So Albert began planning for Christmas, which should be spent at Windsor; and the Queen, who loved festivities and was only too delighted to have Albert friendly and appearing to have forgotten their differences, listened excitedly.
She was happy sitting beside Albert as the carriage rolled along, the nurses following behind with Lehzen and dear Pussy.
Albert was telling her about Christmases at Rosenau and how he and his brother had gone into the forest and brought home the yule logs. All the presents had been arranged on tables under the Christmas trees and each member of the household had his or her own table.
It had been very similar in Kensington Palace, said Victoria. After all Mama had come to England from Leiningen and had brought the same family customs to Kensington.
‘I want this to be a very happy Christmas,’ said Victoria, feeling contrite about the terrible thing she had said to Albert. She took his hand, and laughing added: ‘I shall try to control my terrible temper and then I shan’t say things I don’t mean and for which I am so sorry afterwards.’
Albert pressed her hand and said he loved her generous heart.
So she was very happy driving along the frosty roads and she shared Albert’s pleasure at the sight of the stately castle and could scarcely wait to step within its ancient walls.
It was a wonderful Christmas. Albert threw himself wholeheartedly into the task of decorating the apartments. He ordered many trees to be cut and between them he and the Queen adorned them with candles and little gifts which could be tied on. Beneath them were the surprise parcels and Victoria could scarcely wait for Christmas Day when the packages should be unwrapped amid cries of pleasure and delighted amazement.
It was all rather as it had been when she was a little girl and she remembered how different Mama had been on such occasions. In fact Mama, who was with them at Windsor, had changed a great deal since the departure of her Comptroller of the Household, Sir John Conroy, and the arrival of Albert, who always referred to her as Dearest Mama. As for the Duchess, she was very fond of Albert and this had meant that relations between Victoria and her mother had changed.
Again the trouble was the Baroness, who had thought the Duchess had treated Victoria harshly when they were all at Kensington and they would never really get on.
So there were the Duchess and Albert ranged against the Baroness. Victoria frowned. Whatever happened, she had told herself, no one – simply no one – was going to turn her against her dearest Lehzen.
But Christmas was not a time for conflict. They must all be happy together and because she was sorry for her outburst Victoria had agreed to a quiet Christmas. There would be no grand ball, just an evening when they might dance a little or play games and Albert would leave his beloved double chess and play a round game in which everyone could join. Mama could have her whist which would keep her awake and satisfy her; and even Lehzen fell in with the general view because she said she did not want Victoria to be exhausted. It was too soon after her confinement and she must take care.
She and Albert rode out in the morning and what fun it was galloping down the long avenue to Snow Hill where the statue of her grandfather George III had been erected.
‘He was always quarrelling with Uncle George,’ she said, ‘but at least Uncle George had that statue put there to his memory.’
‘It would have been better to have tried to please him while he was alive than to erect a statue to him when he was dead.’
‘You are right, Albert,’ she said solemnly.
They galloped through the Great Park and she told Albert the legend of Herne the Hunter, one of the keepers who was said to have hanged himself on an oak tree and now haunted the forest. If he appeared to anyone it meant they would die.
Albert was reminded of the legends of the Black Forest and recounted some of them.
She listened avidly. How beautifully Albert told his stories; how handsome he looked on horseback; and how happy she was to have such a husband! There should never really be any differences between them. If only she had not such a violent temper; if only Albert were not so maddeningly calm; if only he and Lehzen could get on together; if only he would realise that after all she was the Queen and, although he was her dearly beloved husband, he was not a king and only a consort and she must have the final say in everything …
But why disturb such a lovely frosty morning with such thoughts.
Albert drew up his horse to admire the perpendicular Gothic architecture of St George’s chapel. Albert knew a great deal about architecture and was able to make her see buildings as she never had before. But then Albert knew a great deal about so many things – music, literature, art.
He said on that Christmas morning: ‘The Court could be more interesting if you invited intellectual people to dinner now and then and perhaps to pay visits.’
‘Intellectual people?’
‘I meant writers, artists, scientists … people like that.’
The Queen was pensive. ‘There would be a lot of clever talk, I daresay, which I shouldn’t understand.’
‘You would in time.’
She was silent. She was certainly not going to have people talking over her head at her dinner parties. But she did not wish to spoil this morning by saying so.
She started to gallop and Albert followed; they rode side by side for a few minutes in silence.
Then she cried: ‘Oh, Albert, what a pleasant ride. How I am enjoying it!’
They sang duets; they played the piano; they sketched the view from the windows because it was too cold to sketch out of doors. ‘My hands get so red,’ said the Queen.
What a happy Christmas that was.
But sadness followed. Going to Dash’s basket one morning she found him dead.
She wept bitterly. Lehzen said: ‘He was old, my love, and he didn’t enjoy the last months. It was rather sad to see him.’
