CHAPTER XIII.

FIRST MEETING WITH PRINCE ALBERT.

In October, 1839, Prince Albert, with his brother, set out from Brussels to England, to urge his final suit. Ere leaving Germany, he had spent a very pleasant time with his cousin, Count Albert Mensdorff, who was doing military duty with the garrison of Mayence. They then made a short journey together, in the course of which the one cousin confided the great secret to the other. “During our journey,” writes the Count, “Albert confided to me, under the seal of the strictest confidence, that he was going to England to make your acquaintance, and that if you liked each other you were to be engaged.He spoke very seriously about the difficulties of the position he would have to occupy in England, but hoped that dear uncle Leopold would assist him with his advice.” The Princes—Albert bearing with him a shrewd and significant letter to the Queen from King Leopold—arrived at Windsor on the 10th of October, where they were cordially received by their cousin and aunt. The Queen was much struck with the greatly improved appearance of the Prince, in the interval of three years since she had last seen him. Gay and festive entertainments had been arranged in their honour immediately upon their arrival. The Queen became more and more charmed with her cousin, and within a week after his arrival, she informed her Premier, Lord Melbourne, that she had made up her mind to the marriage. In reply, he indicated his own perfect satisfaction, and added that the nation was getting anxious that its sovereign should be married; and then he said, in a kindly way, “You will be much more comfortable; for a woman cannot stand alone for any time, in whatever position she may be.”

The following we present, without professing either to confirm or question its accuracy, but simply as being the commonly-received report, at the time, of the manner in which the engagement was finally effected between the parties directly interested:—

The Prince, in his turn, played the part of a royal lover with all the grace peculiar to his house. He never willingly absented himself from the Queen’s society and presence, and her every wish was anticipated with the alacrity of an unfeigned attachment. At length Her Majesty, having wholly made up her mind as to the issue of this visit, found herself in some measure embarrassed as to the fit and proper means of indicating her preference to the Prince. This wasa perplexing task, but the Queen acquitted herself of it with equal delicacy and tact. At one of the Palace balls she took occasion to present her bouquet to the Prince at the conclusion of a dance, and the hint was not lost upon the polite and gallant German. His close uniform, buttoned up to the throat, did not admit of his placing the Persian-like gift where it would be most honoured; so he immediately drew his penknife and cut a slit in his dress in the neighbourhood of his heart, where he gracefully deposited the happy omen. Again, to announce to the Privy Council her intended union was an easy duty in comparison to that of intimating her wishes to the principal party concerned; and here, too, it is said that our Sovereign Lady displayed unusual presence of mind and female ingenuity. The Prince was expressing the grateful sense which he entertained of his reception in England, and the delight which he experienced during his stay from the kind attentions of royalty, when the Queen, very naturally and very pointedly, put to him the question upon which their future fates depended: “If, indeed, your Highness is so much pleased with this country, perhaps you would not object to remaining in it, and making it your home?” No one can doubt the reply.

THE BETROTHAL.

The day after the Queen’s communication to her Premier, she caused an intimation to be conveyed to her lover that she desired to see him in private. The Prince at once waited upon her, and after a few minutes’ general conversation, the Queen told him why she had sent for him, and modestly but plainly said that she was quite willing now to undertake the bond of betrothal. Of course, there was only one possible response, and the Prince joyously wrote the next day to his trusty friend and tried counsellor, Baron Stockmar, “on one of the happiest days of his life, to give him the most welcome news.” The betrothal was at once communicated to Prince Ernest, to King Leopold, and to the Duke of Coburg. From these and other relatives to whom the news, as yet to be kept a family secret, was sent, the warmest felicitations quickly poured in. Leopold wrote,commending Albert in the highest terms, and emphatically congratulating Victoria on having secured an unmistakably good husband, concluding with the prayer, “May Albert be able to strew roses without thorns on the pathway of life of our good Victoria!”

The Queen had intended to make her first formal announcement of her intended marriage to her Parliament; but on second thoughts, she altered her resolve, and selected her Privy Council as the first official recipients of the tidings. Of course, the Ministers had been already confidentially informed of the Queen’s purpose; and they strongly counselled an early union, and both Queen and Prince acquiesced in the proposal. After happy and rapturous days of undoubted and now freely-acknowledged attachment, the Princes returned to Germany, on the 14th of November, after a visit lasting just five weeks; Ernest to return to his military duties, Albert to say farewell to friends and fatherland, ere finally returning to the region of his new life and love.

THE QUEEN WEDDED.

Announcement of the intended Marriage to the Privy Council and Parliament—Parliamentary Settlement of the Prince’s Rank, &c.—Annoying Circumstances—The Prince’s Protestantism—His Income—Arrival of the Bridegroom—Receives a National Welcome—The Wedding—Honeymoon spent at Windsor.

