FAMILY JARS

“A more effete, ungracious, uncivilized creature than this yellow-faced Persian could not be imagined, but English society, while he was in London, prostrated itself before him and his ugly jewels as if he were some demi-god fresh from Olympus ... a man without recommendation except that he is called by his slaves and courtiers, and by himself, the King of kings and the Lord of lords.”--_Lord Ronald Gower: ‘Reminiscences.’_

“Marie of Edinburgh made a fuss And summoned to her aid her royal dad, Because a princess who’s most dear to us Declined to listen to her foolish fad, Or questions of precedence to discuss. But if it’s true then Marie must take care, Lest she be called the little Russian Bear.” _The Hornet._

During these years of royal domestic and semidomestic happenings her Majesty’s Government had also been busy. The Ballot Act was passed, also the Irish Land Act of 1870, and the matter before the country early in 1873 was the Irish University Bill. On this Gladstone was defeated by three and promptly tendered his resignation, which the Queen just as promptly and much more delightedly accepted. Gladstone had bored her to death by wanting her to understand the intricacies of his bills, and one day she had handed over his explanation of the Irish Bill to Theodore Martin with the request that he would reduce it all to a few lines!

So as Disraeli had done his utmost to overthrow the Government, bringing members from the far ends of the country--and even further, she sent for him as confidently as she said good-bye to Gladstone, and--he declined to serve her! “He could not undertake to carry on her Majesty’s Government in the present House of Commons,” and “he would not advise her Majesty to recommend a dissolution.”

Such a reply, unparliamentary and unprecedented, seemed like that of a mischievous boy who, having created havoc, refused to do his share in putting things straight; but in reality it was his way, not exactly well principled, of carrying out his own policy. He knew that he could not use his little majority, and he wanted to turn it into a large one. So while Gladstone had to go back to work, and the Queen endured it with distress, Disraeli stumped the country discrediting the Government, accusing the Ministry of every wickedness, and explaining that they “sat in a row on the Treasury benches,” reminding him “of a range of extinct volcanoes.”

Early in August Gladstone went to Osborne to see the Queen, and late in August he went to Balmoral to stay a few days, during which Victoria displayed perfect good-humour and interest in his family, saying to Lord Granville “that she had never known Gladstone so remarkably agreeable.”

She had special reason for wanting the help of a minister sympathetic to her interests, and Gladstone had ever done his best for her in money matters, the trouble being that the Prince of Wales was overwhelmed with debt, £600,000 being the rumoured sum, and either she would have to pay it or the country must do so. She had looked backwards into history for a precedent, and had found that the debts of George IV when Prince had been paid by the nation, and she trusted that the same thing would happen again. Thus Gladstone was asked to pass a Bill to liquidate the Prince’s liabilities. He, with his finger on the pulse of the nation, dared not, for her own sake, accede. He made a suggestion, however, which might have been carried into effect had it not been for the strong opposition of Sir Charles Dilke. The suggestion was that Victoria should transfer to Albert Edward some real estate, which would naturally go to him at her death; and to circumvent the law that this property would become national property and therefore inalienable if the heir received it before his accession, Gladstone proposed a Bill guaranteeing its remaining personal property. With Dilke tabulating the immense royal personal possessions, bought perhaps with Civil List money, it proved impossible that such a Bill could be allowed to slip through.

The only plan left was that the Queen should pay these debts herself, and it was with some justice asked, why not? The Prince had been doing her work on little more than a fourth of the sum especially allowed to her Majesty for the purpose, and though it is more than probable that a large proportion of the debts had been contracted in ways that had no relation to State concerns, yet it must be remembered that the Prince had been deliberately shut out from any intellectual share in the country’s affairs, and was so much the more likely to find amusement by easy and extravagant means.

The Queen could not see that she was responsible, so, disappointed and angry at Gladstone’s failure, she eagerly awaited a change of Government, but--though I do not know the sequel--she probably paid the debts, for Abergeldie, a property owned by the Prince in Scotland near Balmoral, passed into her hands. It may be that Gladstone tried to salve her disappointment by bringing in the Crown Private Estates Act, for such a one was passed this year, by which the Queen was given the power to invest savings like a private person, a course hitherto against the law, as it was thought undesirable that the monarch should be independent of Parliament.

In later years Victoria rebuked Gladstone strongly for making speeches in other places than his own constituency, but it did not trouble her in 1873 that Disraeli, the leader of the Opposition, broke political rules by holding public meetings over the country; it was but a means to a good end, and her desires were fulfilled in February 1874 when the Ministry went to the country and were hopelessly beaten.

