Upon hearing Tory objections to her granting the Prince the precedence she had in mind for him, the Queen was quite as cross as Melbourne had feared she would be. She 'raged away', perfectly 'frantic', in her own words, railing at her uncles and the vile, confounded, 'infernal Tories' responsible for this 'outrageous insult'. They were 'wretches', 'scoundrels' 'capable of every villainy [and] personal spite'. 'Poor dear Albert, how cruelly they are ill-using that dearest Angel! You Tories shall be punished. Revenge! Revenge!'15
In her anger she turned upon Melbourne himself. She was forced to concede that the state of feeling in the country, the unemployment and the unrest - the plight of the poor which he usually did not care to think or talk about - made the reduction of Albert's allowance at least tolerable. But there could be no excuse for this cruel slight over the matter of precedence. Lord Melbourne really ought to have foreseen the trouble that there might be. He should not have led her 'to expect no difficulties'.
Melbourne unwisely commented that there would not have been such difficulties were Prince Albert not a foreigner: foreigners always caused trouble, particularly from Coburg. They had been through all this before, the Queen crossly rejoined. She could never have married one of her own subjects, and she was not marrying Albert because he was a Coburg but because she loved him and he was worthy of her love. Later Melbourne tactlessly stumbled into trouble again when the Queen remarked that one of the things she most loved about Albert was his indifference to the charms of all women other than herself. 'No,' said Melbourne carelessly, 'that sort of thing is apt to come later.' It was 'an odd remark to make to any woman on the eve of marriage, let alone the Queen, Lord Clarendon observed when Melbourne told him of this gaffe, chuckling 'over it amazingly'. Certainly the Queen took it very ill. 'I shan't,' she said, 'forgive you for that.'
She did, of course, and she came close to forgiving the Duke of Wellington when, having read a pamphlet prepared by Charles Greville, he changed his mind about Prince Albert's precedence. The Queen, he now declared, much to the annoyance of the Duke of Cambridge, had 'a perfect right to give her husband whatever precedence she pleased'. So, the Lord Chancellor and the Attorney General concurring, Letters Patent granting the Prince the precedence she had wanted to give him were issued by the Queen. From then on the Queen's attitude to the Duke of Wellington softened. He had, after all, supported her when she had expressed a wish to be accompanied only by her mother and one of her ladies in the state coach on her way to St James's Palace to be proclaimed. Her Master of the Horse, Lord Albemarle, insisted that he had a right to ride with her as he had done with William IV. 'The point was submitted to the Duke of Wellington as a kind of universal referee in matters of precedence and usage. His judgement was delightfully unflattering to the outraged magnate - "The Queen can make you go inside the coach or outside the coach or run behind it like a tinker's dog."'16 The Queen decided to ask the Duke to her wedding after all. She drew the line, however, at inviting him to the wedding breakfast. She had not entirely forgiven him yet. 'Our Gracious,' Wellington concluded, was still 'very much out of Temper.'17
A problem which concerned the Prince far more than his title or his precedence was the composition of his Household which he hoped would be of perfect respectability, unlike the Queen's which comprised a number of men whose morals were highly questionable, including the Lord Chamberlain, the Marquess of Conyngham, whose mistress was employed as Housekeeper at Buckingham Palace, and the Earl of Uxbridge, the Lord Steward, whose mistress had also been found a position in Her Majesty's household. Indeed, there were so many Pagets living at Court, in addition to Lord Alfred Paget, the Clerk-Marshal, that it was known as 'the Paget Club House'.