On the day after the departure of the Princes, the Queen wrote letters to the Queen Dowager, and the other members of the Royal Family, informing them of her intended marriage, and received kind letters in return from all. A few days later she and her mother came from Windsor to Buckingham Palace, where Lord Melbourne submitted the draft of the proposed Declaration to the Privy Council. His Lordship told the Queen that the Cabinet had unanimously agreed that £50,000 would be an appropriate annual allowance for the Prince, and that they anticipated no Parliamentary opposition to that amount. He also stated that there had been a stupid attempt to make it out that he was a Roman Catholic, and that “he was afraid to say anything about his religion,” and accordingly had not touched upon it in the Declaration. This turned out, as we shall see, a very unwise omission; it actually gave colour and consistency to the absurd report.

ANNOUNCEMENT OF THE BETROTHAL.

On the 23rd of November, eighty-three members of the Privy Council met in Buckingham Palace. Preciselyat two the Queen entered. She evinced much natural agitation, but was considerably reassured by a kindly and paternal look from her staunch friend, Lord Melbourne; whereupon she read the Declaration, which ran thus:—

I have caused you to be summoned at the present time in order that I may acquaint you with my resolution in a matter which deeply concerns the welfare of my people, and the happiness of my future life. It is my intention to ally myself in marriage with the Prince Albert of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha. Deeply impressed with the solemnity of the engagement which I am about to contract, I have not come to this decision without mature consideration, nor without feeling a strong assurance that, with the blessing of Almighty God, it will at once secure my domestic felicity and serve the interests of my country. I have thought fit to make this resolution known to you at the earliest period, in order that you may be apprised of a matter so highly important to me and to my kingdom, and which, I persuade myself, will be most acceptable to all my loving subjects.

The moment the Queen had read the Declaration, Lord Lansdowne rose and asked, in the name of the Council, that “this most gracious and most welcome communication might be printed.” Leave was granted, and Her Majesty left the room, the whole ceremony having occupied only two or three minutes. The Duke of Cambridge followed his niece into the ante-room, and warmly congratulated her. The Declaration appeared in the nextGazette, whence it was copied into all the newspapers, and was joyfully read and received over the whole land.

There were now important questions to be settled, in Parliament, in the Council, and by the exercise of the Royal prerogative, as to the future rank and station of the Prince. Such were—Should he be made a peer? as had been the last consort of an English Queen, Prince George of Denmark, the husband of Queen Anne, of whom theonly good thing that can be said is, that he accidentally made Arbuthnot, Pope’s great friend and fellow-labourer, his Court physician. The idea of being made a peer was strenuously, sensibly, and successfully resisted by the Prince. Then there were the practical questions of his naturalisation, the selection of his Household, his position in the scale of precedence, and his income. So far as the Prince legitimately could and did meddle with the solution of these knotty points, he showed, when necessary, great sagacity, and a firmness very wondrous in one so young. From the very moment of his betrothal, he regarded himself as the custodian and guardian of his future wife’s, rather than his own, independent position and unfettered dignity. It was not himself, but the husband of the Queen on behalf of whom he took a firm line.

The Queen wished to give her husband precedence next after herself. Some difficulty was experienced in procuring the consent of the Royal Dukes, but at last their scruples were removed. Only the King of Hanover stubbornly held out, and the Duke of Wellington, in the House of Peers, declined on behalf of his party to consent. The proposal was, therefore, withdrawn from Parliament, but shortly after the Queen conferred a patent of precedence by the exercise of her own prerogative. On a similar matter of dispute, it was not until the Prince himself had pointed out the unaccountably overlooked precedent of the privilege as enjoyed by Prince Leopold in the life-time of the Princess Charlotte, that Garter King-at-Arms could be induced to withdraw his opinion adverse to Prince Albert quartering the Royal Arms of England with his own.

In the matter of his Household, the Prince’s own admirable judgment solved the difficulty with the clear adroitness of honest simplicity. He stipulated that considerations of party should have nothing to do with these appointments; that they should be filled by men of undoubted probity and purity of character; and he indicated his decided wish that they should be men of some kind of eminence; either very rich, very clever, or men who had deserved well of their country in the field of science or of arms. These wishes, to the Prince’s considerable annoyance, were not all closely followed out.

ANNOUNCEMENT TO PARLIAMENT.