So once more Disraeli stepped under the halo of his ambition! He had conquered the country, and now he set himself to conquer the Queen. Two years earlier Lady Beaconsfield had died, and Lord Ronald Gower tells how at Hughenden Disraeli spoke very despondingly of her during her illness--

“‘She suffers,’ he groaned, ‘so dreadfully at times. We have been married thirty-three years, and she has never given me a dull moment.’ It was quite touching to see his distress. His face, generally so emotionless, was filled with a look of suffering and woe that nothing but the sorrow of her he so truly loved could cause on that impassive countenance.”

When Lady Beaconsfield died her husband refused all state and honour for her, and turned his back upon the frightful English usage in the matter of funerals. At 1.30 the coffin was removed from the saloon of Hughenden Manor to a low bier, covered with a black velvet pall and carried across the grounds by the cottage tenants of the estate to the church.

This sorrow drew the Queen closer to the politician, and their friendship strengthened during the next few years. Disraeli had no illusions about her Majesty’s powers. He wasted no time in showing her both sides of a question and inviting her to think for herself. “Gladstone,” he said, “treated the Queen like a public department; I treat her like a woman.”

In politics he was quite ready to keep the people quiet with small concessions, or even to allow them some big measure of domestic reform, provided he could also carry on his schemes of enlargement and work to secure a brilliant all-world glory for himself. Thus with him the Queen felt safe both at home and abroad; she revelled in the “strong Conservative Government,” and in the idea that it proved England to be inimical to Radicalism.

Disraeli’s first step towards the full winning of Victoria’s heart was to bring in the Public Worship Regulation Act, aimed against Ritualism. This delighted her with her abhorrence of High Church, and that Gladstone agreed with that form of worship may have added somewhat to her pleasure. The Bill passed, and almost straightway became a dead letter. It is somewhat amusing that Sir Sidney Lee reports the Queen as being extremely disgusted with Gladstone for opposing the next measure, the Scotch Church Patronage Bill, for she herself had opposed resolutely, thirty years earlier, a scheme of the sort when initiated by the Free Kirkers. Now, as Philip Clayden said, “it had become a reactionary measure by being brought into the world a generation behind its time,” and could have been of as little benefit as the Bill against High Church. Of Gladstone’s speech in the House against it, Victoria said petulantly, “He could so easily have stayed away!” Surely it was evil of Gladstone in the Opposition to oppose the leader of the Government!

Though Victoria had not made many concessions to the public desire to see her, there had been a few in the occasional holding of a Court or a drawing-room, and an equally occasional one or two nights at the Palace. In 1873 she had also entertained the Shah of Persia at Buckingham Palace in solitary grandeur and at Windsor in royal style.

The people who had heard that he was bringing £5,000,000 with him, and had also heard of his harem, his jewels and his primitive ways, thronged the streets, swarmed over the houses, and shouted themselves hoarse when he drove by, and then amused themselves with laughter and songs about, “Have you seen the Shah, Smoking a cigar,” etc. The great people took their cue from the Queen, but they had to endure insults which she did not hear. That the Shah thought them compliments did not make them sweeter. He did not admire the English ladies, who were too thin, and it is told that when he saw a picture of the Fat Woman in a show, he said she was the most beautiful woman he had seen in all his journeys, and wanted to buy her. The public said--with how much truth I do not know--that when he had chosen the woman he thought most beautiful, or rather passable, in any assembly, he showed his approbation by spitting on her gown; until the knowledge had to be gently conveyed that the English did not do these things.

Men-of-war met him at sea, Princes Arthur and Alfred met him at Dover and the Prince of Wales escorted him from Charing Cross to Buckingham Palace. When he went to Windsor, which he did three times, Leopold, “who does not go anywhere away from the Queen,” as the Shah wrote in his diary, was always on the platform. The day of his arrival, being angry with his Greek secretary, he ordered him to be executed, and it was in vain that his Grand Vizier and Sir Henry Rawlinson protested. He was implacable, until at last he was told that the offender was safely killed and buried in the palace garden. The man was secretly sent to Paris to await the return of his master there, and one wonders if he eventually got off with his life.

The Shah was invited to the houses of great noblemen, and on seeing Trentham Castle, the Duke of Sutherland’s place, he turned to the Prince of Wales, asking if, when he came to the throne, he would not have the Duke beheaded. To which the Prince replied that there were so many great and rich nobles in England that he could not undertake such a clearance. He was also privileged to see the mausoleum at Frogmore, upon which he wrote that he shed tears and felt very sad.

