they to her. They knew just where everything
was, what colors became her, and what gossip and games
amused her. Doubtless she loved them, and doubtless
also she loved her own way. Surely the right
of her constitutional advisers to dictate to her must
have a limit somewhere, and she drew the line at her
bed-chamber door. Then, as Sir Robert would not
yield the point, she recalled Melbourne and went on
as before. The affair created immense excitement.
Non-political people were amused at the little Queen’s
spirit of independence. Liberals applauded her
patriotism and pluck in defeating the “wicked
Bed-Chamber Plot,” and for her loyalty to her
friends; but the defeated Tories were very naturally
incensed, and, manlike, paid Her Majesty back, when
measures which she had much at heart came before Parliament
a year or so later—as we shall see.
Many years later the Queen appears to have thought
that she was beginning to drift on to rocks of serious
political mistakes and misfortunes as well as into
rapids of frivolity, when the good, wise Pilot came
to take the helm of her life-craft.
This pilot was, of course, the “Prince Charming,”
selected and reared for her away in Saxe-Coburg—that
handsome Cousin Albert, once in a letter to the good
uncle Leopold tacitly accepted by her in girlish thoughtlessness,
as she would have accepted a partner in a joyous country-dance,
and afterwards nearly as thoughtlessly thrown over
and himself sent adrift.
Prince Albert.
If the Princess Charlotte was the prototype of her
cousin Victoria, Prince Leopold was in some respects
the prototype of his beloved nephew Albert, who was
born in August, 1819, at Rosenau, a charming summer
residence of his father, the reigning Duke of Saxe-Coburg-Saalfield.
The little Prince’s grandmother, the Dowager-Duchess
of Saxe-Coburg, in writing to her daughter, the Duchess
of Kent, to announce the happy event, says: “The
little boy is to be christened to-morrow, and to have
the name of Albert.”
When the christening came off it appeared that “Albert”
was only one and the simplest of several names, but
he was always known and always will be known by that
name. It has been immortalized by his upright
character, his rare intellectual gifts, his goodness
and grace; by the affection of his countrymen and
his noble life-work in England; by the genius of England’s
greatest living poet, and by the love and sorrow of
England’s Queen.
While the Prince was yet a baby, his mother wrote
of him: “Albert is superb,—remarkably
beautiful, with large blue eyes, a delicate mouth,
a fine nose, and dimpled cheeks. He is lively
and always gay.”
Albert was the second son of the Duke and Duchess.
Ernest, a year or two older, is thus described by
his mother: “Ernest is very strong and
robust, but not half so pretty as his brother.
He is handsome, though; with black eyes.”