The Queen was tremendously cheered when, in January, 1840, she went to open Parliament, and no doubt was left in her mind as to the thorough popularity of the proposed union. The announcement of her intention contained in the Speech was a virtual repetition of that already made to the Council. From both sides of both Houses she was personally congratulated, and her choice approved, but the Duke of Wellington strongly objected to the omission of the statement that the Prince was a Protestant, with some shrewdness attributing its absence to Melbourne’s reluctance to irritate his Irish Catholic supporters. The Duke at the same time repeated again and again his own perfect personal conviction in the thorough fidelity of the Prince to the historic and heroic Protestantism of his race. Lord Brougham spoke on this point, and very pertinently: “I may remark,” he said, “that my noble friend (Lord Melbourne) is mistaken as to the law. There is no prohibition as to marriage with a Catholic. It is only attended with a penalty, and that penaltyis merely the forfeiture of the Crown.” In spite of this, a sentence asserting the fact of the Prince’s Protestantism was,at the Duke of Wellington’s instance, inserted in the Address agreed to in answer to the Speech from the Throne.

There remained only the question of the Prince’s annuity. Ministers proposed £50,000. A very large majority negatived a proposal by Mr. Hume to reduce it to £20,000. But the Tory leaders supported a proposal of Colonel Sibthorpe’s to reduce it to £30,000, and by a considerable majority this was carried. The Queen, and her uncle Leopold, were extremely angry at the time at what they conceived to be the personal slight conveyed in this fact. But the Queen, under the wise and placable guidance of the Prince, afterwards learned to attribute it to the then heat of party rancour, still unallayed after the Bedchamber dispute; and the Prince at an early period of his residence in England contracted warm and abiding friendships with many of the men who had most strongly resisted Ministers on each of the above contested points.

On the 28th of January, Prince Albert, accompanied by Lord Torrington and Colonel (now General) Grey, who had been sent to invest him with the insignia of the Garter and conduct him in due state to England, set out from Gotha, as we have already seen at a previous page. He was also accompanied by his father and brother. After a passing visit to King Leopold at Brussels, they were met at Calais by Lord Clarence Paget, who commanded theFirebrand, and escorted the distinguished visitors to the shores of England, at which they arrived on the 6th of February. After magnificent and most hearty receptions at Dover and Canterbury, they reached Buckingham Palace in the afternoon of Saturday, the 8th of February,where the Prince found his bride standing with her mother at the door, ready to be the first to meet and to greet him. Half an hour later, the Lord Chancellor administered the oath of naturalisation, and the Prince became a subject of Queen Victoria. A grand dinner to the Prince, the Ministers, and the great officers of State succeeded in the evening. The next day the Prince drove out, amid the cheers of immense crowds, to pay formal visits to all the members of the Royal Family.

THE WEDDING.

Monday, the 10th, was the day appointed for the wedding, which was magnificently celebrated in the Chapel Royal of St. James’s Palace. On the morning of that day a larger crowd assembled in St. James’s Park and its approaches than had been collected together in the metropolis since the rejoicings at the visit of the Allied Sovereigns in 1814. Not even the extreme inclemency of the weather abated either the patience or enthusiasm of the multitude. After the ladies and gentlemen of the Households of the Queen and the Prince had been driven along the Mall from the palace of residence to the palace of state, and the carriages which conveyed them had returned, the bridegroom was notified that all was in readiness for his departure. He set out, dressed as a British field-marshal, and with all the insignia of the Garter, the jewels of which had been a personal present from the Queen, having on one side his father and on the other his brother, both in military uniforms. He entered his carriage amid tremendous cheers, and the enthusiastic waving of handkerchiefs by a bevy of ladies privileged to stand in the grand lobbies of the palace, and was escorted to the chapel by a squadron of the Life Guards. On the return of the carriages which carried the Prince and hiscompany, Her Majesty was in turn apprised that all was in readiness for her departure. She, too, was enthusiastically received, “but her eye was bent principally upon the ground.” In the same carriage with the Queen rode the Duchesses of Kent and Sutherland. It was noticed as she drove along that she was extremely pale, and looked very anxious, though two or three incidents in the crowd caused her to smile.

On her arrival at her palace of St. James’s, the Queen was conducted to the Presence Chamber, where she remained with her maids-of-honour and trainbearers, awaiting the Lord Chamberlain’s summons to the altar. Meanwhile, the colonnade within the palace, along which the bridal procession had to pass and repass, had been filled since early morn by the élite of England’s rank and beauty. Each side of the way was a parterre of white robes, white relieved with blue, white and green, amber, crimson, purple, fawn, and stone colour. All wore wedding favours of lace, orange-flower blossoms, or silver bullion, some of great size, and many in most exquisite taste. Most of the gentlemen were in court dress; and the scene during the patient hours of waiting was made picturesque by the passing to and fro in various garbs of burly yeomen of the guard, armed with their massive halberts, slight-built gentlemen-at-arms, with partisans of equal slightness; elderly pages of state, and pretty pages of honour; officers of the Lord Chamberlain, and officers of the Woods and Forests; heralds all embroidery, and cuirassiers in polished steel; prelates in their rochets, and priests in their stoles, and singing boys in their surplices of virgin white.

