusted friend to pour out his grief on the death of his father, the Duke of Coburg, in 1844, the Prince says: "Just such is Victoria to me, who feels and shares my grief, and is the treasure upon which my whole existence rests. The relation in which we stand to one another leaves nothing to desire. It is a union of heart and soul, and is therefore noble, and in it the poor children shall find their cradle, so as to be able one day to insure a like happiness for themselves."
When Prince Albert's political influence first began to be felt, he was generally supposed to be a Tory; Greville repeatedly speaks of him as if he were a Tory; but from the wider knowledge which the publication of his correspondence has given, it is clear that his mind was on many subjects far in advance of even the Whig statesmanship of the day; for instance, he was a convinced Free Trader at the time when Melbourne was declaring that the repeal of the Corn Laws was the most insane proposal that had ever entered the human brain. He was ardently in favor of the reform of university education so as to bring the universities more closely into touch with the needs of modern life. He foresaw that German unity was the necessary condition of German greatness, and urged the necessity of the smaller German princes making the sacrifices requisite to the attainment of ​this great end, which was not achieved till nearly ten years after his own death. The Prince was thoroughly imbued with the sound principle that in politics reform is the best, indeed the only, safeguard against revolution. His mind, politically, was not unlike that of Sir Robert Peel, presenting a combination of Liberal opinions with extreme caution in regard to the time and method of giving effect to them.
His opinion on matters bearing on religion were wholly free from narrowness and bigotry. He presented an example of that deepening, softening, and strengthening of character which modern writers have described as the special fruit of the Reformation among those peoples which have really assimilated its principles. His deeply religious nature was apparent from very early years; in December, 1839, he wrote from Coburg to the Queen that he was about to take the Sacrament, and he adds: "God will not take it amiss, if in that serious act, even at the altar. I think of you; for I will pray to Him for you, and for your soul's health, and He will not refuse us His blessing." All through the married life of the Queen and Prince, it was their custom when they received the Sacrament to reserve the day for quietude and privacy. His sympathies in Church matters were decidedly with the party which has since been called "Broad." His influence was always exercised in support of religious toleration.
In this, as in other matters, the husband and wife were in perfect accord. In later years her most trusted and confidential friend and adviser, among Churchmen, was Dean Stanley; and she fully sympathized with his interpretation of what a National Church ought to be. Highly as the Queen and Prince ​appreciated the simplicity and dignity of the services of the Church of Scotland, they never professed or practised any approach to Scottish Sabbatarianism. Dr. Wilberforce (afterwards Bishop of Oxford, and later of Winchester) had attracted the notice of the Prince by a powerful anti-slavery speech, and he was appointed one of the Royal Chaplains. Writing form Windsor, after preaching before the Court on Sunday, February 9th, 1845, he notes in his diary, "Chess evening, which I regret, not that my own conscience is offended at it one jot, but that capable of misconstruction." The views of the Bishop and the Prince became, as time went on, very widely divergent on matters relating to religion and Church government; but earlier in their intercourse they found many subjects in which they were in hearty accord. The Prince's views on the functions of the Bishops in the House of Lords were set forth at length in a remarkable letter to Dr. Wilberforce, the Dean of Westminster, dated 1845. His opinion was that the Bishops should not take part in purely political questions, but should come forward when questions of humanity were at stake, such as negro emancipation, education, sanitation, recreation, prevention of cruelty to animals, and factory legislation. "As to religious affairs," the Prince added, "he" (the Bishop) "cannot but take an active part in them; but let that always be the part of a Christian, not a mere Churchman; let him never forget the insufficiency of human knowledge and wisdom, and the impossibility of any man, or even any Church, to say, 'I am right, I alone am right.' Let him therefore be meek and liberal, and tolerant to other confessions. … He ought to be a guardian of public morality. … He should likewise boldly admonish the public, even against its predominant feeling, if this be contrary to the purest standard ​of morality. … In this way the Bishops would become a powerful force in the Lords, and the country would feel that their presence there supplies a great want, and is a great protection to the people."
A letter like this, accompanied as it was by expressions modestly excusing himself for offering an opinion, is a sufficient revelation of his character, and of his grasp of principles. It was indeed mainly by his character that he was able to exercise the influence he did. Dr. McLeod, in speaking of him after his death, said: "His real strength lay most of all in his character, or in that which resulted from will and deliberate choice, springing out of a nature singularly pure, by God's grace, from childhood." It was this which gradually caused him to stand well with both parties, as the singleness of his aims and life became apparent. The feeling manifested against him in both Houses of Parliament before his marriage was changed after closer acquaintance to one of confidence.
When it was known that the Queen was about to give birth to a child, a Bill naming the Prince as Regent, in the event of her death leaving an infant heir, was passed without difficulty, the only dissenting voice being that of the Duke of Sussex, who felt that the dignity of the Royal Family would be best promoted by another arrangement. The Prime Minister assured the Queen that the practical unanimity of Parliament in naming the Prince as Regent was entirely owing to his own character. "Three months ago they would not have done it for him."
