On the Sunday following that eventful 9th of November on which His Most Gracious Majesty King Edward VII. first saw the light, the Rev. Sydney Smith preached at St. Paul’s, and made the following interesting addition to the Bidding Prayer:—
“We pray also for that infant of the Royal race whom in Thy good providence Thou hast given us for our future King. We beseech Thee so to mould his heart and fashion his spirit that he may be a blessing and not an evil to the land of his birth. May he grow in favour with man by leaving to its own force and direction the energy of a free people. May he grow in favour with God by holding the faith in Christ fervently and feelingly, without feebleness, without fanaticism, without folly. As he will be the first man in these realms, so may he be the best, disdaining to hide bad actions by high station, and endeavouring always by the example of a strict and moral life to repay those gifts which a loyal people are so willing to spare from their own necessities to a good King.”
It must be remembered that this prayer was uttered in 1841, and some of the phrases which the great wit used reflect rather the Holland House view of the monarchy entertained at that time. Nevertheless, the prayer is noteworthy because in spirit, if not in the letter, it has been so completely answered. The manner of King Edward’s accession exhibits to a contemplative mind the eternal contrast between East and West. In an Oriental State a new Sovereign is as a rule unknown even in his outward appearance to his subjects, and is generally tossed up on to the throne by the angry waves of some palace intrigue of which he himself knows nothing. But it is the peculiar happiness of the British people that, in the midst of their bitter grief at the loss of Queen Victoria, there came to them the swift thought that one whom they had known and approved from his youth up was her successor, and would assuredly walk in her footsteps.
The accession of a Prince so universally beloved to the throne of his ancestors amid the deeply-felt joy of a great and free people is an inspiring spectacle. Perhaps, however, it is not fully realised how much King Edward, in the years of his public life as Prince of Wales, shared in the duties of the British Crown. The following pages will, it is hoped, show how completely His Majesty and his lamented mother agreed in their conception of the position of ruler of the British Empire. It is known that the death of the Prince Consort drew even closer the ties of affection which subsisted between the late Sovereign and her eldest son, and it would seem as if King Edward from that day forward had set both his parents before himself as exemplars, and had endeavoured to approve himself to his future subjects as a worthy son, not only of Victoria the Wise but also of Albert the Good. It is certainly significant how many of the qualities of both his parents His Majesty possesses.
In those admirable messages to his people, and to India and the Colonies, as well as to his Navy and Army, the King wrote absolutely as his mother would have wished him to write. There is in these documents the same keen personal sympathy, the same human touch, so notable in all Her late Majesty’s letters to her people, the same unerring perception, the same insight which demonstrated how completely the heart of the monarch was beating in unison with that of his people.
Although the British people realised and appreciated the Prince Consort’s great qualities some time before his death, it is, nevertheless, true to say that they never came to regard him with quite the same feeling of affection as that in which other members of the Royal Family were held. This was in no sense the fault of Prince Albert, but is rather attributable to that national prejudice against everything and everybody not originally and completely British which was especially strong in the middle years of the nineteenth century. Certainly we have become more cosmopolitan since those days; we have come to see that the manners and customs of foreign nations are not perhaps always so absurd as our forefathers, at any rate, supposed, and may even in some few respects be worthy of adoption and imitation.
In this salutary process of national illumination King Edward VII. undoubtedly played a considerable part. From the beginning of his public career he endeared himself to his future subjects by his natural bonhomie, his tact, and a certain indefinable touch of human sympathy which characterised all his actions and speeches. He was therefore able to carry on and to develop with extraordinary success his father’s work in promoting, not only the higher pursuits of science and art, but also the more immediately practical application of scientific principles to industries and manufactures. Few people realise how much England’s industrial prosperity was advanced both by the father and the son, and how much greater that prosperity would have been if Prince Albert’s foresight had been better understood and appreciated by his contemporaries.
Prince Albert will also ever be remembered with gratitude by the British people for the unremitting care which he devoted to the education of all his children, and especially to that of his eldest son. Of course the seed must be sown in good ground, and we know that the ground was good; the effect of that early education is seen in the admirable tact with which King Edward filled a most difficult and delicate position for many years. This position was rendered additionally onerous by the sometimes ridiculous, sometimes malevolent, stories which used to be circulated about his private affairs. It is one of the great penalties of Royalty that practically no reply can be made to the voice of calumny and detraction. The increase of the means of communication, and the growth of the newspaper press, have tended to heighten the glare of publicity in which Royalty is compelled to live. But this bright light of publicity does not at all resemble that dry light of reason which Bacon regarded as so essential to the investigations of science; its rays are refracted and distorted by ignorance and clumsiness, if not by actual malevolence. Mr. Balfour’s quiet announcement in the House of Commons soon after the King’s Accession, that on the resettlement of the Civil List no question of debts will arise for consideration—as was the case, for instance, on the Accession of George IV.—is an impressive reply to rumours regrettably current of late years.
