Life of Her Most Gracious Majesty the Queen Volume I Part 11

St. James's has still a royal resident in the sole surviving member of the great family of George III., the venerable d.u.c.h.ess of Cambridge, who lives in the north wing of the palace. Marlborough House and Clarence House are in the immediate vicinity, indeed the last is so near that it is reached by a covered way. And as if to make the sense of the neighbourhood of a cl.u.s.ter of royal establishments more vivid, and the thought of the younger generation of the Royal Family more present in the old place, as the visitor pa.s.ses through its corridors the cannon in the park peals forth the announcement of the birth of the last of her Majesty's grandchildren.

On the 28th of February, a little more than a fortnight after the marriage, came the Prince's first practical experience of its cost to him. His father left on his return to Coburg. "He said to me," the Queen wrote in her Journal, "that I had never known a father, and could not therefore feel what he did. His childhood had been very happy. Ernest, he said, was now the only one remaining here of all his earliest ties and recollections; but if I continued to love him as I did now, I could make up for all.... Oh!

how I did feel for my dearest, precious husband at this moment! Father, brother, friends, country, all has he left, and all for me. G.o.d grant that I may be the happy person, the _most_ happy person to make this dearest, blessed being happy and contented. What is in my power to make him happy I will do."

Prince Ernest remained in England nearly three months after his father had left.

Early in March a step was taken to render the Prince's position clearer and more secure. Letters patent were issued conferring on him precedence next to the Queen. How necessary the step was, even in this country, towards a conclusion which appears to us to-day so natural as to be beyond dispute, may be gathered from the circ.u.mstance that, even after the marriage, objections were made to the Prince's sitting by the Queen's side in the State carriage on State occasions, and to his occupying a chair of State next the throne when she opened and prorogued Parliament.

Prince Albert proposed for himself a wise and generous course, which he afterwards embodied in fitting words--"to sink his own individual existence in that of his wife, to aim at no power by himself or for himself, to shun all ostentation, to a.s.sume no separate responsibility before the public; continually and anxiously to watch every part of the public business in order to be able to advise and a.s.sist her at any moment, in any of the multifarious and difficult questions brought before her--sometimes political, or social, or personal--as the natural head of the family, superintendent of her household, manager of her private affairs, her sole confidential adviser in politics and only a.s.sistant in her communications with the affairs of the Government." In fact, the Prince was the Queen's private secretary in all save the name, uniting the two departments, political and social, of such an office which had hitherto been held separately by Lord Melbourne and Baroness Lehzen.

Prince Albert discharged the double duty with the authority of his rank and character, and especially of his relations to the Queen. He expressed his object very modestly in writing to his father: "I endeavour quietly to be of as much use to Victoria in her position as I can." The post was a most delicate and difficult one, and would have been absolutely untenable, had it not been for the perfect confidence and good understanding always existing between the Queen and the Prince, and for his remarkable command of temper, and manly forbearance and courtesy, under every provocation, to all who approached him. Perhaps a still more potent agent was a quality which was dimly felt from the beginning, and is fully recognised to-day--his sincerity of nature and honesty of purpose. In the painful revelations which, alas! time is apt to bring of double-dealing and self-seeking on the part of men in power, no public character of his day stands out more honourably in the strong light which posterity is already concentrating on the words and actions of the past, than does Prince Albert for undeniable truthfulness and disinterestedness. Men may still cavil at his conclusions, and maintain that he theorised and systematised and was tempted to interfere too much, but they have long ceased to question his perfect integrity and single-heartedness, his rooted aversion to all trickery and to deceit in every form. "He was an honest man and a n.o.ble prince who did good work," is now said universally of the Queen's husband; and honesty is not only the highest praise, it is a great power in dealing with one's fellows.

But it was not in a day or without many struggles that anything approaching to his aim was achieved. The inevitable irritation caused by the transfer of power and the disturbance of existing arrangements on the part of a new comer, the sensitive jealousy which even the Prince's foreign birth occasioned, had to be overcome before the first approach to success could be attained.

We can remember that some of the old Scotch Jacobite songs--very sarcastic where German royal houses were concerned--experienced a temporary revival, certainly more in jest than in earnest, and with a far higher appreciation of the fun than of the malice of the sentiment. The favourite was "The wee, wee German Lairdie," and began in this fashion:--

Wha the Diel hae we gotten for a King, But a wee, wee German Lairdie?

