CHAPTER VII
HOUSEKEEPING IN A PALACE
Common people may make a wedding tour, but kings and queens are toofully occupied to afford such luxuries. The sovereign of England couldspend her honeymoon in Windsor Castle, but it must be a honeymoon ofonly four days. Those four days, however, were marked by a freedomwhich she had never enjoyed before. For the first time in her life shecould talk with someone of her own age without having to be on herguard lest what she said should be repeated and do harm.
One of the subjects that needed to be discussed and to be reformed wasthe royal housekeeping. Many a woman living in a two-room cottage isquite as comfortable as the Queen of Great Britain was in 1840. Threemen, the Lord Steward, the Lord Chamberlain, and the Master of theHorse, were supposed to have the management of the household. Thesepersons were men of high rank, and their offices were given them inreward for their political services rather than for their ability tomanage the domestic affairs of a palace. Of course they were entirelytoo stately to take any charge themselves of the housekeeping, and theydid not delegate their power to anyone in the palace. Some of theservants were under one of these three, and some were under another. Noone was at the head of the house, and everyone did about as he chose.If the Queen rang a bell for a servant, the servant might answer it, orhe might be absent from the palace, just as it happened, and the Queenwas helpless, for the only one at all responsible was some aristocraticnobleman who was, perhaps, far away on a yachting trip. When the PrimeMinister of France was a guest at Windsor, he wandered over the palacefor an hour trying to find his bedroom, for there was no one on duty topoint it out to him. At last he was sure that he had it, and he openedthe door. Behold there stood a maid brushing the hair of a lady who satat a toilet table, and could see in the glass the embarrassed gentlemanas he hurriedly retreated. The next day he discovered that the ladybefore the glass was her Majesty. Baron Stockmar wrote that cleaningthe inside of the windows belonged to one department and cleaning theoutside to another. It is quite probable that when the little PrincessVictoria asked Queen Adelaide to let her clean the windows there wasvisible need of such work. The servants of one department brought thewood and laid the fire, but it was not their work to light it, and forthat duty a servant from another department must be called. A pane ofglass could not be mended without the signatures of five differentofficials. No one was responsible for the cleanness of the house oreven for its safety; and if the man whose business it was to guard anentrance preferred to do something else, there was no one to interferewith his pleasure. The doors were indeed so carelessly guarded that onenight a boy was found under a sofa in the room next to the Queen'sbedroom. He could not be punished as a thief, for he had stolennothing. He was not a housebreaker, for he had simply walked in throughopen doors, and no one had been on guard to prevent such intrusions. Itwas finally decided that he was a vagabond, and he was imprisoned forthree months.
Prince Albert was very anxious to have better management of thehousehold, and he laid the matter before the Prime Minister.
"But men of high rank are now eager to hold these offices in the royalhousehold," was the reply "and it will make trouble if anyone is putover them, or if there is any interference with their departments."
"True," replied the Prince, "but the household machinery is so clumsyand works so ill that, as long as its wheels are not mended, there canbe neither order nor regularity, comfort, security nor outward dignityin the Queen's palace." Reforms began, but the Prince had to work veryslowly, and some years passed before either the Queen or her guestscould live in comfort.
If the Queen had insisted upon these changes being made at once, manyof them could probably have been carried out; but the Bedchamber Plothad taught her that the sovereign must not act contrary to the wishesof her people. There was especial need of care at the time. Withinhardly more than half a century, the American colonies had freedthemselves from England and become a republic; France had had aterrible revolution; throughout Europe people were thinking of change,of more power for the people and less for the government. In Englandthere was little probability of a revolution, but it was more than twohundred years since there had been any general and lasting enthusiasmfor the monarch of the realm; and both Prince Albert and the Queen feltthat the only way to make the throne strong and enduring was to win theaffection of the people. This was the teaching of Baron Stockmar, thefaithful friend and adviser of the royal couple. They appreciated hisdevotion, and all the more because they could do nothing for him. Hedid not care for money or office, and he was absolutely independent.When dinner was over, he did not trouble himself to go to the drawingroom unless he felt inclined. He would generally spend the winter withthe Queen, but he disliked good-bys, and when he wanted to go home tohis family, he left the palace without a word of farewell.
Baron Stockmar had good pupils. Prince Albert was not yet twenty-one atthe time of his marriage, and the question had arisen whether, as hewas not of age, he could legally take the oath that was required ofevery member of the Council. Soon after the marriage, King Leopoldasked an English lady about him.