It must have required no common discipline and self-control to bear such penalties as those, inflicted by the tongue of scandal, and at the same time to exercise that invariable discretion in reference to the great interests of State which we all admired so much in His Majesty when he was Prince of Wales. We should all regard as extraordinary, were it not that we have become so used to it, the way in which His Majesty contrived over so many years to be in politics and yet not of them; to educate himself in State affairs, while preserving that rigorous impartiality which our constitutional monarchy demands from the Heir to the throne. The sentiments with which he takes up his great task as King, not only of the United Kingdom but also of our vast Colonial Empire beyond the seas, added to the great dependency of India, is significantly shown in a sentence which His Majesty uttered in a speech long ago—that his great wish was that every man born in the Colonies should feel himself as English as if he had been born in Kent or Sussex.
King Edward VII. was born on 9th November 1841, at Buckingham Palace. The Duke of Wellington, who was in the Palace at the time, is said to have asked the nurse, Mrs. Lily, “Is it a boy?” “It’s a Prince, your Grace,” answered the justly offended woman.
The news was received with great enthusiasm throughout the country, and Queen Victoria and Prince Albert had thousands of letters and telegrams of congratulation not only through official sources at home and abroad but from many of Her Majesty’s humblest subjects all over the world. Punch celebrated the event in some verses beginning—
Huzza! we’ve a little Prince at last,
A roaring Royal boy;
And all day long the booming bells
Have rung their peals of joy.
And the little park guns have blazed away,
And made a tremendous noise,
Whilst the air has been filled since eleven o’clock
With the shouts of little boys.
At the moment of his birth the eldest son of the Sovereign became Duke of Cornwall. This dukedom was the first created in England. It was created by King Edward III. by charter, wherein his son, Edward the Black Prince, was declared Duke of Cornwall, to hold to himself and his heirs, Kings of England, and to their first-born sons; and it is in virtue of that charter that the eldest son of the Sovereign is by law acknowledged Duke of Cornwall the instant he is born.
At the same time King Edward III. granted by patent certain provision for the support of the dukedom, including the Stannaries, in Cornwall, together with the coinage of tin, and various lands, manors, and tenements, some of which lay outside the county of Cornwall, but were nevertheless deemed to be part of the duchy. From these rents and royalties King Edward VII. derived, when he was Duke of Cornwall, a revenue of about £60,000 a year.
The little prince also became at his birth Duke of Rothesay, Earl of Carrick, Baron of Renfrew, Lord of the Isles, and Great Steward of Scotland (by act of the Scottish Parliament in 1469), but he was not born Prince of Wales. King George IV. was only a week old when he was created Prince of Wales and Earl of Chester by letters patent, but King Edward VII. had to wait nearly a month—till 4th December 1841—for these dignities.
The picturesque origin of the title of Prince of Wales is well known—how King Edward I. promised the turbulent Welsh barons to appoint them a prince of their own, one who was born in Wales and could not speak a word of English, and on whose life and conversation there was no stain at all. Having engaged the consent of the barons beforehand, he showed them his infant son, Prince Edward, who had been born in Carnarvon Castle but a few days before, and who was thereupon acclaimed as the first Prince of Wales. The dignity thus became established as personal, not hereditary, which could be granted or withheld at the pleasure of the Sovereign.
The Earldom of Chester was an early creation which was annexed to the Crown for ever by letters patent in the thirty-first year of King Henry III., when Prince Edward, his eldest son, was immediately granted the dignity. Edward the Black Prince received the Earldom of Chester when he was only three years old, before he was created Duke of Cornwall.
Queen Victoria’s recovery was rapid, as will be seen from the following entry in Her Majesty’s Journal on 21st November, the birthday of the Empress Frederick (Princess Royal of England):—
“Albert brought in dearest little Pussy (the Princess Royal) in such a smart white merino dress trimmed with blue, which Mama (the Duchess of Kent) had given her, and a pretty cap, and placed her on my bed, seating himself next to her, and she was very dear and good. And as my precious, invaluable Albert sat there, and our little Love between us, I felt quite moved with happiness and gratitude to God.”
A little less than a month after the birth of her eldest son, Queen Victoria wrote to her uncle, Leopold I., King of the Belgians:—
“I wonder very much who my little boy will be like. You will understand how fervent are my prayers, and I am sure everybody’s must be, to see him resemble his Father in every, every respect, both in body and mind.”