And when they gaed to bring him hame He was delvin' in his little kail-yardie.

The last verse declared:--

He'a pu'ed the rose o'English blooms, He's broken the harp o'Irish, clowns, But Scotia's thistle will jag his thoomba, The wee, wee German Lairdie.

A prophecy honoured in its entire breach.

Even tried and trusty friends grown old in Court service could not make up their minds at once to the changed order of affairs, or resign, without an effort to retain it, their rule when it came into collision with the wishes of the new head of the household; Prince Albert, in writing frankly to his old comrade Prince Lowenstein, said he was very happy and contented, but the difficulty in filling his place with proper dignity was that he was only the husband and not the master of the house. The Queen had to a.s.sert, like a true woman, when appealed to on the subject, that she had solemnly engaged at the altar to obey as well as to love and honour her husband, and "this sacred obligation she could consent neither to limit nor define."

It may be stated that, in spite of the fidelity and devotion of those who surrounded the Queen, the old system under which the arrangements of the palaces were conducted stood in great need of reform. Anything more c.u.mbrous, complicated, and inconvenient than the plan adopted cannot easily be conceived. The great establishments were not subject to one independent, responsible rule, they were divided into various departments under as many different controlling bodies. Rights and privileges, sinecures and perquisites, bristled on all sides, and he who would reform them must face the unpopularity which is almost always the first experience of every reformer. There is a graphic account of the situation in the "Life of the Prince Consort," and "Baron Stockmar's Memoirs." "The three great Officers of State, the Lord Steward, the Lord Chamberlain, and the Master of the Horse, all of them officials who varied with each change of the Ministry, and were appointed without regard to any special qualifications for their office, had each a governing voice in the regulation of the household.... Thus one section of the palace was supposed to be under the Lord Chamberlain's charge, another under that of the Lord Steward, while as to a third it was uncertain whose business it was to look after it. These officials were responsible for all that concerned the interior of the building, but the outside had to be taken care of by the office of Woods and Forests. The consequence was, that as the inside cleaning of the windows belonged to the Lord Chamberlain's department, the degree of light to be admitted into the palace depended proportionably on the well-timed and good understanding between the Lord Chamberlain's Office and that of Woods and Forests. One portion of the _personnel_ of the establishment again was under the authority of the Lord Chamberlain, another under that of the Master of the Horse, and a third under the jurisdiction of the Lord Steward." "The Lord Steward,"

writes Baron Stockmar, "finds the fuel and lays the fire, and the Lord Chamberlain lights it.... In the same manner the Lord Chamberlain provides all the lamps, and the Lord Steward must clean, trim, and light them.

Before a pane of gla.s.s or a cupboard door could be mended, the sanction of so many officials had to be obtained, that often months elapsed before the repairs were made."

One is irresistibly reminded of the dilemma of the unfortunate King of Spain, who died from a feverish attack brought on by a prolonged exposure to a great fire, because it was not etiquette for the monarch to rise, and the grandee whose prerogative it was to move the royal chair happened to be out of the way.

"As neither the Lord Chamberlain nor the Master of the Horse has a regular deputy residing in the palace, more than two-thirds of all the male and female servants are left without a master in the house. They can come on and go off duty as they choose, they can remain absent hours and hours on their days of waiting, or they may commit any excess or irregularity; there is n.o.body to observe, to correct, or to reprimand them. The various details of internal arrangement whereon depend the well-being and comfort of the whole establishment, no one is cognisant of, or responsible for.

There is no officer responsible for the cleanliness, order, and security of the rooms and offices throughout the palace."

Doubtless, it was under this remarkable condition of the royal household that a considerable robbery of silver plate from an _attic_ in which it was stored took place at Windsor Castle in 1841. Ma.s.sive silver encasings of tables, borders of mirrors, fire-dogs and candelabra, together with the silver ornaments of Tippoo Saib's tent, disappeared in this way.

It took years to remedy such a state of matters, and it was only by the exercise of the greatest tact, which, to be sure, was comparatively easy to the Prince, that the improvement was effected. The necessary reforms were made to proceed from the officers of State themselves, and the enforcement of the new regulations was carried out by a Master of the Household, who resided permanently in the palace which the Queen occupied.