"Do the English like him? Will he be popular?" inquired the King.
"They call him very handsome," was her reply, "but the English arealways ready to find fault with foreigners, and they say he is stiffand German."
As the months passed, however, the English learned that this youngPrince was a remarkable man in his grasp of politics, his talent forart and music, and his honest and unselfish devotion to the good of therealm. What was more, they showed their appreciation by an act ofParliament. The country was not yet at rest about the succession to thecrown. If the Queen should have a child and die before the child was ofage, a regent would be necessary. Parliament discussed the question,and named the Prince, "the foreigner," as regent. "They would not havedone it for him six months ago," declared Lord Melbourne with delight.
The Queen had always been loved by the Whigs, and just about this timea great wave of devotion to her swept through not only their ranks butalso those of the Tories. A boy of seventeen tried to shoot her, notbecause he hated her, but because he wished to be notorious. The Queenwas in her carriage with the Prince when the attempt was made. Shedrove on rapidly to tell the Duchess of Kent that she was safe, thenshe returned to the park, where hundreds of people had gathered, hopingto see her and make sure that she was not injured. She was receivedwith cheers and shouts of delight, and all the horseback riders formedin line on both sides of her carriage as if they were her bodyguard.When she appeared at the opera a few days later, she was greeted with awhirlwind of cheers and shouts. The whole house sang "God Save theQueen!" Then they pleased her still more by crying, "The Prince! ThePrince!" and when Prince Albert stepped to the front, he was cheered soheartily that she knew he was fast winning the hearts of her people.
Operas and popularity were not the only things to be thought of inthose days. The royal couple, barely twenty-one years of age, wereworking hard on constitutional history. They were very anxious, too,about the possibility of war with France on account of trouble inregard to Turkey and Egypt, and when their little daughter was born, inNovember, 1840, the Queen said: "I really think she ought to be namedTurko-Egypto."
The little girl was not named Turko-Egypto, but Victoria Adelaide MaryLouise, and she had to wait three months for her name, as thechristening did not take place until February. She was baptized withwater brought from the River Jordan. The font was not taken from theTower, as it had been for her mother's baptism, but a new one was madeof silver, marked with her coat-of-arms and also those of her fatherand her mother. She was a very decorous little Princess, and the proudfather wrote home to Coburg that she "behaved with great propriety anddid not cry at all."
There was much rejoicing at the birth of this Princess Royal; but when,a year later, a Prince was born, then the delight of the nation knew nobounds. He was the heir to the throne, and it was impossible to do toomuch to celebrate his birth. Punch said:
"Huzza! we've a little Prince at last, A roaring Royal boy; And all day long the booming bells Have rung their peals of joy.
"And the little Park guns have blazed away And made a tremendous noise, Whilst the air has been filled since eleven o'clock With the shouts of little boys."
One or two questions in regard to the celebration had to be settled bythe courts of justice. It was an old privilege that when an heir to thethrone was born, the officer on guard at St. James' Palace should bepromoted to the rank of major. In this case the child was born atBuckingham, but the guard at St. James' demanded his promotionnevertheless. The matter was complicated by the fact that the change ofsentry had chanced to occur just at the time of the birth of thePrince, and whether the old or the new guard actually held the keys wasa difficult question to determine. Another difficulty of the same kindarose at Chester. The Prince had the title of Earl of Chester, and themayor of that city declared that by ancient right he had claim to abaronetcy. Exactly the same question arose as with the sentinels, forat about the moment when the keys were transferred the new mayor wastaking the oath of office.
All England rejoiced; but across the water, in Germany, was a man whowas not at all pleased to hear that a son and heir was born toVictoria, for he had always had a lingering hope that he might yetbecome King of Great Britain. His aide-de-camp said that King Ernestwas generally ill-natured when he heard from England; and he wasindignant enough when he was not asked to become his grandnephew'sgodfather. Who should be the chief sponsor was a weighty matter butBaron Stockmar's advice was followed, and the King of Prussia wasinvited to take the place of honor. The Queen wished the little Princenamed Albert for the husband who was so dear to her, and Edward for thefather whom she could not remember, and these names were given him.This small Prince was an expensive baby, for it is said that thefestivities at his christening cost at least $1,000,000. The Queen gavehim the title of Prince of Wales when he was only a month old bysigning an interesting bit of parchment which declared that she girdedhim with a sword and put a golden rod into his hands that he mightdirect and defend the land of the Welsh.