Prince Albert had assumed that he would be allowed to choose his gentlemen himself and that some of them might be German and all, of course, 'well educated and of high character'. Believing as he did that the Crown should not display a preference for any political party, that King William IV had been much misguided to favour the Tories and Queen Victoria was equally in error to demonstrate her support of the Whigs, he had hoped that his own household would indicate his impartiality. 'It is very necessary,' he wrote, 'that they should be chosen from both sides - the same number of Whigs as of Tories.'18
The Queen, encouraged by Melbourne, did not agree. 'As to your wish about your Gentlemen, my dear Albert,' she told him severely, 'I must tell you quite honestly that it will not do. You may entirely rely upon me that the people who will be round you will be absolutely pleasant people of high standing and good character ... You may rely upon my care that you shall have proper people and not idle and not too young and Lord Melbourne has already mentioned several to me who would be very suitable. '19
It was useless for the Prince to protest. 'I am very sorry,' he had replied, 'that you have not been able to grant my first request, the one about the Gentlemen, for I know it was not an unfair one ... Think of my position, dear Victoria, I am leaving my home with all its associations, all my bosom friends, and going to a country in which everything is new and strange to me ... Except yourself I have no one to confide in. And it is not even to be conceded to me that the two or three persons who are to have the charge of my private affairs should be persons who already command my confidence.'20
The Queen was not softened by this appeal, although Lord Melbourne thought that it might now be better to give way, and King Leopold wrote what the Queen described as 'an ungracious letter' urging the Prime Minister to persuade the Queen to take a 'correct view'. But, so she wrote to Prince Albert, that was just like Uncle Leopold: he was 'given to believe that he must rule the roast [sic] everywhere ... I am distressed to be obliged to tell you what I fear you do not like but it is necessary, my dearest most excellent Albert ... I only do it as I know it is for your own good.' It was conceded that a German whom the Prince did know, Herr Schenk, should be appointed to a minor post which did not entitle him to a place at the equerries' table; but the appointment of Private Secretary, the principal post in his Household, was to be filled by George Anson who was not only a confirmed Whig and Secretary to the Whig Prime Minister, Lord Melbourne, but whose uncle, Sir George Anson (chosen for an appointment as Groom of the Bedchamber), was also a Whig. In vain the Prince protested to his 'dearest love' that taking the Secretary of the Prime Minister as his own Private Secretary would surely from the beginning make him 'a partisan in the eyes of many'. The Queen, however, was 'very much in favour' of the appointment: Mr Anson was 'an excellent young man, very modest, very honest, very steady, very well informed' and would be 'of much use' to him. Further objection was clearly useless: advised to do so by Baron Stockmar, the Prince gave way, on condition that Anson resigned as the Prime Minister's Secretary before he became his own.21
The Prince submitted with a good grace, much to the relief of the Queen who had been warned by King Leopold that Prince Albert had seemed 'pretty full of grievances' when he had passed through Brussels on his way back to England. She had, in fact, been so worried that he would be resentful that she was feeling ill when he returned. But all was well. 'Seeing his dear dear face again' put her 'at rest about everything'.22
Almost at once she spoke to him about Anson's appointment and the 'little misunderstandings' that had arisen because of it. He accepted the fait accompli and was, so the Queen said, 'so dear and ehrlich [honest] and open about it'. She 'embraced him again and again'.23 Her recent peevishness evaporated in her love for him, in her pleasure at his having given way to her demands and in excited anticipation of their marriage. Yet she felt it impossible to agree with his suggestion that her bridesmaids must be selected only from those young ladies whose mothers were of unblemished character. Lord Melbourne had been aghast at this suggestion. As he told Greville, the Prince was 'a great stickler for morality' and 'extremely strait-laced'. He did not seem to appreciate that the lower orders should, of course, be judged by moral standards but those of high birth must be deemed above such considerations. The Queen at first objected
that there surely could not be one set of moral standards for the humble poor and another for the aristocratic rich; but she acknowledged the impossibility of submitting to Prince Albert's severe proscriptions; and among the twelve tall, plain bridesmaids there were several whose mothers could not have passed his test.
'I always think one ought always to be indulgent towards other people,' the Queen explained to Prince Albert, 'as I always think, if we had not been well brought up and well taken care of, we might also have gone astray.'24
The evening before the wedding the Queen and Prince Albert went through the marriage service together and, mindful of the painful embarrassment at the coronation, tried on the ring. The Prince, who had endured yet another fearful Channel crossing, seemed tired and rather nervous, still suffering from the effects of severe seasickness which had left his face, so he said, more the colour of a wax candle than that of a human visage. But the Queen was in high spirits and serenely happy. She went to bed excitedly conscious that it would be, as she wrote in her journal, the last time she would sleep alone. She slept peacefully, quite untroubled by the agitation she had noticed in her dear bridegroom's manner, worried only by the thought that she might have a lot of children.