Eventually each royal establishment was brought to a high average of order and efficiency. If possible, still greater caution had to be practised in the Prince's dealing with political affairs, for here the jealousy of foreign influence was national, and among the most deeply rooted of insular prejudices. In the beginning of their married life the Prince was rarely with the Queen at her Cabinet Councils, though no objection had been made to his presence, and he did not take much share in business, though Lord Melbourne, especially, urged his being made acquainted with it in all its details. Both in its public and private relations, the path at starting was not an easy one, while the Prince and the Queen shared its anxieties and worries. Happily for all, the two, who were alike in sense, good feeling, and trusting affection, stood firm, and gradually surmounted the contradictions in their brilliant lot. But it was probably under these influences that Baron Stockmar, always exacting in the best interests of those he loved, fancied--even while he had no hesitation in recording the Prince behaved in his difficult position very well--that a friend had reason to dread in the young man not yet twenty-one, the old defects of dislike to intellectual exertion and indifference to politics.

No efforts were wanting on the part of the good old mentor, who in his absence kept up a constant correspondence with the Prince, to preserve the latter's "ideal aspirations." Sometimes, the keen observer feared that the object of his dreams and cares was losing courage for his self-imposed Herculean labours, but the brave will and loyal heart proved triumphant.

That spring and the next two springs and summers were gay seasons in London--and London life meant then to the Queen and the Prince an overwhelming amount of engagements, besides the actual part in the government of the country. "Levees, Drawing-rooms, presentations of addresses, great dinners, State visits to the theatre" swelled the long list. The Prince, like most Germans, was fond of the play, and had a great admiration of Shakespeare, whose plays were revived at Covent Garden in 1840, Charles Kemble giving a last glimpse of the glory of the early Kemble performances. The couple presided over many little b.a.l.l.s and dances which became a Court where the sovereigns were in the heyday of their youth and happiness. Lady Bloomfield, who as the Hon. Miss Liddell was one of the Queen's Maids of Honour a little later, gives a pleasant account of an episode at one of these dances. "One lovely summer's morning we had danced till dawn, and the quadrangle being then open to the east, her Majesty went out on the roof of the portico to see the sun rise, which was one of the most beautiful sights I ever remember. It rose behind St.

Paul's, which we saw quite distinctly; Westminster Abbey and the trees in the Green Park stood out against a golden sky."

All this innocent gaiety was consecrated by the faithful discharge of duty and the reverent observance of sacred obligations. At Easter, which was spent at Windsor, the Queen and the Prince took the Sacrament together for the first time. "The Prince," the Queen has said, "had a very strong feeling about the solemnity of the act, and did not like to appear in company either the evening before or on the day on which, he took it, and he and the Queen almost always dined alone on these occasions." Her Majesty has supplied a brief record, in the "Early Years of the Prince Consort," of one such peaceful evening. "We two dined together. Albert likes being quite alone before he takes the Sacrament; we played part of Mozart's Requiem, and then he read to me out of _Stunden den Andacht_ (Hours of Devotion) the article on _Selbster Kentniss_ (Self-knowledge.)"

The whole sounds like a sweet, solemn, blessed pause in the crowded busy life.

A sudden shock, which was only that of a great danger happily averted, broke in on the flush of all that was best worth having and doing in existence, and seemed to utter a warning against the instability of life at its brightest and fairest. There was stag-hunting on Ascot Heath, at which the Queen and the Prince were to be present. He was to join in the hunt and she was to follow with Prince Ernest in a pony phaeton. As she stood by a window in Windsor Castle, she saw Prince Albert canter past on a restless and excited horse. In vain the rider turned the animal round several times, he got the bit between his teeth and started at the top of his speed among the trees of the Park; very soon he brushed against a branch and unseated the Prince, who fell, without, however, sustaining any serious injury. The Queen saw the beginning but not the end of the misadventure, and her alarm was only relieved by the return of one of the grooms in waiting, who told the extent of the accident. _n.o.blesse oblige._ The Prince mounted a fresh horse and proceeded to the hunt, and the Queen joined him. "Albert received me on the terrace of the large stand and led me up," the Queen wrote in her Journal. "He looked very pale, and said he had been much alarmed lest I should have been frightened by his accident.... He told me he had sc.r.a.ped the skin off his poor arm, had bruised his hip and knee, and his coat was torn and dirty. It was a frightful fall."

On the 20th of April, an event took place in France which at this time naturally was particularly interesting both to the Queen and the Prince.