In all these regal honors and rejoicings the little baby sister was notforgotten, and the Queen wrote in her journal: "Albert brought indearest little Pussy in such a smart merino dress, trimmed with blue,which mamma had given her, and a pretty cap. She was very dear andgood."
The children's father and mother would have been very glad to forgetall outside cares and splendors and live quietly by themselves, butthat could not be. There was much to think of and many subjectsconcerning which they felt anxiety. One of these was the change ofgovernment, for a little before the birth of the Prince the event tookplace which the Queen had dreaded so long, the victory of the Toriesand the resignation of Lord Melbourne. Never was a retiring Ministermore generous to his opponents and more thoughtful of the comfort ofhis sovereign. Soon after his resignation he had a little conversationwith Mr. Greville about the Tories.
"Have you any means of speaking to these chaps?" he asked.
"Certainly," answered Greville.
"I think there are one or two things Peel ought to be told," said LordMelbourne, "and I wish you would tell him. When he wishes to proposeanything, he must tell the Queen his reasons. She is not conceited; sheknows there are many things which she does not understand, and shelikes to have them explained."
Sir Robert was grateful for the advice and followed it. It was notpleasant for him to become Prime Minister, for, although the Queentreated him with the utmost courtesy, he knew that she looked upon himas responsible for cutting down the grant to Prince Albert and foropposing her wish to give the Prince precedence next to herself. Peelhad done exactly what he thought was right, but he could not helpfeeling sensitive when he was brought into so close relationship withthe Queen and knew that this relationship was not welcome to her. "Anyman with the feelings of a gentleman would be annoyed at havingunavoidably given her so much pain," he said. Moreover, he wasexceedingly shy, "so shy that he makes me shy," said the Queen.Fortunately, Sir Robert and Prince Albert found that they had much incommon in their love for literature and art, and the Queen could nothelp liking the man who showed such warm appreciation of the husbandwhom she adored. Very soon Peel paid him a compliment that completelywon her heart. The new houses of Parliament were to be decorated, andthere was a strong desire felt by all who were interested in art thatthey should be so artistic as to be an honor to the country. Peelinvited the Prince to become the chairman of the commission which wasto control the matter. This position gave him the best of opportunitiesto become connected with the prominent men of the country, and bothPrince and Queen were grateful to Peel for his thoughtfulness. TheQueen came to appreciate the Tory Premier; then she saw that the Torieswere not so black as they were painted; and before the end of 1841,Victoria was no longer "Queen of the Whigs," but Queen of all herpeople.
The Queen had no easy life. "She has most of the toil and least of theenjoyments of the world," wrote her husband. She had also much of thedanger. Without an enemy in the world, she was shot at twice during thesummer of 1842 by men who seemed to have no motive for such a deed.When Peel heard of the attempt on her life, he hurried to the palace toconsult with the Prince. The Queen entered the room, and the shy, cold,self-contained Minister actually wept tears of joy at her safety. Afterthat, there was no question about the friendliness between the Queenand her Premier.
Just how these would-be assassins should be punished was an importantmatter, and here the common sense of the sovereign found a way out ofthe dilemma. "It is a mistake," she said, "to treat such attempts ashigh treason, for it dignifies the crime, and makes the criminals feelthat they are bold and daring men." Parliament learned from her wisdomand passed a bill punishing any attempt upon the sovereign's life byimprisonment and flogging. This had so good an effect that the Queensaw seven years of peace before another attempt was made to injure her.
In spite of all these dangers and political responsibilities, Victoriawas radiantly happy. The home life was all that she could have asked.She and the Prince were not only husband and wife, they were the bestof comrades. Whenever they could win a little leisure from the cares ofstate, they read and sketched and sang together. Music gave them boththe most intense pleasure, and both had rare musical ability, which hadbeen carefully cultivated. Mendelssohn describes a visit to them whichhe seems to have enjoyed as much as they.
The great composer says that he found Prince Albert alone, but as theywere looking at the new organ and trying the different stops, the Queencame in, wearing a very simple morning gown.
"I am glad that you have come," she said. "We love your music, and itis a great pleasure to have you with us."
"I thank your Majesty," replied the guest, and he went on to speak ofthe beauty of the organ.