Christmas with its Christmas tree brought a new fund of delight to the Royal parents. “To think,” wrote the Queen in her Journal, “that we have two children now, and one who enjoys the sight already, is like a dream!” Prince Albert also wrote to his father:—“To-day I have two children of my own to give presents to, who, they know not why, are full of happy wonder at the German Christmas tree and its radiant candles.”
The christening of the Prince of Wales took place on 25th January 1842, in St. George’s Chapel, Windsor, for although Royal baptisms had hitherto been celebrated within the Palace, both the Queen and Prince Albert felt it to be more in harmony with the religious sentiments of the country that the future King should be christened within a consecrated building.
As can be easily understood, the choice of sponsors for the Prince of Wales was a matter of considerable delicacy. Finally the King of Prussia was asked to undertake the office, and Baron Stockmar gives the following interesting account of how His Majesty brushed aside the intrigues which were immediately set on foot:—
“Politicians, as their habit is, attached an exaggerated political importance to the affair. The King, who foresaw this, wrote to Metternich, and in a manner asked for his advice. The answer was evasive; and on this the King determined not to give himself any concern about the political intrigues which were set on foot against the journey. Certain it is, that the Russians, Austrians, and even the French, in the person of Bresson (their Ambassador at Berlin) manœuvred against it. They were backed up by a Court party, who were persuaded that the King would avail himself of the opportunity to promote, along with Bunsen and the Archbishop of Canterbury, his pet idea of Anglicanizing the Prussian Church. When the King’s decision to go became known, Bresson begged that he would at least go through France, and give the Royal Family a meeting; but this was declined.”
The King of Prussia arrived on the 22nd, and was met by Prince Albert at Greenwich and conducted to Windsor.
King Edward’s other sponsors were his step-grandmother, the Duchess of Saxe-Coburg, represented by the Duchess of Kent; the Duke of Cambridge; the young Duchess of Saxe-Coburg (Queen Victoria’s sister-in-law), represented by the Duchess of Cambridge; Princess Sophia, represented by the Princess Augusta of Cambridge; and Prince Ferdinand of Saxe-Coburg.
Nothing was omitted to make the Prince of Wales’s christening a magnificent and impressive ceremony. There was a full choral service, and a special anthem had been composed by Mr. (afterwards Sir) George Elvey for the occasion. When Prince Albert was told of this, and asked when it should be sung, he answered, “Not at all. No anthem. If the service ends by an anthem, we shall all go out criticising the music. We will have something we all know—something in which we can all join—something devotional. The Hallelujah Chorus; we shall all join in that, with our hearts.” The Hallelujah Chorus ended the ceremony accordingly.
“It is impossible,” wrote Queen Victoria in her Journal, “to describe how beautiful and imposing the effect of the whole scene was in the fine old chapel, with the banners, the music, and the light shining on the altar.” It was significant of the young Queen’s native simplicity that the Prince was only christened Albert, after his father, and Edward, after his grandfather, the Duke of Kent.
Both Queen Victoria and Prince Albert soon showed that they were determined to allow nothing like publicity to come near their nurseries, and the public obtained but few glimpses of the Prince of Wales as a child. Prince Albert’s intimate friend and adviser, Baron Stockmar, wrote a year after his birth to one of his friends:—
“The Prince, although a little plagued with his teeth, is strong upon his legs, with a calm, clear, bright expression of face.” Before he was eighteen months old His Royal Highness had already sat for his portrait several times.
King Edward VII. was barely four months old when Baron Stockmar drew up a very long memorandum on the education of the Royal children. In this document he laid down that the beginning of education must be directed to the regulation of the child’s natural instincts, to give them the right direction, and above all to keep the mind pure. “This,” he went on, “is only to be effected by placing about children only those who are good and pure, who will teach not only by precept but by living example, for children are close observers, and prone to imitate whatever they see or hear, whether good or evil.” In the frankest manner the shrewd old German physician proceeded to point out that the irregularities of three of George III.’s sons—George IV., the Duke of York, and William IV.—had weakened the respect and influence of Royalty in this country, although the nation ultimately forgave them, because, “whatever the faults of those Princes were, they were considered by the public as true English faults”; whereas the faults of some of their brothers, who had been brought up on the Continent, though not at all worse, were not condoned, owing to the power of national prejudice.