One of the amusing incidents of his stay--included in the _Personal Recollections_ of C. K. Tuckerman, an American--took place at Chiswick Gardens, a house which the Prince of Wales then rented from the Duke of Devonshire, and where the Queen went to meet him. For its comedy of state etiquette during Victorian times, it is as delicately ironic as the incident of Miss Matty’s new carpet in _Cranford_. There were present every member of the royal family, also the Russian Tsarevitch and his consort, whose visit to the heir apparent was quite overshadowed by the potentate.

“In the middle of the lawn, in front of the garden walks, two large canvas marquees or pavilions had been erected, facing each other at the distance of a few yards, between which extended a broad strip of crimson carpet. Over one of the pavilions floated the banner of England, and over the other the rising sun and royal arms of Persia. It looked like a scene upon the stage, and the performance that followed heightened the theatrical effect. Perhaps if I present the spectacle in a dramatic way it will be more vivid to the reader.

“SCENE I.--The Queen arrives upon the grounds, with her usual punctuality, accompanied by her suite. Taking the arm of the Prince of Wales, her Majesty passes down the line of guests, graciously acknowledging their silent greetings, and, proceeding to her pavilion, disappears therein. A long pause ensues, owing to the tardy arrival of the Shah, who, with Oriental moderation, seems in no haste to put in an appearance. Meanwhile the spectators keep their eyes fixed on the canvas that conceals their Sovereign, as if, like the palaces of Aladdin, it may vanish into air should their attention be for an instant diverted from it.

“SCENE II.--Arrival of his Majesty of Persia and suite, the latter consisting of half a dozen royal highnesses and as many excellencies. He, in turn, takes the arm of the Prince of Wales, and is conducted to his own pavilion, into which he disappears.

“SCENE III.--Reappearance of the Shah at the opening of his pavilion, from whence he walks with measured steps down the crimson carpet, and, entering the Queen’s marquee, disappears from view.

“SCENE IV.--Reappearance of his Majesty, who retraces his steps, and again disappears beneath the royal canvas.

“SCENE V.--Reappearance of the Queen at the opening of her pavilion, who proceeds to return the royal visit, and disappears from view.

“SCENE VI.--Her Majesty emerges from the Shah’s pavilion, and, retracing her steps to her own, disappears from view.

“SCENE VII.--Simultaneous reappearance of the two sovereigns at the openings of their respective marquees, whence they advance towards each other with mathematical precision until they meet in the exact middle of the strip of crimson. Here, for a moment, the Shah seems at a loss to know what next is expected from him, and stands like an awkward actor who has forgotten his part; but her Majesty sets him right by gracefully taking his arm and walking away with her illustrious visitor, until lost to view down the long avenue of ancestral trees.”

Which of the two most enjoyed this punctiliousness, the Queen or the Shah, and did it satisfy a social need or was it engaged in for the pleasure of the assembled multitude?

When the Shah left our shores he noted in his diary, “It was evident that the people of England were all sorry and grieved in their hearts at our departure.”

The visit of the Tsarevitch was not without meaning, and had been prefaced by the diplomatic but secret mission to Victoria of Count Schouvaloff earlier in the year. To both she was very amiable, for the suggestion was a marriage between the Grand Duchess Marie and Prince Alfred, Duke of Edinburgh. When it was announced every one seemed pleased, excepting Mr. Peter Taylor and eighteen members of Parliament, who voted against the second reading of the Bill for allowing Alfred an additional £10,000 a year. When this was carried in July, Gladstone laid stress on the Tsar’s promise to allow his daughter £6000 yearly and a pension of £30,000; but the report went that she would receive £20,000 as an annuity and a dowry of £200,000, which was certainly more likely. A complaint was made that the Bill had been introduced very late in the session, and Gladstone, usually a very truthful man, excused this by saying that it was a case of deep love on both sides, and lapsing into poetry, continued--

“Does my honourable friend think that the sentiments of love can be restrained?

‘Love, free as air, at sight of human ties Spreads his light wings and in a moment flies.’

These things are not under my control with regard to royal persons or any one else. I cannot fix the time at which the invader should be allowed to occupy their hearts, and to bring to an issue these great questions.”

The people, who had been solemnly assured that the union was in no way prompted by policy, were pleased with it, for they saw that it might prove a safeguard against quarrels with Russia. They were tired of the constant scares about that country, as well as doubtful of the British policy of making a pet of the Turk. They were also glad that a rich bride had been chosen rather than some unknown German.