Within the chapel, in which the altar was magnificentlydecorated and laden with a profusion of gold plate, four state chairs were set, varying in splendour according to the rank of the destined occupants, respectively for Her Majesty, Prince Albert, the Queen Dowager, and the Duchess of Kent. The Archbishops of Canterbury and York, and the Bishop of London, having taken their places within the altar-rails, a flourish of trumpets announced the procession of the bridegroom. As the Prince passed along, the gentlemen greeted him with loud clapping of the hands, and the ladies waved their handkerchiefs with at least equal enthusiasm.

THE BRIDESMAIDS.

In a few minutes the procession of the bride was announced by trumpets and drums. It was of six or seven times the numerical strength of the bridegroom’s, and the beauty of the twelve bridesmaids, all daughters of peers of the three highest grades, was specially commended. The Duchess of Cambridge led by the hand her then child-daughter, the Princess Mary, “and the mother of so beautiful a child was certainly not to be seen without much interest.” The Duchess of Kent appeared “disconsolate and distressed;” while the Duke of Sussex, who was to give away the bride, was “in excellent spirits.” The Queen herself looked “anxious and excited, and paler even than usual.” She was dressed in a rich white satin, trimmed with orange-flower blossoms. She wore a wreath of the same, over which was a veil of rich Honiton lace, worn so as not to conceal her face. She wore as jewels the Collar of the Order of the Garter, with a diamond necklace and earrings. The bridesmaids were the Ladies Adelaide Paget, Sarah Villiers, Frances Cowper, Elizabeth West, Mary Grimston, Eleanor Paget, Caroline Lennox, Elizabeth Howard,Ida Hay, Catherine Stanhope, Jane Bouverie, and Mary Howard.

After the conclusion of the marriage rite, the Queen hastily crossed to the opposite side of the altar, and kissed the Queen Dowager, who was standing there. She then took Prince Albert’s hand, and passed down the aisle. On the return to Buckingham Palace, it was observed that the Prince, still retaining the Queen’s hand in his own, whether by accident or design, held it in such a way as to display the wedding-ring, which was more solid than is usual in ordinary weddings. When the Queen had been led into the palace by her husband, it was observed that her morning paleness had entirely passed off, and that she entered her own halls with an open, joyous, and slightly flushed countenance.

After the wedding breakfast the young couple departed, at a quarter before four, for Windsor, amid the cheers of the undiminished multitude. Her Majesty’s travelling dress was a white satin pelisse, trimmed with swansdown, with a white satin bonnet and feather. As the cortége passed rapidly up Constitution Hill, the Queen bowed in return to the cheers of her applauding subjects with much earnestness of manner. When the Queen and Prince arrived at Windsor, they found the whole town illuminated, and received a rapturous welcome from the citizens and the Eton boys, all wearing favours.

THE WEDDING-CAKE.

We shall conclude this chapter, which we shall not desecrate by devoting to any other deity than Hymen, by a brief description of the Queen’s wedding-cake, which, fortunately for our enterprise, we have succeeded in disinterring from the contemporary records. It wasdescribed by an eye-witness as consisting of all the most exquisite compounds of all the rich things with which the most expensive cakes can be composed, mingled and mixed together with delightful harmony by the most elaborate science of the confectioner. It weighed 300 pounds, was three yards in circumference, and fourteen inches in depth. On the top was a device of Britannia blessing the bride and bridegroom, who were dressed, somewhat incongruously, in the costume of ancient Rome. At the foot of the bridegroom was the figure of a dog, intended to denote fidelity; at the feet of the Queen a pair of turtle-doves. A host of gamboling Cupids, one of them registering the marriage in a book, and bouquets of white flowers tied with true-lovers’ knots, completed the decorations.

EARLY YEARS OF MARRIED LIFE.

Difficulties and Delicacy of Prince Albert’s Position—Early Married Life—Studies continued—Attempts on the Queen’s Life—Courage of the Queen—Birth of the Princess Royal—Parting from the Whig Ladies of the Bedchamber—Dark Days for England—Birth of the Prince of Wales—The Queen described by M. Guizot—A Dinner at Buckingham Palace—State Dinner at Windsor.