The conclusion at which Baron Stockmar consequently arrived was, “that the education of the Royal infants ought to be from its earliest beginning a truly moral and a truly English one.” It ought therefore to be entrusted from the beginning only to persons who were themselves morally good, intelligent, well informed, and experienced, who should enjoy the full and implicit confidence of the Royal parents. The Baron did not mince matters with regard to “the malignant insinuations, cavillings, and calumnies of ignorant or intriguing people, who are more or less to be found at every Court, and who invariably try to destroy the parents’ confidence in the tutor.”
These principles commended themselves to Queen Victoria and Prince Albert, and Her Majesty wrote the following interesting letter to Lord Melbourne on the subject:—
“Windsor Castle, 24th March 1842.
“We are much occupied in considering the future management of our nursery establishment, and naturally find considerable difficulties in it. As one of the Queen’s kindest and most impartial friends, the Queen wishes to have Lord Melbourne’s opinion upon it. The present system will not do, and must be changed; and now how it is to be arranged is the great question and difficulty.… Stockmar says, and very justly, that our occupations prevent us from managing these affairs as much our own selves as other parents can, and therefore that we must have some one in whom to place implicit confidence. He says, a lady of rank and title with a sub-governess would be the best. But where to find a person so situated, fit for the place, and, if fit, one who will consent to shut herself up in the nursery, and entirely from society, as she must, if she is really to superintend the whole, and not accept the office, as in my case, Princess Charlotte’s, and my aunts’, merely for title, which would be only a source of annoyance and dispute?
“My fear is, that even if such a woman were to be found, she would consider herself not as only responsible to the Prince and Queen, but more to the country, and nation, and public, and I feel she ought to be responsible only to us, and we to the country and nation. A person of less high rank, the Queen thinks, would be less likely to do that, but would wish to be responsible only to the parents. Naturally, too, we are anxious to have the education as simple and domestic as possible. Then again, a person of lower rank is less likely to be looked up to and obeyed, than one of some name and rank. What does Lord Melbourne think?”
In his reply Lord Melbourne fully concurred in Baron Stockmar’s suggestion that a lady of rank should be appointed, and the choice of the Royal parents fell upon Lady Lyttelton, who had been a lady-in-waiting from 1838, and who appeared to possess the precise qualifications which the post demanded. The daughter of George John, second Earl Spencer, and his wife Lavinia, daughter of the first Earl of Lucan, she was born in 1787, married, in 1813, William Henry, afterwards third Lord Lyttelton, and died in 1870. Lady Lyttelton was installed as governess to the Royal children in April 1842, and discharged her duties with equal ability and devotion. Early in 1851 she laid down her office. Her young charges parted from her with sad hearts and tearful eyes, as Sir Theodore Martin records in the Life of the Prince Consort, while from the Queen and Prince Albert she received marked proofs of the deep gratitude which they felt for all that she had done.
In 1846 King Edward accompanied his parents on two yachting excursions, in August and September, on board the Royal yacht Victoria and Albert. Writing in her Journal on 2nd September, Queen Victoria says, with a pretty touch of maternal pride:—
“After passing the Alderney Race it became quite smooth; and then Bertie put on his sailor’s dress, which was beautifully made by the man on board who makes for our sailors. When he appeared, the officers and sailors, who were all assembled on deck to see him, cheered, and seemed delighted with him.”
Then, when the yacht arrived at Mounts Bay, Cornwall, Her Majesty records on 5th September that “when Bertie showed himself the people shouted ‘Three cheers for the Duke of Cornwall.’”
Again, at Falmouth, on 7th September, the Queen says:—
“The Corporation of Penryn were on board, and very anxious to see ‘The Duke of Cornwall,’ so I stepped out of the pavilion on deck with Bertie, and Lord Palmerston told them that that was ‘The Duke of Cornwall’; and the old Mayor of Penryn said that ‘he hoped he would grow up a blessing to his parents and to his country.’”
At Sunny Corner, just below Truro, the whole population “cheered, and were enchanted when Bertie was held up for them to see. It was a very pretty, gratifying sight.”
Princess Mary of Cambridge, afterwards the much-loved and lamented Duchess of Teck, gives a delightful picture of the Royal children in a letter written in 1847 to Miss Draper, her governess. Princess Mary was then about fourteen, and King Edward was rather more than five years old:—
“We paid a visit to the Queen at Windsor on New Year’s Eve, and left there on the 2nd. The Queen gave me a bracelet with her hair, and was very kind to me. The little Royal children are sweet darlings; the Princess Royal is my pet, because she is remarkably clever. The Prince of Wales is a very pretty boy, but he does not talk as much as his sister. Little Alfred, the fourth child, is a beautiful fatty, with lovely hair. Alice is rather older than him; she is very modest and quiet, but very good-natured. Helena, the baby, is a very fine child, and very healthy, which, however, they all are.”