Perhaps the smooth passage of the Regency Bill was promoted by another circumstance. In June, 1840, as the Queen and Prince were driving up Constitution Hill, in a low carriage, Her Majesty was twice fired at by a young miscreant named Oxford; ​neither shot took effect; the Queen and Prince behaved with admirable courage. She ordered the carriage to drive at once to the Duchess of Kent, in order to anticipate any rumor of the attempt which might otherwise have reached her mother. She then continued her drive in the park, escorted now by an immense crowd on horseback and on foot, who gave the most vociferous expression to their feelings of devotion and loyalty. The Queen behaved then, as always, with perfect courage and self-possession, which naturally increased the mingled feelings of admiration and sympathy for her, and anger for the perpetrator of the outrage. One other thought, however, quickly succeeded these; it was this: If Oxford's aim had been well directed, and the fair young life laid low before she had given heirs to England, there was nothing between the nation and the succession of the Duke of Cumberland, now King of Hanover, to the throne of England. The knowledge of the escape the country had had, as well as admiration for the beautiful courage of the young wife, caused a great wave of enthusiastic loyalty to herself and her husband, and the practical result of Oxford's shot was that the Regency Bill passed through both Houses without a dissentient voice, except that of the Duke of Sussex.
It was remarked just now that the Prince's influence was due mainly to his character; it must not be inferred from this that he was not also an extremely able and accomplished man. As he came into close relations with the Queen's successive Prime Ministers, they one and all acknowledged the power of his intellect, the extent of his knowledge, and his grasp of principles. Lord Melbourne, Sir Robert Peel, Lord John Russell, Lord Aberdeen, Lord Derby, and Lord Palmerston, all formed the highest opinion of the Prince's capacity for statesmanship. With one of ​them, Lord Palmerston, the Prince was at one time, as is well known, in sharp conflict with regard to his conduct as Foreign Secretary, and this makes his testimony to the Prince's ability of all the greater value. In 1855, when Palmerston was Prime Minister, one of his political friends, calling on him, expressed a high opinion of the abilities of Napoleon III. Palmerston concurred, but said: "We have a far greater and more extraordinary man nearer home," referring to the Prince; he then added, "The Prince would not consider it right to have obtained the throne as the Emperor has done; but in regard to the possession of the soundest judgment, the highest intellect, and most exalted qualities of mind, he is far superior to the Emperor."
The Prince made an equally favorable personal impression on statesmen of the Tory party. When Lord Derby was Prime Minister for ten months in 1852, Lord Malmesbury was Foreign Secretary, and in that capacity was brought much in contact with the Queen and her husband. He wrote of the latter, "I never met a man so remarkable for his variety of information in all subjects, … with a great fund of humor quand il se déboutonne."
It was not only in statesmanship that his ability was shown. He was a good musician, and excelled as a performer, especially on the organ; Peel was not ​long in discovering that the Prince was an enthusiastic admirer of early German art and literature. His interest in the arts and in industry was demonstrated by the Great Exhibition of 1851, which was really his creation. As a country gentleman he had not that absorbing delight in killing animals which then, perhaps, even more than now, was considered essential to his position; he appears never to have become a really good shot, and to have enjoyed deer-stalking and other sport more for the sake of the fine air and exercise they brought him, than with exclusive passion of the real sportsman. As a set-off to this, he took the liveliest interest in agriculture and in stock breeding, and was a frequent visitor at agricultural and cattle shows. He showed considerable skill as a landscape gardener, and the beautiful surroundings of Windsor were still further beautified by him, while the gardens of Buckingham Palace, Osborne, and Balmoral are, to a large extent, in their present form, his creation. In social matters he anticipated a good deal of what has been done in more recent years in the direction of the improvement of workmen's dwellings, and in his interest in education and sanitary legislation. Early in his career in England he gave special attention to the suppression of duelling, and proposed, as a substitute, the establishment of courts of honor in the army, where charges could be made and evidence heard in cases which had formerly led to a personal encounter. The courts of honor were never established; but the influence of the Prince undoubtedly discouraged the practice of duelling in England. Up to this time, it had been not at all uncommon, even between civilians; and there were few of the leading politicians in either party who had not been "out," at one time or another, with a political opponent.
​The narrative of the succeeding chapters will further illustrate the Prince's character and his multiform activities. Those who had the opportunity of knowing him intimately never failed to appreciate his really great qualities; but it is only since his death, and the publication of his private letters and memoranda, that the general public have really learned to know him and to understand how he devoted all his powers to the country of his adoption.
* ↑ In this respect his political views were far in advance of those of his English tutors. Greville records a conversation he had in 1849 with Lord Aberdeen about the Prince's politics. "Aberdeen spoke much of the Queen and Prince, of course with great praise. He says the Prince's views were generally sound and wise, with one exception, which was his violent and incorrigible German Unionism" (Greville, vol. vi. p. 305).
* ↑ Kidd's Social Evolution, chap. x.; Marshall's Principles of Economics, vol. i. pp. 34, 35.
* ↑ In Lady Bloomfield's Reminiscences, she records a conversation she had with the Prince shortly before his death. "He said his great object through life had been to learn as much as possible, not with a view of doing much himself,—as, he observed, any branch of study or art required a lifetime,—but, simply for the sake of appreciating the works of others; for, he added, without any self-consciousness or vanity, 'No one knows the difficulties of a thing till they have tried to do it themselves; and it was with this idea that I learnt oil-painting, water-color, etching, fresco-painting, chalks, and lithography, and in music I studied the organ, pianoforte, and violin, thorough-bass, and singing'" (vol. ii. p. 110).
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