Chapter 16
HONEYMOON
'I am only the husband, and not the master of the house.'
The Queen awoke on Monday, 10 February 1840 to a blustery morning with torrents of rain splashing against her bedroom windows; but the clouds soon cleared and, as was so often to happen on important days in her life, the sun came out for an afternoon of what was to become known as 'Queen's weather'. After breakfast - in defiance of the traditional belief (in her opinion a 'foolish nonsense') that it was unlucky to do so - she went to see the bridegroom to whom she had already written a note: 'Dearest, How are you today and have you slept well? I have rested very well, and feel very comfortable ... What weather! I believe, however, the rain will cease. Send one word when you, my most dearly loved bridegroom, will be ready. Thy ever faithful, Victoria R.'1 Then, with a wreath of orange flower blossoms on her head, wearing a white satin dress and a sapphire brooch set with diamonds, a present from the Prince, and accompanied by her mother and the Duchess of Sutherland, she was driven to the Chapel Royal, St James's, where the marriage was to be celebrated, much to the annoyance of the Queen who thought it a 'shocking locale'. She would have had a private ceremony had not Melbourne spoken strongly against it, for she had, so she said, 'a horror' of being married before a large congregation. She would have far preferred a simple ceremony in a room at Buckingham Palace, a small room which would afford her an excellent excuse not to ask people she did not want. The Duke of Sussex, wearing the black skullcap he so often affected, and close to the tears he was to shed throughout the ceremony, gave her away, quite ready as always, so it was said of him, to give away what did not belong to him.2 He led her to the altar where Prince Albert, looking pale in the uniform of a British field-marshal, and decorated with the Order of the Garter, stood waiting for her. Albert's nervousness, so it was supposed, was increased by the loud whispers of Queen Adelaide and of his aunt, the Duchess of Kent, who was plainly annoyed by the fact that once again she had been given a place that did not accord with what she conceived to be her precedence.
The Queen's progress up the aisle was much impeded by the bridesmaids who, since her train was far too short to allow them all to grasp it while walking normally, had to trip forward as though walking on ice in order not to tread on each other's ankles.3 But the Queen 'only felt so happy'. She was pale and rather nervous - the congregation could see the orange flower blossoms quivering on her head. But she made her responses in confident tones, and remained perfectly patient when the Duke of Norfolk, insisting that as Earl Marshal it was his privilege and duty to sign the register first, could not find his spectacles in order to do so and kept all the others waiting while he went through one pocket after another in a laborious attempt to locate them.
Unlike her coronation, the marriage service passed off without too many untoward incidents, although the Queen's uncle, the Duke of Cambridge was - by contrast with the 'disconsolate and distressed' Duchess of Kent - 'decidedly gay, making very audible remarks from time to time'; while the bridegroom himself was 'certainly a good deal perplexed and agitated in delivering his responses'.4
The bride, however, had behaved 'with much grace and propriety', according to Charles Greville, 'not without emotion, though sufficiently subdued'. She had been seen to tremble as she entered the Chapel and as the congregation applauded her as she stood before the altar. But her voice had been clear and confident and her 'eye bright and calm'. As she left the Chapel it was noticed that she paused to kiss her aunt, Queen Adelaide; but that she merely shook hands with her mother.5
It was also remarked that of the three hundred or so people in the Chapel, very, very few were Tories. Indeed, Charles Greville said that, apart from the Duke of Wellington and Lord Liverpool, there were only three Tories there, Lord Willoughby de Eresby and the Marquess of Cholmondeley, whose presence was required as joint Lord Great Chamberlains, and Lord Ashley, who was there because he was married to Lord Melbourne's niece, Lady Emily Cowper. The Queen 'had been as wilful, obstinate and wrong-headed as usual about the invitations,' Greville said, 'and some of her foolish and mischievous Courtiers were boasting' about the pointedly small number of Tories invited. 'The D. and Dss of Northumberland [her former governess] were not there and She did worse than not invite them ... for the invitation was sent so late that they could not have got it in time to come; and the truth is that it was intended not to invite them at all. Nothing could be more improper and foolish than to make this a mere Whig party, and if She was to make a selection, She might with great propriety have invited all those, such as the D. of Rutland and [the Marquess of] Exeter, who had formerly received and entertained her at their houses. But She would not, and stuffed in a parcel of Whigs taken apparently at haphazard, in preference to any of these.'6
The Queen returned with her husband for the wedding breakfast to Buckingham Palace where, awaiting them, was an enormous wedding cake, three yards in circumference, which needed four men to carry in.7 Lord Melbourne came up to congratulate her. 'Nothing could have gone off better,' he assured her. She pressed his hand and 'he said, "God bless you, Ma'am" most kindly, and with such a kind look'.8 He, too, had done well, carrying the Sword of State with far more ease and confidence than he had shown at the coronation and wearing a magnificent dress coat which, to the Queen's delighted amusement, he had claimed would be the 'Thing most observed' at the marriage ceremony.