In August 1847, Queen Victoria and Prince Albert, with the Queen’s half-brother, the Prince of Leiningen, went for a tour round the west coast of Scotland, taking with them their two eldest children, the Prince of Wales and the Princess Royal. This is notable as King Edward’s first visit to Scotland, for he was too young to accompany his parents on their first tour in Scotland in 1842; while when the Queen and Prince Albert visited Blair-Atholl in 1844 they only took with them the little Princess Royal.
Of this tour round the west coast of Scotland we obtain some delightful details in the late Queen’s Leaves from the Journal of Our Life in the Highlands. The Royal party started from Osborne in the Royal yacht Victoria and Albert, and they took the opportunity, after leaving Dartmouth, of visiting the Scilly Islands. The Queen writes:—
“Albert (who, as well as Charles, has not been unwell, while I suffered very much) went with Charles and Bertie to see one of the islands. The children recover from their sea-sickness directly.” By “Charles,” it should be explained, is meant the Prince of Leiningen. Naturally, when the Royal yacht arrived in Welsh waters, there was the greatest enthusiasm among the inhabitants at the sight of their little Prince. It must be remembered that at that time practically nothing was known by the general public about the Royal children, for their parents had very wisely resolved that they should as far as possible enjoy a natural, happy childhood, that being the best possible preparation for the public life that awaited them. However, evidently no harm was done by the notice which was taken of the Royal children on this tour. At Milford Haven their loving mother writes:—
“Numbers of boats came out, with Welshwomen in their curious high-crowned men’s hats, and Bertie was much cheered, for the people seemed greatly pleased to see the ‘Prince of Wales.’” Then again at Rothesay, when the yacht had passed up the Clyde:—
“The children enjoy everything extremely, and bear the novelty and excitement wonderfully. The people cheered the ‘Duke of Rothesay’ very much, and also called for a cheer for the ‘Princess of Great Britain.’ Everywhere the good Highlanders are very enthusiastic.”
With regard to her son’s title of Duke of Rothesay, Queen Victoria appends the following interesting note:—
“A title belonging to the eldest son of the Sovereign of Scotland, and therefore held by the Prince of Wales as eldest son of the Queen, the representative of the ancient Kings of Scotland.”
At Inveraray, which was next visited, the little Prince first met his future brother-in-law, the Marquis of Lorne, whom the Queen describes, in words which have often been quoted but will bear repetition, as “just two years old, a dear, white, fat, fair little fellow with reddish hair, but very delicate features, like both his father and mother: he is such a merry, independent little child. He had a black velvet dress and jacket, with a ‘sporran,’ scarf, and Highland bonnet.”
Naturally a good deal of interest was taken in the little Prince of Wales by those who had an opportunity of seeing him. When the great geologist, Sir Charles Lyell, went to Balmoral, the Queen’s eldest son, “a pleasing, lively boy,” gave him an account of the conjuring of Anderson, the “Wizard of the North,” who had just then shown the Court some marvellous tricks. Said the Prince in an awestruck tone:—
“He cut to pieces Mamma’s pocket-handkerchief, then darned it and ironed it so that it was as entire as ever; he then fired a pistol, and caused five or six watches to go through Gibbs’s head; but Papa knows how all these things are done, and had the watches really gone through Gibbs’s head he could hardly have looked so well, though he was confounded.”
Gibbs, it should be mentioned, was a footman.
The late Archbishop Benson, before he went up to Cambridge, was tutor to the sons of Mr. Wicksted, then tenant of Abergeldie Castle. Writing to his mother on 15th September 1848, young Mr. Benson gives the following interesting description of a glimpse which he had of the King as a little boy:—
“The Prince of Wales is a fair little lad, rather of slender make, with a good head and a remarkably quiet and thinking face, above his years in intelligence I should think. The sailor portrait of him is a good one, but does not express the thought that there is on his little brow. Prince Alfred is a fair, chubby little lad, with a quiet look, but quite the Guelph face, which does not appear in the Prince of Wales.”