The Duc de Nemours, second son of Louis Philippe and brother to the Queen of the Belgians, married Princess Victoire of Saxe-Coburg, only daughter of the head of the Catholic branch of the family, sister of the King Consort of Portugal, and first cousin both to the Queen and Prince Albert.

This marriage drew many intertwined family ties still more closely together. Princess Victoire was a pretty golden-haired girl, and is described afterwards as a singularly sweet, affectionate, reasonable woman. She had spent much of her youth at Coburg, and been a favourite playmate of Prince Albert, whose junior she was by three years. She was the friend of the Queen from girlhood. "We were like sisters," wrote her Majesty, "bore the same name, married the same year.... There was in short a similarity between us, which, since 1839, united us closely and tenderly." The Duc de Nemours, without the intellectual gifts of some of his brothers, resembled his good mother, Queen Amelie, in many respects.

He had quiet, domestic tastes, and was affectionately attached to his wife.

CHAPTER X.

ROYAL OCCUPATIONS.--AN ATTEMPT ON THE QUEEN'S LIFE.

The family arrangements in the marriage of the Queen and Prince Albert appear to have been made with the kindest, most judicious consideration for what was due to former ties, that all the relations of life might be settled gradually and naturally, on the footing which it was desirable they should a.s.sume. The connection between the Queen and the d.u.c.h.ess of Kent was very close. It was that of a mother and child who had been nearly all in all to each other, who, till Queen Victoria's marriage, had not been separated for a day. Since the d.u.c.h.ess of Kent's arrival in England, she had never dwelt alone. It was now deemed advisable that she should have a separate house, which was, however, to be in constant communication with the Queen's, the intercourse between the two continuing to be of the most intimate character, mother and daughter meeting daily and sharing the most of their pleasures. In April, two months after the marriage, the d.u.c.h.ess removed to Ingestrie House, Belgrave Square.

In another month, on the 7th of May, Prince Ernest left England. The parting between the brothers was a severe trial to both. They bade farewell, German student fashion, singing together beforehand the parting song _Abschied_.

The young couple were now left in a greater measure to themselves to form their life, and lead it to n.o.ble conclusions. They spent the Queen's birthday in private at Claremont--a place endeared to her by the happiest a.s.sociations of her childhood, and very pleasant to him because of its country attractions. There the pair could wander about the beautiful grounds and neighbourhood, as another royal pair had wandered before them, and do much as they pleased, like simple citizens or great folks living _in villeggiatura_. The custom was then established of thus keeping the real birthday together in retirement, while another day was set apart for public rejoicing.

There is a story told of the Queen and Prince Albert's early visits to Claremont--a story certainly not without its parallel in the lives of other popular young sovereigns in their honeymoons, but probable enough in this case. The couple were caught in a shower, during one of their longer rambles, and took refuge in a cottage--the old mistress of which was totally unacquainted with the high rank of her guests. She entertained them with many extraordinary anecdotes of Princess Charlotte and Prince Leopold, the original heroine and hero of Claremont. At last the dame volunteered to give her visitors the loan of her umbrella, with many charges to Prince Albert that it should be taken care of and returned to its owner. The Queen and the Prince started on their homeward way under the borrowed shelter, and it was not for some time that the donor knew with whom she had gossipped, and to whom she had dealt her favours.

The Prince's first appearance as an art patron took place in connection with the Ancient Music Concerts. He had already been named one of the directors who arrange in turn each concert. He made the selections for his concert on the 29th of April, and both he and the Queen appeared at the rehearsal on the 27th. Perhaps the gentle science was what he loved above every other, being a true German in that as in all else. At this time he played and sang much with the Queen; the two played together often on the organ in one of his rooms. Lady Lyttelton has described the effect of his music. "Yesterday evening, as I was sitting here comfortably after the drive by candlelight, reading M. Guizot, suddenly there arose from the room beneath, oh, such sounds! It was Prince Albert, dear Prince Albert, playing on the organ; and with such master skill, as it appeared to me, modulating so learnedly, winding through every kind of ba.s.s and chord, till he wound up with the most perfect cadence, and then off again, louder and then softer. No tune, as I was too distant to perceive the execution or small touches so I only heard the harmony, but I never listened with much more pleasure to any music. I ventured at dinner to ask him what I had heard. 'Oh! my organ, a new possession of mine. I am so fond of the organ! It is the first of instruments; the only instrument for expressing one's feelings' (I thought, are they not good feelings that the organ expresses?), 'and it teaches to play; for on the organ a mistake, oh! such misery;' and he quite shuddered at the thought of the _sostenuto_ discord."