"Yes, it is indeed fine," said the Queen, "but then I think anyinstrument fine when the Prince is playing on it. But what confusion!"she exclaimed, glancing around the room. The wind had scattered leavesof music over the floor, even on the pedals of the organ, and she kneltdown and began to pick them up. Prince Albert and Mendelssohn startedto help, but she said, "No, go on with the stops, and I will put thingsstraight."
"Will you not play something for me?" begged Mendelssohn of the Prince,and added, "so I can boast about it in Germany?" The Prince played,while the Queen sat by him listening and looking perfectly happy. ThenMendelssohn played his chorus, "How Lovely Are the Messengers," butbefore he was at the end of the first verse, his royal hosts weresinging with him.
"It is beautiful," said the Queen. "Have you written any new songs? Iam very fond of your old ones."
"You ought to sing one for him?" suggested the Prince.
"If you only will," pleaded Mendelssohn.
"I will try the 'Fruhling's Lied,'" she said, "if it is here, but I amafraid that all my music is packed to go to Claremont." Prince Albertwent to look for it, but when he returned, he reported that it wasalready packed.
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"But could it perhaps be unpacked?" suggested Mendelssohn daringly.
"It shall be," said the Queen. "We must send to Lady Frances." The bellwas rung, and the servants were sent to find the music, but they wereunsuccessful.
"I will go," the Queen declared, and she left the room. While she wasgone, the Prince said: "She begs that you will accept this present as aremembrance," and he gave the composer a beautiful ring marked "V. R.1842."
When the Queen returned, she said, "It is really most annoying; all mythings are gone to Claremont."
"Please do not make me suffer for the accident," begged Mendelssohn,and at last another song was chosen. "She really sang it charmingly,"he wrote in a letter, but when he told her so, she exclaimed, "Oh! if Ionly had not been so frightened."
The Prince sang, and Mendelssohn gave them one of his wonderfulimprovisations; then the musician took his leave. "But do come toEngland again soon and pay us a visit," said the Queen earnestly, as hemade his farewells.
Running about to see the world was not so common an amusement in thefirst half of the nineteenth century as it is to-day, neither wererailroads as common, and the Queen of England was twenty-three years ofage before she ever made a journey by rail. This new way of travelingproduced quite a disturbance among some of her attendants. The Masterof Horse said that as it was his business to arrange for her journeys,he must assure himself that the engine was in proper condition; and,much to the amusement of the engineer, he appeared at the railwaystation several hours before the train was to start, that he mightinspect the engine, as if it were a horse. There was even moredifficulty in satisfying the claims of the coachman. "When the Queentravels, it is my business to drive for her," he declared; "therefore,I must at least be on the engine." He was permitted to ride on thepilot engine, but the dust and cinders made such havoc with his scarletlivery and his white gloves that he concluded not to press his claimsquite so urgently in future.
This famous journey was only twenty-five minutes long, and in spite ofthe gorgeousness of crimson carpets laid from the royal carriage to thetrain, it could not have been especially comfortable, for airbrakes andgood roadbeds were inventions yet to come. Nevertheless, the royal ladywas not discouraged in her desire to travel, and in the autumn of 1842she and the Prince made a journey to Scotland.
Much that she saw was almost as new to her as it would have been to anyvillage maiden who had never left her home, and she was interested inwhatever came before her. She was especially delighted with Edinburgh."It is beautiful," she wrote; "totally unlike anything else I have everseen." As she entered the city, she was met by the Royal ArchersBodyguard. This was an association formed by one of her royal ancestorsmore than two hundred years before. Its special business was to protectthe sovereign, and in the old days its members were covered from headto foot with armor. Long before Victoria's time the armor had vanished,but in memory of the olden customs each man carried a bow in one handand had arrows stuck through his belt. As soon as the Queen appearedthey began to perform their ancient office, walking close beside thecarriage all the way through the town.