In September 1848 Queen Victoria and Prince Albert established themselves with their six children at Balmoral, and Her Majesty records her first impressions of the place which was to be for so many years her much-loved Northern home. After describing her own and Prince Albert’s rooms, she says, “Opposite, down a few steps, are the children’s and Miss Hildyard’s three rooms.” Only a few days later we hear of the little Prince of Wales going out with his parents for a “drive” in the Balloch Buie. “We then mounted our ponies, Bertie riding Grant’s pony on the deer-saddle, and being led by a gillie, Grant walking by his side.” Grant, it should be explained, was head keeper, and much trusted by the Queen and Prince Albert, and for him was built a pretty lodge called Croft, a mile from Balmoral. “We scrambled up an almost perpendicular place to where there was a little box, made of hurdles and interwoven with branches of fir and heather, about five feet in height. There we seated ourselves with Bertie.” It can readily be imagined with what excitement the little Prince waited for nearly an hour till his father obtained a shot. The Queen records how her son helped her over the rough ground until they all gathered round the magnificent “Royal” which had fallen to Prince Albert’s gun.
The life at Balmoral was as far as possible shorn of Royal state, and was much the same, no doubt, as that which was led under many another hospitable roof-tree in the country round about. Queen Victoria devoted herself to her husband and children. Thus she records, on 11th September 1849, “The morning was very fine. I heard the children repeat some poetry in German.”
The life at Windsor Castle was scarcely less simple. Writing to an intimate friend, the late Duchess of Teck thus describes a dramatic performance at the Castle in January 1849, in which King Edward appeared, in spite of an accident which he had had a few days before:—
“Last Wednesday we went to Windsor Castle to remain till Friday. The visit went off very well indeed. The Queen and the children are looking very well, and the latter much grown. The poor little Prince of Wales has disfigured his face by falling on an iron-barred gate, and the bridge of his nose and both his eyes are quite black and bruised, but fortunately no bones were broken. The first evening we danced till twelve o’clock. Next day, … dinner was very early, and at eight o’clock the Play began. ‘Used Up’ and ‘Box and Cox’ were chosen for that night, and I was much pleased at seeing two very amusing pieces. They were very well acted, and we all laughed a great deal. The Theatre was well arranged, and the decorations and lamps quite wonderfully managed. It was put up in the Rubens-room, which is separated from the Garter-room by one small room where the Private Band stood. In the Garter-room was the Buffet, and in the centre hung one of the beautiful chandeliers from the pavilion at Brighton. The four elder children appeared at the Play, and the two boys wore their ‘kilts.’ The two little girls had on white lace gowns, over white satin, with pink bows and sashes. Princess Royal wears her hair in a very becoming manner, all twisted up into a large curl, which is tucked into a dark blue or black silk net, which keeps it all very tidy and neat.”
In view of all that has been said in the last chapter to show how anxiously Queen Victoria and Prince Albert considered the education of the future King of England, it is amusing to record that the latter was quite five years old before it occurred to the public to take an interest in the question. It was then that a pamphlet was published, entitled Who should educate the Prince of Wales? This contribution to the subject was carefully read by Queen Victoria and Prince Albert, and Baron Stockmar drew up another long memorandum, dealing this time with the question of the Prince’s education alone. He was fully sensible of the importance of the subject.
“On the choice of the principles on which the Prince of Wales shall be educated,” he wrote, “will in all probability depend whether the future Sovereign of England shall reign in harmony with, or in opposition to, the prevailing opinions of his people. The importance of the selection of principles is increased by the consideration that opinion in Europe is at this moment obviously in a state of transition, and that by the time the Prince shall ascend the throne many of the maxims of government and institutions of society now in the ascendancy will, according to present probabilities, have either entirely passed away, or be on the very verge of change.”
After enlarging on this topic, the Baron lays down that the great and leading question is—whether the education of the Prince should be one which will prepare him for approaching events, or one which will stamp, perhaps indelibly, an impression of the sacred character of all existing institutions on his youthful mind, and teach him that to resist change is to serve at once the cause of God and of his country. Baron Stockmar recommends the former course, but he utters the warning that:—
“The education of the Prince should, however, nowise tend to make him a demagogue or a moral enthusiast, but a man of calm, profound, comprehensive understanding, imbued with a deep conviction of the indispensable necessity of practical morality to the welfare of both Sovereign and people. The proper duty of the Sovereign in this country is not to take the lead in change, but to act as a balance-wheel on the movements of the social body. When the whole nation, or a large majority of it, advances, the King should not stand still; but when the movement is too partial, irregular, or over-rapid, the royal power may with advantage be interposed to restore the equilibrium. Above all attainments, the Prince should be trained to freedom of thought and a firm reliance on the inherent power of sound principles, political, moral, and religious, to sustain themselves and produce practical good when left in possession of a fair field of development.”