She threw her arms about the Baroness. ‘Do you remember when he came? That odious Sir John Conroy gave him to Mama but he was my dog from the first.’
‘He took one look at you and loved you.’
‘Darling, darling Dashy. He was always so faithful. He used to come to the blue closet when I was with my Prime Minister. Lord M was fond of him and he liked Lord M. All dogs like Lord M and one understands why. But Dashy loved him. He was always licking his boots.’
Lehzen said it was no use grieving as it was all for the best. She must think of poor Dash whose legs were getting stiff with rheumatism and was now out of his pain.
She agreed and felt much better. Then Albert suggested that Dash be buried at Adelaide Cottage, which he had particularly loved, and designed an effigy. Beneath it the beloved body was laid and a plaque was put up to extol his virtues, his selflessness and fidelity.
Victoria knew that every time she visited his grave she would remember the dear companion of her childhood.
* * *
The sojourn at Windsor was marred only by the death of Dash and that had been imminent for some time now. She was finding that she enjoyed the country life far more than she had thought possible.
She told Albert that she was changing her mind about the country and when she saw how this pleased him she enlarged on the subject.
‘In the past I could not wait to get back to London,’ she said, ‘and I was always quite wretched to leave it. But now I am married I am quite unhappy to leave the country.’
Albert was delighted. She was coming his way; he had every hope of success; he would wean her from her pleasure-loving ways; he would make her the serious docile companion he longed for.
He pressed her hand.
‘No regrets of your marriage?’
‘Dear Albert, how could I have been so wicked!’
‘You wicked, my love? Never. It is just that ungovernable temper of yours. It is like an old troll of the mountains who puts words into your mouth which your loving heart could never have conjured up.’
‘That is true, Albert. How clever of you. I often
think how happy I am, and what a poor sort of existence mine was before I was married.’
‘Go on thinking so, my love, I beg of you.’
‘You are so good and so patient.’
‘Together we will fight that old troll of a temper, eh?’
She laughed delightedly. ‘Then if you will fight it with me, Albert, we shall surely conquer it.’
‘I am so happy that you are growing to love the country more.’
‘Well I am beginning to see things differently. You know I couldn’t tell the difference between a blackbird and a thrush and I didn’t know wheat from barley or gorse from hawthorn. It makes such a lot of difference when you know.’
‘Of course it does. That is why I think you would enjoy having interesting people at the palace.’
Her lips tightened a little. ‘I shouldn’t want a banquet to become a sort of lesson, I fear.’
The danger signals. He must remember that too much haste would impede progress.
She went on: ‘And although I do enjoy the country that does not mean that I dislike London and the amusements we have there.’
‘Of course not,’ said Albert calmly. He changed the subject. ‘Have you decided on the date for Pussy’s christening?’
‘An idea came to me. What do you think of the tenth of February?’
‘That,’ said Albert, ‘is a very important date to me.’
‘It is the most important date in my life,’ replied the Queen
fervently. ‘So, dearest Albert, Pussy’s christening day shall be on the anniversary of our wedding.’
Harmony continued at Windsor.
* * *
Mr George Anson called on Lord Melbourne to discuss the progress of the royal couple.
Lord Melbourne listened intently to Mr Anson’s account of the Prince’s dissatisfaction with the company which the Queen kept around her.
‘The Prince,’ said Mr Anson, ‘would like more literary and scientifically minded people to be entertained.’
‘Understandable,’ said Lord Melbourne.
‘But Her Majesty does not wish this. She fears that she would be at a loss with such people.’
Lord Melbourne nodded. ‘She would want to take her fair share in the conversation and would not care for it to go over her head. A pity something wasn’t done about her education. Oh, I know she speaks German, Italian and French – not only speaks them well but writes them. She has a smattering of Latin. If she were not a queen she would be an accomplished young lady, but there has been lack of more cultured tuition. She has a naturally shrewd mind and is quick to pick up information. She is musical, but she has read very little I fear and has hardly any knowledge of the classics. It is a great lack.’
‘The Prince naturally finds the evenings dull,’ said Mr Anson. ‘He is bored with his double chess every evening and now of course he is drawn into the round games which seem positively childish to him.’
‘It is to be hoped that he doesn’t look for excitement in dangerous places,’ said Lord Melbourne.
Mr Anson looked surprised.
‘Well, my dear fellow, there are some very beautiful ladies at Court. I have often felt the Queen was ill advised to choose her ladies for their beauty, which she appears to have done. She loves beauty – particularly in the human form.’
‘The Queen is delighted with the Prince’s utter indifference to other ladies.’
‘It’s early days yet,’ said the Prime Minister. ‘I told her this and she was very indignant. But, if he is going to be bored in the evenings, she should take care. The Prince has been very successful so far. Oh, I know there have been some stormy scenes. I know well that royal temper. But his success has been remarkable. It may well be that very soon you will be seeing the company at the palace becoming literary and scientific and far more intellectual, but the Prince must be wary.’
