There was naturally a tremendous jealousy of the many German servants introduced by the Prince, and in 1848 it was pointed out by a newspaper that Richard the Second’s Chamberlain was impeached for introducing aliens into the King’s Household; the writer advocated a similar proceeding, though he added a belief that the Lord Chamberlain was not really responsible for the numerous appointments of foreigners.
Among these foreigners was a man named Heller, who came to England with the Prince as courier, and who was appointed by the Prince in 1842 to be Page of the Chambers, the impression being that among his other duties he was to be the “overlooker” of the other pages. These others, being English, bitterly resented this, and there were frequent rows between Heller and the other men. Once a page named Kinnaird was so enraged that, in spite of Albert’s presence, he threatened to throw Heller over the banisters, telling the Prince that he “would not be insulted by a foreigner.”
Another change made, and a very sensible one, was the abolition of fees for seeing the interior of Windsor Castle. Lady Mary Fox, a daughter of William IV. and wife of Major-General Fox, Surveyor-General of the Ordnance, was the State Housekeeper, receiving a residence in the Norman Tower, a salary of £320 a year, and all the fees from the visitors, amounting from £1,200 to £1,500 a year. This post she held until the end of 1845, when she was duly compensated for relinquishing it.
Various matters relating to the Household becoming public made the Prince very angry, and he complained to the Duke of Bedford of the way in which the proceedings at Court were publicly known and discussed. He said that on the Continent it was the Government which knew by its secret agents what its people were doing; while in England it was the people who knew what the Court was about—the Court knowing nothing about other people’s affairs. He did not seem to realise that this was the tax great people had to pay for their position, and that as the public was curious about them the newspapers could and did secure all the information there was to be had. All his life in England Albert hated the “fierce light that beats upon the throne,” and his exclusiveness tended to make the Court unpopular with the multitude. It also led to trouble and annoyance among those who immediately surrounded the Throne, for the Prince and Queen would arrange very important matters in utter secrecy, news of which would leak into the daily papers, while the Queen’s advisers were in entire ignorance. Thus when they went to visit Louise Philippe at the Château d’Eu, the Duke of Wellington and others constantly about the Court knew nothing of it until two or three days beforehand. Yet this visit must have been a long-laid plan, for lawyers had to be consulted as to the necessity of forming a Regency during Her Majesty’s absence. Greville noted of this, “the Queen is to embark on Monday.... On Thursday I mentioned it to Arbuthnot, who said it could not be true. He asked the Duke the same day, who told him he had never heard a word of any such thing.”
In this case it was not difficult to keep the matter quiet, as the yacht Victoria and Albert had just been finished and fitted up most gorgeously—gorgeously is really just the right word—and was in readiness for use. Concerning this yacht, by the way, there was very sore feeling among the officers, who found that their comfort had been sacrificed that the Royal flunkeys might travel in serenity. Thus two officers had to sleep in a little berth measuring seven feet by five, while the pages, who were really footmen, were given a large room with their berths ranged round it. The officers protested respectfully, and, willing to concede their dignity, implored to be allowed half the berths in the pages’ room, the displaced men sleeping on one of the attendant steamers, but their prayer was not granted, as it was thought inconvenience might arise if all the servants were not together.
I could write a book double this size if I included all the stories in which Queen Victoria figured, but I have come to the end of the space allotted me. Yet some of these stories are very tempting, among them being one told by Sir Robert Peel about the Lord Mayor, when the Royal pair went to a banquet at the Guildhall in 1844. It was of this event that Barham wrote:—
“Doctor Darling! think how grand is
Such a sight! The great Lord May’r
Heading all the City dandies