The marriage took place in January 1874, and when the bride and bridegroom came home to London on a cold, snowy March day, Queen Victoria did honour where honour was expected, and went to meet her new daughter-in-law, driving with her through the streets. “How she and the Princess did shake their heads incessantly right and left, as if they had indiarubber necks, and that for miles!” commented one whose name I have lost.

A weekly paper, _The Hornet_, much in vogue just then, hailed Marie as a Russian fairy, saying, “She has burst upon the Court like golden sunshine in a fusty, dusty room,” and further declared that Victoria could not resist her, and allowed her to dance at will into her private rooms without announcement. Under this influence, “we hope to see the Queen out of mourning, heading a country dance on the lawn of Buckingham Palace with some gay gallant like Dizzy.”

This may give some readers a shock, but they must remember that the widowed Queen had already in the Highlands danced with a much less courtier-like person.

Speculation was rife about the Russian bride, for it was thought that she would not comprehend or agree to “the German ceremonial too long observed by the royal family,” that she would have nothing to do with that saving system which the people insisted--in spite of all denial--was the Germanic attribute of their liege lady, the Queen.

The sad thing for the Princess was that she had married the most careful and saving member of the Queen’s family, and one who, wanting the kindliness and graciousness of his elder brother, was distinctly unpopular, also that he _had_ an elder brother. Albert Edward, in spite of his sins, was a favourite with the public, while it would have been a rash person who spoke evil of Alexandra. The Schleswig-Holstein question, her beauty, and later her kindliness and her cheerful shouldering of the work of an uncrowned queen, had made such an impression upon the vulnerable heart of John Bull that he went so far as to say that she retained for the royal family “the personal popularity which it had lost through the nun-like retirement of Queen Victoria.”

It was a matter of public remark that at this time there were two Courts, the holiday seeking Court of the Queen and the social Court of the Prince of Wales, also that the Queen and Prince scarcely ever appeared anywhere together, and the one did not know the plans of the other. Thus on a memorable day when the Queen emerged into the view of her people, by going to open Victoria Park in the East End, the Prince was to have been installed Grand Master of the United Order of Knights Templars and St. John, at Willis’s Rooms. To avoid the gossip which might have been produced by the two reports appearing in the same morning’s paper, the Prince asked postponement of his ceremony for a week, and went to stay with Lord Carrington.

Princess Marie Alexandrovna did not understand the intricacies of English Court and social life. She, being an Imperial Highness, felt that she had done some condescension in marrying into the family of a mere queen, and she was certain that her rank would ensure her a place second only to the Queen herself. That Alexandra, the daughter of the king of tiny Denmark, should dream of taking precedence soon became a very sore point. So she constantly tried to upset that delicate system which aims at reducing social rank to definite law, but she might just as well have demanded the obeisance of the sun and moon. Partly realizing her failure, she haughtily declared that she would not go to Court at all, and sulkily retired after calling upon her father for help.

_The Times_ announced with dignity that as the Princess was _enceinte_ she had retired from society. The Tsar, however, promptly came to succour his neglected daughter, and stayed a week, Marie being constantly by his side. At a state ball held by the Prince of Wales at Buckingham Palace in his honour, the two were inseparable all the evening, and seemed equally amused when the younger members of the royal family, led by the Marquis of Lorne in Highland costume, bare-kneed and debonair, danced a Scotch reel. There is no doubt that the Tsar did his best to adjust the grievance, and after his departure his daughter’s name was published in the Court Circular next to that of the Princess of Wales, as Her Royal and Imperial Highness the Duchess of Edinburgh and Grand Duchess of Russia! But Marie did not take with kindly heart to the knowledge that as wife of a younger son she could not stand first, and the people, knowing this, never again saw her in the glamour which had surrounded her coming.

There was another person who might, with justice, have asked a nobler place in the Court circle, and that was the Marquis of Lorne, to whom was given no official recognition, and who, though thought fit to marry an English princess, was not thought fit to sit next her at table, or with her to enter the doorway reserved for royalty. The result was that Princess Louise was often absent from royal functions, and later often absent from her husband’s side. It was odd that the Queen, who had suffered bitterly when abroad from Germanic etiquette on this point, should in her own Court have allowed her own daughter to experience the same discomfort. However, it was the same intricate machinery at work, and heaven knows what nobleman might not have been annoyed if Lorne had been treated with respect.