As regards the religious faith in which the future King was to be brought up, the law prescribed that of the Church of England, and Baron Stockmar therefore does not discuss that point, but he does put a question arising out of it, which naturally seemed in that year—1846—more difficult than it would seem nowadays. The Baron asks in effect whether the Prince should be made acquainted with the changes then going on in public opinion in regard to matters of faith, and the important influence on the minds of educated men which the discoveries of science were likely to exert in the future? Without suggesting a definite answer to his own question, the Baron goes on to say:—
“The Prince should early be taught that thrones and social order have a stable foundation in the moral and intellectual faculties of man; that by addressing his public exertions to the cultivation of these powers in his people, and by taking their dictates as the constant guides of his own conduct, he will promote the solidity of his empire and the prosperity of his subjects. In one word, he should be taught that God, in the constitution of the mind and in the arrangement of creation, has already legislated for men, both as individuals and as nations; that the laws of morality, which he has written in their nature, are the foundations on which, and on which alone, their prosperity can be reared; and that the human legislator and sovereign have no higher duty than to discover and carry into execution these enactments of Divine legislation.”
Queen Victoria and Prince Albert also consulted the Bishop of Oxford (Dr. Wilberforce) and Sir James Clark, both of whom recorded their views in long and carefully considered papers, in which they came to conclusions substantially the same as those of Baron Stockmar. On these principles, therefore, King Edward VII. was educated, namely, that the best way to build up a noble and princely character was to bring it into intelligent sympathy with the best movements of the age.
After some further discussion Prince Albert opened negotiations with Mr. Henry Birch, afterwards rector of Prestwich, near Manchester, the gentleman who was ultimately entrusted with the responsible position of tutor to the future ruler of the British Empire. This young man had been educated at Eton, where he had been captain of the school and obtained the Newcastle medal. He had taken high honours at Cambridge, and had then gone back to Eton as an assistant master.
The Prince Consort had an interview with Mr. Birch in August 1848, and says in a letter to Lord Morpeth, “The impression he has left upon me is a very favourable one, and I can imagine that children will easily attach themselves to him.” Writing to his stepmother, the Dowager Duchess of Gotha, in April 1849, Prince Albert observed:—
“Bertie will be given over in a few weeks into the hands of a tutor, whom we have found in a Mr. Birch, a young, good-looking, amiable man, who was a tutor at Eton, and who not only himself took the highest honours at Cambridge, but whose pupils have also won especial distinction. It is an important step, and God’s blessing be upon it, for upon the good education of Princes, and especially of those who are destined to govern, the welfare of the world in these days very greatly depends.”
During the years 1848 to 1850 a Mr. George Bartley, well known at that time as an actor, was engaged to read at Buckingham Palace translations of the Antigone and the trilogy of Œdipus. Queen Victoria was so much pleased with the ability which Mr. Bartley showed that she engaged him to give lessons in elocution to her eldest son, who certainly profited by them, to judge by the ability which His Majesty afterwards showed as a public speaker.
In the summer of 1849 King Edward VII. visited Ireland for the first time. He landed with his parents at Queenstown, and received a splendid welcome, which probably laid the foundation of his hearty sympathy with and liking for the Irish character. Queen Victoria, after vividly describing the enthusiasm with which the Royal visitors were greeted at Dublin, Cork, and elsewhere, writes in her Journal on 12th August:—
“I intend to create Bertie ‘Earl of Dublin,’ as a compliment to the town and country; he has no Irish title, though he is born with several Scotch ones (belonging to the heirs to the Scotch throne, and which we have inherited from James VI. of Scotland and I. of England); and this was one of my father’s titles.”
Accordingly the Prince of Wales was soon afterwards gazetted Earl of Dublin, but in the peerage of the United Kingdom, not, as had been done in the case of the Duke of Kent, in the peerage of Ireland.
It is a curious fact that King Edward visited Ireland, and, as we have seen, Cornwall, Wales, and Scotland, and made an excellent impression upon the “Celtic fringe” before he was brought before the public notice of his future English subjects.
He made his first official appearance in London on 30th October 1849. It had been arranged that Queen Victoria was to be present at the opening of the Coal Exchange, but she was not able to go as she was suffering from chicken-pox. Accordingly it was arranged that the Princess Royal and the Prince of Wales should represent their Royal mother.
“Puss and the boy,” as the Queen called them, went with their father in State from Westminster to the city in the Royal barge rowed by twenty-six watermen. All London turned out to meet the gallant little Prince and his pretty sister. Lady Lyttelton, in a letter to Mrs. Gladstone, gives a charming account of the event, and tells how the Prince Consort was careful to put the future King forward. Some city dignitary addressed the young Prince as “the pledge and promise of a long race of Kings,” and, says Lady Lyttelton, “poor Princey did not seem to guess at all what he meant.” In honour of the Royal children a great many quaint old city customs were revived, including a swan barge, and both the King and the Empress Frederick seem to have retained a very delightful recollection of their first sight of the City.