The Queen was now married to the husband of her choice. “It is that,” said Lord Melbourne to her, “which makes your Majesty’s marriage so popular, as they know it is not for state reasons.” A few months after the wedding-day, the Prince wrote to an old college associate—“I am very happy and contented.” After the wedding, the young couple stayed for four days at Windsor, reading, riding, walking together, and giving small dinner parties in the evening. They then returned to Buckingham Palace, where a large crowd had collected to welcome them, and fairly commenced the common duties of their married life. At first it would appear that jealousies, in quarters which need not be specified, prevented the Prince taking his proper position as the head of his home and household. He wrote to his friend, Prince Löwenstein, in May, 1840—“I am only the husband, not the master in the house.” But the common sense of the Queen, and the dignity of the Prince, soon set this matter to rights. When urgedthat she, as being Sovereign, must be the head of the house, she quietly rejoined that she had sworn to obey, as well as love and honour, her husband, and that she was determined to keep all her bridal troth. She communicated all foreign despatches to him, and frequently he made annotations on them, which were communicated to the Minister whose department they affected. He had often the satisfaction of discovering that the Minister, though he might say nothing on the subject, nevertheless acted upon his suggestions. His correspondence to Germany soon bore a very different tone and complexion. To use his own words, and slightly expand them, he “endeavoured to be of as much use to Victoria as possible.” The Queen now, having received the approval of the Duke of Wellington, whom she consulted as a confidential friend, for the first time put her husband in his proper place, by giving him, by Royal Letters Patent, to which Parliamentary sanction is not required, rank and precedence next to herself, except in Parliament and the Privy Council.

EARLY MARRIED DAYS.

Frequent levées, and “dinners followed by little dances,” formed the chief amusements of the young couple in the earliest stage of their married life. They went much, too, to the play, both having an especial relish for and admiration of Shakespeare. The Queen, although now a married woman, by no means neglected useful or solacing and refining studies. She took singing lessons from Lablache, and frequently sang and played with the Prince, sometimes using the piano, sometimes the organ as accompaniment. They went to Claremont, the Queen’s favourite youthful haunt, to celebrate her birthday, and continued to do so, even after the purchaseof Osborne, until 1848, when Claremont was given as a residence to the ex-Queen of the French. Both Queen and Prince were extremely glad to get away from the smoke and grime of London. In fact, these constituted a peculiar source of physical oppression to both; and they were always glad to retire to the rural quiet and seclusion of Claremont.

THE QUEEN SHOT AT.

The first alarming incident of the Queen’s wedded life occurred on the 10th of June, 1840. In her first early days of maiden queenhood, she had been annoyed by madmen wanting to marry her. On more than one occasion her saddle-horse was attempted to be stopped in the Park by one of such maniacs, as she was attended by an equerry; and in two instances similar attempts were made by innocent lunatics to force their way into Windsor Castle, in each case armed with nothing more deadly than a proposal of marriage. But what we are about to narrate was a much more serious matter. There is no denying the fact, that, after the first two years of her reign, the Queen was, for a time, by no means so popular as she had been. Her ministers were eminently unpopular, and to no slight extent she shared their unpopularity. Appalling distress prevailed, and Chartism and other more dangerous forms of sedition were rife. The poor asked how so much money could be spent on the Queen’s hospitable entertainments, while they were starving; and inquired how it was that the name of Lord Melbourne, who should be supposed to have work enough to do looking after the affairs of the distressed nation, should appear in the newspapers almost every day as attending some of Her Majesty’s banquets. Occasionally during the summer she was received in publicin silence, and once or twice, in theatres and elsewhere, disagreeable cries were heard. More than once during this and one or two succeeding years, pistol-shots were fired at her. We select one, and the first attack upon her, as a type of the others. A youth named Oxford, some seventeen or eighteen years of age, either a fool or a madman, fired two pistol-shots at her, as she and her husband were driving in a phaeton up Constitution Hill. He was at once arrested, and it being impossible to assign any conceivable cause for the act, he was declared insane, and doomed to incarceration for life. Neither the Queen nor the Prince were injured, and both showed the utmost self-possession.

Perhaps the best proof of her bravery on the occasion of this outrage, as it was an unquestionable proof of her tenderness of heart, was the fact that within a minute or two after the shot of Oxford had been fired, she had the horses’ heads turned towards her mother’s house, that her mother should see her sound and uninjured, ere an exaggerated or indiscreetly communicated report of the occurrence could reach her. Immediately after, she drove to Hyde Park, whither she had been proceeding before the outrage occurred, to take her usual drive before dinner. An immense concourse of persons of all ranks and both sexes had assembled, and the enthusiasm of her reception almost overpowered her. Prince Albert’s face, alternately pale and flushed, betrayed the strength of his emotions. They returned to Buckingham Palace attended by a most magnificent escort of the rank and beauty of London, on horseback and in carriages. A great crowd of a humbler sort was at the Palace gates to greet her, and it was said that she did not lose her composureuntil a flood of tears relieved her pent-up excitement in her own chamber. “God save the Queen” was demanded at all the theatres in the evening, and in the immediately succeeding days the Queen received, seated on her throne, loyal and congratulatory addresses from the Peers in their robes, and wearing all their decorations; from the Commons, from the City Corporation, and many other public bodies.