During the half hour which the Queen and Prince spent alone together before the wedding breakfast, the Queen gave her husband a wedding ring; and he said there must never be a secret which they did not share. After the breakfast, so the Queen recorded, 'Dearest Albert came up and fetched me downstairs, where we took leave of Mamma and drove off at near 4, Albert and I alone which was SO delightful'.9
Upon leaving the Palace for Windsor She and her young Husband were pretty well received [Charles Greville reported], but they went off in a very poor and shabby style. Instead of the new chariot in which most married people are accustomed to dash along, they were in one of the old travelling coaches, the postillions in undressed liveries, and with a small escort, three other coaches with post horses following. The crowds on the roads were so great that they did not reach the Castle till 8 o'clock.10
'Our reception was most enthusiastic and hearty and gratifying in every way,' the Queen confirmed. 'There was an immense crowd of people outside the Palace, and which I must say never ceased until we reached Windsor Castle ... the people quite deafening us; and horsemen and gigs etc. driving along with us. We came through Eton where all the Boys ... cheered and shouted. Really I was quite touched.'11
On arrival at Windsor she inspected the apartments which had been prepared for them, changed her dress, then went into the Prince's room where she found him playing the piano and
wearing the Windsor uniform with which, as a clothes-conscious man, he had replaced the travelling outfit he had worn in the coach, this in turn having replaced the field-marshal's uniform. He stood up, put his arms around her and was 'so dear and kind'.
We had our dinner in our sitting room [the Queen recorded], but I had such a sick headache that I could eat nothing, and was obliged to lie down in the middle blue room for the remainder of the evening on the sofa; but ill or not, I NEVER, NEVER spent such an evening!! MY DEAREST DEAREST DEAR Albert sat on a footstool by my side, and his excessive love and affection gave me feelings of heavenly love and happiness I never could have hoped to have felt before! He clasped me in his arms, and we kissed each other again and again! His beauty, his sweetness and gentleness -really how can I ever be thankful enough to have such a Husband! ... to be called by names of tenderness, I have never yet heard used to me before - was bliss beyond belief! Oh! this was the happiest day of my life! - May God help me to do my duty as I ought and be worthy of such blessings!12
It was also bliss beyond belief to wake up next morning, after having, so she said, not slept very much, and to find that 'beautiful angelic face' by her side. 'It was,' she wrote, 'more than I can express.' 'He does look so beautiful in his shirt only, with his beautiful throat seen. '13 It was bliss also to have him with her at breakfast and to gaze again upon his naked throat, exposed above the black velvet collar of his jacket, to walk with him arm in arm upon the Terrace where her grandfather King George III had paraded with Queen Charlotte and their several daughters, to write letters in her sitting room while he, exhausted and still suffering from the effects of his dreadful seasickness, dozed on a sofa, then rested his 'darling head' on her shoulder. It was delightful, too, to watch him shave in the morning and to have him put on her stockings for her.14
QUEEN VICTORIA A Personal History Page 14