In this journey the Queen and Prince Albert were received by variousnoblemen, but the most picturesque greeting was at the home of LordBreadalbane at Taymouth. As they drove up to the castle, the gates werethrown open, and there stood their host in a Highland dress, at thehead of a company of Highlanders, who were gorgeous in thebright-colored tartan of the Campbells. Pipers were playing on thebagpipes, salutes were fired, the soldiers and the crowd of countryfolk cheered over and over again. When the royal guests went into thehouse and were escorted up the wide stone staircase long lines ofHighlanders in kilts stood on both sides of the hall and the stairway.It is no wonder that the Queen wrote in her journal that it seemed likethe old feudal times. In the evening the gardens were illuminated.There were no electric lights then, but she says there was "a wholechain of lamps along the railing, and on the ground was written inlamps, 'Welcome, Victoria--Albert.'" Bonfires were kindled on the topsof the hills, and fireworks were set off. Then the bagpipes began toplay, torches were brought on the lawn in front of the house, and bytheir wild and flaring light the Highlanders danced the gayest,merriest reels that can be imagined. The visitors spent several days inthis charming place. A ball was given for them, but the Queen seems tohave enjoyed much more heartily the quiet drives that she took aboutthe country, the row up the lake, with two pipers sitting in the bow ofthe boat, piping and singing weird Gaelic boat songs; and perhaps mostof all, the little picnics they had and the walks that they took, forthere was no one to stare at them, and they roamed about in perfectfreedom, guarded only by two Highlanders who, according to the ancientcustom, followed them with drawn swords wherever they went.
The Queen in 1845.(_From a painting by John Partridge._)]
During the next two or three years, the Queen and Prince Albert seizedevery opportunity for travel, short though their journeys had to be.They visited not only several of the lordly mansions of England, butthey also spent a few days in Belgium and made a short stay at thecourt of the French King. In 1844, they went again to Scotland, andthis time "Vicky," as they called the Princess Royal, was old enough togo with them. There were two more children in the royal nursery by thistime, and the Queen wrote in her journal that "Alice and the baby andgood Bertie" came to bid the travelers farewell. She was quitedelighted that "Vicky" stood at the window of a little inn and bowed tothe people outside. One of her hosts on this visit to Scotland was theDuke of Argyll. She describes in her journal his son, the two-year oldMarquis of Lome, and calls him "such a merry, independent littlechild."
One of the disadvantages of being a sovereign is that the simplest actsare looked upon as being of political significance. Victoria wished tomeet the French King, to whom Prince Albert was distantly related, andshe did not wish to talk politics. On her visit to France she wasinterested in seeing the King's barge and its many oarsmen in white,with red sashes; in the royal chapel, the first Roman Catholic churchthat she had ever entered; in the little picnic that the King orderedin the forest; in the picturesque white caps of the peasant women,their bright-colored aprons and kerchiefs; and she noted even the toneof the church bells, and said that it was much prettier than that ofthe bells in England. She enjoyed her visit heartily; but far away inRussia the keen-eyed Emperor Nicholas was watching her movements, andhe was not quite pleased. "The government of Turkey will soon fall topieces," he said to himself, "and if it does, France would like tosecure a piece of that country. If England should help her, she mightbe able to do so, and this visit looks as if England and France werebecoming too friendly." The result of the Czar's meditations was thatword was sent to the Queen that he was on his way to visit her andmight be looked for at once. Queen Victoria had expected him to comethe following year, but he liked to make visits in this sudden fashion,and there was nothing to do but to prepare for him as best she could inforty-eight hours, for she had no longer time in which to make ready.
The Queen had not been especially anxious for the visit, she fearedthere would be "constraint and bustle;" but she soon found that quiet,simple ways of living were most pleasing to her guest, and she wrote toKing Leopold, "He is very easy to get on with." His greatest interestwas in military matters, and he was so much of a soldier that he saidhe felt without his uniform almost as if he had been skinned. He wastaken to a review, of course, and this he thoroughly enjoyed. "Won'tyou allow me to ride down the line," he asked the Queen, "so I can seemy old comrades?" Down the line he went, and was greeted everywherewith enthusiastic cheers. When the Duke of Wellington appeared, thecrowd began to hurrah for him, for the man who had won the battle ofWaterloo was the nation's idol. "Please don't, please don't," he said,riding along close to the crowd. "Don't cheer for me; cheer for theEmperor."
This military Emperor had his own ideas about what the bed of a soldiershould be, even if the soldier was at the head of an empire, and beforehe took possession of his bedroom at Windsor Castle, he had hiscamp-b
ed set up, and sent to the stables for straw to stuff theleathern case that formed his mattress.
The Emperor was delighted with his visit, and when the Queen invitedhim to come again, he said rather sadly: "You do not know how difficultit is for us to do such things." Then he kissed the royal children andthe hand of the Queen, and made his farewells. The Queen kissed him, assovereigns are expected to do at the beginning and end of a statevisit, and the reception of the mighty Czar was over. "By living in thesame house together quietly and unrestrainedly, I not only see thesegreat people but know them," said the Queen as simply as if she herselfwere not one of the "great people."