Oxford was incarcerated in Bethlehem Hospital, one of the great metropolitan lunatic asylums, in which he remained many years, and of which he was made one of the chief “sights” by its visitors. Perhaps it was this circumstance that induced the authorities to order his removal to Broadmoor, the state prison in which persons charged with felonious crimes, whose lunacy has been established, have within recent years been confined. There he remained until the commencement of the winter months of 1867. During all the weary period which intervened between the perpetration of his offence and that date his conduct was exemplary, and no evidence of mental aberration appeared. At various times appeals were made in his behalf by influential persons who had the opportunity of watching his demeanour and judging his character. His own representation from first to last ever was that the pistol which he fired was not loaded. He attributed the act which so nearly cost him his life and which wasted the best years of his existence, to inordinate vanity, fostered by a variety of trivial circumstances in his domestic life, on which it is not necessary to dwell, and which led to a senseless desire—similar to that which has perpetuated the name of Erostratus, the incendiary who fired the Temple of Diana at Ephesus—togain notoriety by whatever means. To a certain extent he educated himself during his confinement, and became a tolerable linguist. He also taught himself that branch of the house-painter’s trade termed “graining,” sufficiently well to enable him to earn a decent livelihood. At last, late in 1867, he received a free pardon and release, subject only to the very proper provision that he should expatriate himself and never return to British shores. The same mania, or silly senselessness, might break out again, and it is manifestly right that the person of the Sovereign should be protected from the vanity of a man who, at however distant a period, could commit the cowardly outrage of which he was the author.

When, a year or two later, the Queen was again providentially saved from similar felonious attempts, their character being of the same nature as that of Oxford’s, a strong feeling animated the general public mind that some special deterrent should be devised to prevent or reduce the likelihood of such maniacal or quasi-maniacal deeds. An Act of Parliament was accordingly passed, ere the close of the Session of 1843, by which severe flogging was imposed as part punishment in all such cases. It had the desired effect. From the period of its enactment until now, attempts to take the Queen’s life, and minor assaults upon her person, have been almost entirely unknown.

BIRTH OF THE PRINCESS ROYAL.

On the afternoon of the 21st of November, the country was gladdened by the birth of the Queen’s first-born, the Princess Royal, now Crown Princess of Prussia. The event occurred considerably before the period anticipated by the Queen’s medical and other attendants, and preparations had to be made in a hurry.Nevertheless, the Queen soon regained her accustomed health, and so rapidly that we find it recorded that on the day before that appointed for the christening, she and a lady of the Court, exercising their strength and preserving their presence of mind, rescued the Prince from a most perilous if not fatal position. He had been skating, accompanied only by the Queen and one Lady-in-waiting, and had fallen through the ice in such a position that he could not possibly have extricated himself.

Two days after the Princess was born, Mr. Selwyn, a gentleman with whom Prince Albert was reading English law and constitutional history, came to give his pupil his accustomed lesson. The Prince said to him, “I fear I cannot read any law to-day, there are so many constantly coming to congratulate; but you will like to see the little Princess.” He took his tutor into the nursery, as he found that the child was asleep. Taking her hand, he said, “The next time we read, it must be on the rights and duties of a Princess Royal.”

In 1841 Lord Melbourne was no longer Prime Minister. Sir Robert Peel, who had gained the largest Parliamentary majority which had been known for many years, reigned in his stead. The Queen made no difficulty about the Ladies of the Household now. Her tastes and feelings were consulted with great delicacy and consideration by the Premier, and the selection of the Duchess of Buccleuch in the first instance as Mistress of the Robes, which post may be termed the female Premiership of the Household, was especially gratifying to Her Majesty. But her heart was, nevertheless, loth to part with the constant female companions of the first fouryears of her reign. Thursday, September the 2nd, was the last evening she spent with them. At the dinner-table she could scarcely trust herself to speak, and she is reported to have shed bitter tears when she retired with her ladies. Everybody pitied the young Sovereign, and saw and felt the hardship involved. But it was an inevitable accompaniment of her high position.

BIRTH OF THE PRINCE OF WALES.