But while the Prince was an enthusiastic musician, he was likewise fond of painting; his taste and talent in this respect also having been carefully cultivated. In these sunshiny early days, sunshiny in spite of their occasional clouds, he still possessed a moderate amount of leisure, notwithstanding the late hours night and morning, of which the Queen took the blame, declaring it was her fault that they breakfasted at ten, getting out very little--a practice quite different from their later habits. He seized the opportunity of starting various pursuits which formed afterwards the chief recreation of his and the Queen's laborious days. He tried etching, which afforded the two much entertainment, and he began his essays in landscape gardening, developing a delightful faculty with which she had the utmost sympathy.

On the 1st of June the Prince took the initiatory step in identifying himself with moral and social progress, and in placing himself, as the Queen's representative, at the head of those humane and civilising movements which recommended themselves to his good judgment and philanthropic spirit. He complied with the request that he should be chairman at a meeting to promote the abolition of the slave trade, and made his first public speech in advocacy of justice between man and man.

This speech was no small effort to a young foreigner, who, however accomplished, was certainly not accustomed to public speaking in a foreign tongue. It was like delivering a maiden speech under great difficulties, and as it was of importance that he should produce a good impression, he spared no preparation for the task. He composed the speech himself, learnt it by heart, and repeated it to the Queen in the first instance.

Among the crowd present was the young Quaker lady, Caroline Fox, whose "Memories" have been given to the world. She wrote at the time: "The acclamations attending his (the Prince's) entrance were perfectly deafening, and he bore them all with calm, modest dignity, repeatedly bowing with considerable grace. He certainly is a very beautiful young man, a thorough German, and a fine poetic specimen of the race. He uttered his speech in a rather low tone and with the prettiest foreign accent."

On the 18th of the same month great horror and indignation were excited by the report of an attempt to a.s.sa.s.sinate the Queen. About six o'clock on the June evening, her Majesty was driving, according to her usual custom, with Prince Albert. The low open phaeton, attended by two equeries, was proceeding up Const.i.tution Hill, on its way first to the house of the d.u.c.h.ess of Kent in Belgrave Square and afterwards to Hyde Park. Suddenly a little man leaning against the park railing drew a pistol from under his coat and fired at her Majesty, who was sitting at the farther side from him. He was within six yards of the phaeton--so near, in fact, that the Queen, who was looking another way, neither saw him nor comprehended for a moment the cause of the loud noise ringing in her ears. But Prince Albert had seen the man hold something towards them, and was aware of what had occurred. The horses started and the carriage stopped. The Prince called to the postillions to drive on, while he caught the Queen's hands and asked if the fright had not shaken her, but the brave royal heart only made light of his alarm. He looked again, and saw the same man still standing in a theatrical att.i.tude, a pistol in each hand. The next instant the fellow pointed the second pistol and fired once more. Both the Queen and the Prince saw the aim, as well as heard the shot, on this occasion, and she stooped, he pulling her down that the ball might pa.s.s over her head. In another moment the man, who still leant against the railing, pistols in hand, with much bravado and without any attempt to escape, was seized by a bystander. In the middle of the consternation and wrath of the gathering crowd, the Queen and the Prince went on to the d.u.c.h.ess of Kent that they might be the first to tell her what had happened and a.s.sure her of the safety of her daughter. A little later, in order to show the people that the Queen had not lost her confidence in them, the couple carried out their original intention of taking a drive in Hyde Park. There they were received with a perfect ovation, a crowd of n.o.bility and gentry in carriages and on horseback forming a volunteer escort on the way back to Buckingham Palace, where another mult.i.tude awaited them, vehemently cheering, as the Queen, pale but smiling and bowing, re-entered her palace. The wretched lad who was the author of the attack did not deny it, but seemed rather sorry that it had failed to inflict any injury, though he had no motive to allege for such a crime. In spite of the strictest search no ball could be found, which left the question doubtful whether or not the pistols had been loaded. On further examination it proved that the lad, Edward Oxford--not above eighteen years of age, was a discharged barman from a public-house in Oxford Street. His father, who was dead, had been a working jeweller in Birmingham.

