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:—
“Now, however, I come to that important substratum of the people, in which these calumnies were certain to have a great effect. A very considerable portion of the nation had never given itself the trouble to consider what really is the position of the husband of a Queen Regnant. When I first came over here I was met by this want of knowledge and unwillingness to give a thought to the position of this luckless personage. Peel cut down my income, Wellington refused me my rank, the Royal Family cried out against the foreign interloper, the Whigs in office were only inclined to concede to me just as much space as I could stand upon. The Constitution is silent as to the Consort of the Queen, even Blackstone ignores him, and yet there he was, and not to be done without.”
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 following 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 unparalleled 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 discharging 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 not 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.”