The heir to the throne adorned by Queen Victoria was born in the midst of one of the very darkest periods of English history. In 1841 the condition of the people had been declining from the beginning of the year. Operatives were on half time—at last they had no work at all—and the few who had had the means or the will to be provident, were living on their savings. Public meetings were being held to consider what was to be done, and public subscriptions were opened. Then the idle hands commenced to meet in large numbers, with a sullen look of despair, waiting for death or alms—a comparatively small number being employed at the expense of municipal and other recognised bodies, in road making or road mending. Crime, which follows pauperism as surely and almost as rapidly as the obscene vulture pounces upon the carrion which is not yet cold, was rife; murders came in multitudes, poisonings by wholesale; murders by trades unionists, murders by thieves. It was when this dark cloud lowered over England—a cloud never completely dispelled until the rise of the great and glorious Free Trade sun, five years later—that the Prince of Wales first breathed. ALondon Gazetteextraordinary, which appeared on Tuesday evening, November the 9th, ran as follows:—

Buckingham Palace, Nov. 9th.This morning, at twelve minutes before eleven o’clock, the Queen was happily delivered of a Prince, His Royal Highness Prince Albert, Her Royal Highness the Duchess of Kent, several Lords of Her Majesty’s Most Honourable Privy Council, and the Ladies of Her Majesty’s Bedchamber, being present.This great and important news was immediately made known to the town by the firing of the Tower and Park guns; and the Privy Council being assembled as soon as possible thereupon, at the Council Chamber, Whitehall, it was ordered that a Form of Thanksgiving be prepared by His Grace the Archbishop of Canterbury, to be used in all churches and chapels throughout England and Wales and the town of Berwick-upon-Tweed, on Sunday, the 14th of November, or the Sunday after the respective ministers shall receive the same.Her Majesty and the infant Prince are, God be praised, both doing well.

Buckingham Palace, Nov. 9th.

This morning, at twelve minutes before eleven o’clock, the Queen was happily delivered of a Prince, His Royal Highness Prince Albert, Her Royal Highness the Duchess of Kent, several Lords of Her Majesty’s Most Honourable Privy Council, and the Ladies of Her Majesty’s Bedchamber, being present.

This great and important news was immediately made known to the town by the firing of the Tower and Park guns; and the Privy Council being assembled as soon as possible thereupon, at the Council Chamber, Whitehall, it was ordered that a Form of Thanksgiving be prepared by His Grace the Archbishop of Canterbury, to be used in all churches and chapels throughout England and Wales and the town of Berwick-upon-Tweed, on Sunday, the 14th of November, or the Sunday after the respective ministers shall receive the same.

Her Majesty and the infant Prince are, God be praised, both doing well.

The joy of the nation at the succession to the crown in the progeny of the Queen and Prince Albert being thus secured, was excessive. Upon the announcement of the happy accouchement, the nobility and gentry crowded to the Palace to tender their dutiful inquiries as to the Sovereign’s convalescence. Amongst others, came the Lord Mayor and civic dignitaries in great state. They felt peculiarly proud that the Prince should have been born on Lord Mayor’s day; in fact, just at the very moment when the time-honoured procession was starting from the City for Westminster. In memory of the happy coincidence, the Lord Mayor of the year, Mr. Pirie, was created Sir John Pirie, Baronet. On the 4th of December, the Queen created her son by Letters Patent, Prince of Wales and Earl of Chester:—“And him, our said and most dear son, the Prince of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, as has been accustomed, we do ennoble and invest with the said Principality and Earldom, by girding him with a sword,by putting a coronet on his head, and a gold ring on his finger, and also by delivering a gold rod into his hand, that he may preside there, and direct and defend those parts.” By the fact of his birth as Heir-Apparent, the Prince indefeasibly inherited, without the necessity of patent or creation, these dignities—the titles of Duke of Saxony, by right of his father; and, by right of his mother, Duke of Cornwall, Duke of Rothsay, Earl of Carrick, Baron of Renfrew, Lord of the Isles, and Great Steward of Scotland.

AN EMBASSY FROM FRANCE.

In the early spring of 1840, the distinguished French statesman, M. Guizot, came over to England, being sent hither by the French Premier, Marshal Soult, on a special mission with reference to those complications in the East, which culminated the following year in that war between the Sultan Mahmoud and his vassal Mehemet Ali, in which British tars under Stopford and “Charley Napier” played so conspicuous a part. His pacific mission was a failure, and from its failure dates, first the loosening, and then the severance, of the close relations which subsisted for eleven years after 1830 between the Courts of St. James’s and the Tuileries.