‘He knows that very well, Lord Melbourne.’
‘And the Daisy lady?’
‘Still reigns.’
‘A battle royal will take place there one day. And until it is won our Prince should walk very carefully. I have no doubt of the outcome. Albert is a very good chess player. He’ll know the strategy. His danger is impatience.’
‘He is a very patient man, Prime Minister.’
‘He needs to be. Let him remember that and he’ll be the victor. I’ll prophesy that if he is clever enough he’ll clear the palace of his enemies and be master in his house.’
Lord Melbourne was a little sad, thinking of the days when he was the most important one in the Queen’s life. What a happy time that had been! He had lost his cynicism and had felt like a young man in love. But he had not been a young man and the object of his devotion was a young girl – a queen – to whom he could never speak of love.
But there was love between them – on his side an enduring love. That was why he wanted above all things to see her happy.
And she would be of course, and he would know that she was when Albert became master in the house. A long battle lay before the Prince. He, the Prime Minister, hoped that he would live long enough to see that battle won, for only if the Prince was the victor could Victoria be happy.
Chapter X
LORD MELBOURNE DEPARTS
The Christmas holidays were coming to an end. Lord Melbourne wrote to the Queen condoling with her because, against her will, she must return to London for the opening of Parliament. It was an ordeal which the Queen would have happily missed.
The Queen had reproved Lord Melbourne for not coming to Windsor. It was a long time since she had seen him and he knew that she did not like to be away from him for too long.
He could not, wrote the Prime Minister, leave London because of the uncertain state of politics and when she did arrive in London he would have a few words with her about the speech from the throne, which would have to be more carefully worded than usual because of the country’s rather uneasy relations with France.
He was very happy though, he wrote, to hear that she was reluctant to leave the country, which he construed as meaning that the simple pleasures shared with her husband were more enjoyable to her than the unavoidably public life in London. He believed that this meant she was very happy and there was nothing on earth that Lord Melbourne desired more than her happiness.
‘Dearest Lord M,’ murmured the Queen when she read that letter. At least one thing would make her happy to return to London; she would see her Prime Minister.
* * *
Uncle Leopold wrote that although discretion had prevented his being present at Victoria’s coronation and wedding, he would come to the baptism of the Princess Royal.
Albert was delighted. It would be a wonderful reunion and they would have so much to talk about. He must not of course mention their differences. Uncle Leopold would make a big issue of that and could well give all sorts of advice not only to Albert but to Victoria which might prove fatal to Albert’s hopes.
On the 23rd of January Victoria opened Parliament and when that was over all her thoughts were directed to the christening. At the beginning of February the weather turned very cold and there was ice on the lake in Buckingham Palace gardens. The Prince’s eyes sparkled. It reminded him of the skating he and Ernest had so much enjoyed in Coburg.
Day after day the frost continued and a few days before that fixed for the christening Albert declared that the lake was hard enough for skating.
Victoria wanted to join him but he begged her not to. ‘I should be overcome by anxiety. It is too soon after Pussy’s birth,’ said Albert.
Because he begged and did not command, Victoria was happy to fall in with his wishes and touched, she said, by his care of her. So each day she and her ladies would go out into the grounds of Buckingham Palace to watch the skaters, and the Queen was delighted with the figure Albert cut on the ice. He was an expert.
The palace garden with its forty acres was a consolation to Albert for having to live in London. The lake was delightful and there was a pleasant s
ummer-house situated on a mound for which he had plans. He was one day going to have it decorated and made into a refuge from the great palace which, though so close, was invisible during summer when the trees were thick with leaves.
On the day before the christening it seemed a little warmer. The Queen commented on it to the Duchess of Sutherland and some of the other ladies as they made their way to the lake where the Prince was already skating. He liked her to watch him.
As she came near to the lake she saw Albert. He waved to her. She waved back.
‘How beautifully he moves!’ she murmured.
As Albert skated towards her there was a sudden sound of cracking ice and the Prince, throwing up his hands, disappeared. Where he had been was a big hole of dark water.
The ladies started to scream. One of them ran to the palace to get help. But Victoria could only think that Albert had disappeared beneath the ice.
She ran to the lake. ‘Albert!’ she cried desperately.
His head appeared.
‘Albert, I’m coming,’ she said, though she was not quite sure what she could do.
‘Go back!’ called Albert. ‘It’s dangerous.’
But she took no notice. Cautiously she ventured on to the ice, testing it with her foot before taking a step forward. She held out her hands to him.
Albert by this time was scrambling out. ‘My dearest,’ he panted, ‘keep away.’
But she had seized his arm and was pulling him out of the water.
The ice seemed firm where Victoria stood and later she heard that it had been broken just where Albert had fallen in and had lightly frozen over again, which was why it was so weak at that particular spot.
Clinging together they reached the bank.
‘My brave love!’ said Albert. ‘You might have joined me beneath the ice …’
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