"It would be difficult to describe the state of loyal excitement into which the Metropolis has been thrown by this event," says the _Annual Register_. "It seems as if only the dastardly deed had been wanted to bring out the full love and devotion of the people to their young Queen,"

the happy wife and expectant mother, whose precious life might have been cut short by the unlooked-for shot of an a.s.sa.s.sin. At the different theatres and concerts that evening "G.o.d save the Queen" was sung with pa.s.sionate fervour. When the Queen and Prince Albert drove out the next afternoon in the same phaeton, at the same hour, in Hyde Park, the demonstration of the previous day was repeated with effusion. The crowd was immense, the cheering was again vociferous. An improvised body-guard of hundreds of gentlemen on horseback surrounded the couple. "The line of carriages (calling at Buckingham Palace to make inquiries) extended a considerable way down the Mall." The calls were incessant till the procession from the Houses of Parliament arrived. Thousands of people a.s.sembled to witness it. The Sheriffs of London came first in four carriages. Then the Grenadier Guards with their band marched through the gateway, on which the royal standard was hoisted, and took up their position in the entrance court. The Cabinet Ministers and chief Officers of the Household followed. The State carriage of the Speaker led the hundred and nine carriages filled with Members of the House of Commons.

The Peers' carriages were upwards of eighty in number. The occupants, beginning with the Barons, rose in rank till they reached the Royal Dukes, and wound up with the Lord Chancellor. "Many of the Lords wore splendid uniforms and decorations and various orders; the Duke of Wellington especially was attired with much magnificence.... The terrace in front of the house was crowded with distinguished persons in grand costume," as on a gala-day. The Queen received the address of congratulation on her escape seated on the throne. What a strange contrast between the scene and its origin--the emphatically stately and dignified display, and the miserable act which gave rise to it! What blended feelings cause and effect must have produced in the princ.i.p.al performers--the inevitable pain and shame for the base reason, the well-warranted pride and pleasure in the honourable result!

The first time the Queen went to the opera afterwards she wrote in her Journal that the moment she and the Prince entered the box "the whole house rose and cheered and waved hats and handkerchiefs, and went on so for some time. 'G.o.d save the Queen' was sung.... Albert was called for separately and much cheered."

The trial of Oxford came on during the following month. The question of bullets or no bullets in the pistols was transferred to the jury. Evidence of symptoms of insanity and of confirmed insanity in the prisoner, his father, and grandfather, was shown, and after some difficulty in dealing with the first question the jury found the prisoner guilty, while he was at the same time declared insane. Therefore Oxford, like every other prisoner shielded by the irresponsibility of madness, was delivered up to be dealt with according to her Majesty's pleasure, which signified his imprisonment so long as the Crown should see fit.

The sole reason for the outrage on the Queen proved to be the morbid egotism of an ill-conditioned, ignorant, half-crazy lad; showing that one more danger exists for sovereigns--a peril born entirely of their high and solitary rank with its fascination for envious, irritable, distempered minds.

The following routine of the Queen's life at this time is given in the "Early Years of the Prince Consort": "They breakfasted at nine, and took a walk every morning soon afterwards."

In London, their walks were in Buckingham Palace gardens, fifty acres in extent, part of which was once the pleasant "Mulberry Gardens" of James I.

The lake, not far from the palace, covers five acres. Looking across the velvet sward away to the ma.s.ses of shady trees, it is hard to realise that one is still in London. The Prince had already enlivened these gardens with different kinds of animals and aquatic birds, a modified version of the _Thier-Garten_ so often found in connection with royal residences in Germany.

The Queen mentions that, "in their morning walks in the gardens, it was a great amus.e.m.e.nt to the Prince to watch and feed these birds. He taught them to come when he whistled to them from a bridge connecting a small island with the rest of the gardens.

"Then came the usual amount of business (far less heavy, however, then than now), besides which they drew and etched a great deal together, which was a source of great amus.e.m.e.nt, having the plates bit in the house.

Luncheon followed at the usual hour of two o'clock. Lord Melbourne, who was generally staying in the house, came to the Queen in the afternoon, and between five and six the Prince usually drove her out in a pony phaeton. If the Prince did not drive the Queen he rode, in which case she drove with the d.u.c.h.ess of Kent or the ladies. The Prince also read aloud most days to the Queen. The dinner was at eight o'clock, and always with the company. In the evening the Prince frequently played at double chess, a game of which he was very fond, and which he played extremely well."