King Louis Philippe had conveyed to M. Guizot his desire that he should take the first opportunity of recalling to the Queen the intimacy which he had maintained with her father, the Duke of Kent; and Guizot resolved to remind Her Majesty of the circumstance when he was received by her on presenting his letters of credence. He prudently, however, asked Lord Palmerston, on whom, as Foreign Secretary, devolved the duty of presenting him, whether such a communication would be agreeable. Lord Palmerston instantlyreplied in the negative. He stated that the reception would be a purely official formality, and gave him to understand that the Queen would much prefer not having to reply to any speech. He therefore determined to abstain from making one. On the last day of February, he received a note at ten minutes past one from Lord Palmerston, stating that the Queen would be glad to receive him that day at one o’clock. Guizot immediately sent to Palmerston “to explain the delay, and his own innocence.” He then dressed with all speed, and reached Buckingham Palace a little before two. Precisely at the moment of his arrival, Lord Palmerston’s carriage also drove up. He told Guizot that the Queen’s orders had been forwarded to him (Palmerston) too late. Luckily, the Queen had other audiences to give, which occupied her fully until the appearance of the two astute and rival diplomats. But another difficulty arose. There was no Master of Ceremonies at hand to introduce him. Sir Robert Chester, who held that post, had received his summons, as tardily as that which had been sent to Lord Palmerston. That gentleman had not hastened his movements so rapidly as the active Frenchman. Although a breach of form, Lord Palmerston, therefore, undertook and performed the office of Sir Robert. The Queen received Guizot “with a gracious manner at once youthful and serious.” He remarked that the dignity of her manner caused one to forget the smallness of her stature. On entering, he said, “I trust, Madam, that your Majesty is aware of my excuse, for of myself [that is, if the blame of unpunctuality rested with me] I should be inexcusable.” She smiled in return, as if little surprised at, and quite used to, the want of punctuality. After all,in spite of Lord Palmerston’s instructions to him, the Queen did grant him, in the strict and literal sense of the term, an audience. Though short, it was long enough to enable the Queen to chat with him, and inquire about his Sovereign, his consort, and their family. The Queen, of course, was warmly interested about the Orleans family, for one of the daughters of its head was the second wife of her uncle, King Leopold, and, therefore, her matrimonial aunt. So that Guizotdidfind and embrace the opportunity of reminding the Queen of the intimacy between his royal master and her father.

M. GUIZOT AT BUCKINGHAM PALACE.

As he was retiring, Lord Palmerston, who remained a moment or two with the Queen, after she had bid M. Guizot adieu, said hastily to him, “There is something more; I am going to introduce you to Prince Albert and the Duchess of Kent; you could not otherwise be presented to them, except at the next levée, on the 6th of March, but it is necessary, on the contrary, that on that day you should be already old friends.” These further presentations were, accordingly, made; Guizot being struck with the political intelligence which the conversation of the Prince, in spite of his constitutional reserve, displayed. Guizot left the palace greatly pleased with his reception. As he passed through the hall, he saw the Master of Ceremonies in hot haste descending from his carriage, and “anxious to apologise to him, with temper somewhat ruffled, for his involuntary uselessness.”

An invitation to dinner at Buckingham Palace for five days after quickly reached him at his residence, Hertford House. He remarked on the want of animation and interest in the conversation, whether at the dinner-table or in the drawing-room. Politics of any kind, home orforeign, were, apparently to his surprise, strictly avoided. When the gentlemen joined the ladies, which, throughout the Queen’s reign, has been at a very short interval after the departure of the latter from the dining-room, they all sat on chairs round a circular table set before the Queen, who occupied a sofa. Two or three of her ladies engaged themselves in fancy work; Prince Albert challenged some one to a game at chess. Lady Palmerston and M. Guizot, “with some effort,” carried on a flagging dialogue. The conversation being thus flat, M. Guizot took to looking at the pictures on the walls, of which there were but three, hung over the different doors of the apartment. He was very much astonished at the extraordinary contrasts in the subjects of these pictures. They certainly were most incongruous. One was Fénélon, the second the Czar Peter, and the third Anne Hyde, the discarded wife of James II. He asked one of his fellow-guests whether the combination was intentional or an accident? But he could get no satisfaction on the subject. No one had remarked the combination, and no one could tell the reason for it.

At the levée which he attended the day following, he was still more astounded and perplexed. He thought its presentations and other paraphernalia “a long and monotonous ceremony.” Yet it inspired this keen and philosophic student of men and manners with “real interest.” We shall allow M. Guizot, ere we finally leave his companionship, to express his views on this peculiarly English institution in his own words:—“I regarded with excited esteem the profound respect of that vast assembly—courtiers, citizens, lawyers, churchmen, officers, military and naval, passing before the Queen, the greater portionbending the knee to kiss her hand, all perfectly solemn, sincere, and awkward. The sincerity and seriousness were both needed to prevent those antiquated habits, wigs, and bags, those costumes which no one in England now wears except on such occasions, from appearing somewhat ridiculous. But I am little sensible to the outward appearance of absurdity when the substance partakes not of that character.”

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