It must have been about this time that Miss Alcott, the author of Little Women, paid a visit to London, and sent home to her family the following description of the Prince:—
“A yellow-haired laddie, very like his mother. Fanny, W., and I nodded and waved as he passed, and he openly winked his boyish eye at us, for Fanny with her yellow curls and wild waving looked rather rowdy, and the poor little Prince wanted some fun.”
Two years later the King was present at the opening of the Great Exhibition of 1851, and in the following year Mr. Birch retired from his responsible post, greatly to the sorrow of his young pupil, who was a most affectionate and open-hearted little boy.
In June 1852 Viscountess Canning wrote from Windsor Castle:—
“Mr. Birch left yesterday. It has been a terrible sorrow to the Prince of Wales, who has done no end of touching things since he heard that he was to lose him three weeks ago. He is such an affectionate, dear little boy; his little notes and presents, which Mr. Birch used to find on his pillow, were really too moving.”
As was natural, there were many discussions as to who should become the Prince’s next tutor. On the recommendation of Sir James Stephen, Mr. Frederick W. Gibbs was appointed. He remained in his responsible position till 1858, and was rarely separated from his Royal pupil during those seven years.
But although so much attention was devoted to the education and mental training of the King, he spent a very happy and unclouded childhood; and, like all his brothers and sisters, he retained the happiest memories of the youthful days spent by him at Balmoral, Osborne, and Windsor.
The Baroness Bunsen in her Memoirs gives a charming account of a Masque devised by the Royal children in honour of the anniversary of the Queen and the Prince Consort’s marriage. King Edward, then twelve years old, represented Winter. He wore a cloak covered with imitation icicles, and recited some passages from Thomson’s Seasons. Princess Alice was Spring, scattering flowers; the Princess Royal, Summer; Prince Alfred, Autumn; while Princess Helena, in the rôle of St. Helena, the mother of Constantine, who was, according to tradition, a native of Britain, called down Heaven’s benedictions on her much-loved parents.
Shortly before this pretty scene took place, King Edward had made his first appearance in the House of Lords, sitting beside his Royal mother upon the Throne. It was on this occasion that the addresses of the two Houses in answer to the Queen’s Message announcing the beginning of hostilities in the Crimean War were presented, and there is no doubt that the sad and terrible months that followed made a deep and lasting impression on the King’s mind. He took the most vivid interest in the fortune of the war, and in March 1855 went with his parents to the Military Hospital at Chatham, where a large number of the wounded had recently arrived from the East.
The popular concern was exhibited in many ingenious and touching ways. An exhibition was held at Burlington House in aid of the Patriotic Fund, and all the Royal children who were old enough sent drawings and paintings, the King’s exhibit obtaining the very considerable sum of 55 guineas.
The worst of the terrible struggle was over by the time King Edward and the Empress Frederick accompanied their parents to Paris in August of the same year. The visit was in many ways historically eventful. Queen Victoria was the first British Sovereign to enter Paris since the days of Henry VI., and the Royal Party received a truly splendid welcome. The young Prince and his sister, however, were not allowed to be idle, and, though they shared to a great extent in the entertainments organised in honour of Queen Victoria and the Prince Consort, their headquarters remained the whole time in the charming country palace of St. Cloud, and after sightseeing in Paris all day, they were always driven back there each evening. It is undoubtedly to the impression left by this visit that the King owes his strong affection and liking for France and the French people. When present at a splendid review, held in honour of Queen Victoria, he attracted quite as much attention as any of his elders, for he was dressed in full Highland costume, and remained in the carriage with his mother and the Empress, while the Emperor and Prince Consort were on horseback.
The British Royal party remained in France eight days. The last gala given in their honour was a splendid ball at Versailles, and on this occasion both the Prince of Wales and the Princess Royal were allowed to be present, and sat down to supper with the Emperor and Empress. A dance had not been given at Versailles since the days of Louis XVI.
One of the most pleasing traits in Napoleon III.’s character was his great liking for children. As was natural, he paid considerable attention to his youthful guests, who both became much attached to him; and later, when he was living at Chislehurst a broken-hearted exile, King Edward never lost an opportunity of paying him respectful and kindly attentions. Indeed, the King enjoyed his first Continental holiday so heartily that he begged the Empress to get leave for his sister and himself to stay a little longer after his parents were gone home. When with some embarrassment she replied that Queen Victoria and the Prince Consort would not be able to do without their two children, he exclaimed, “Not do without us! don’t fancy that, for there are six more of us at home, and they don’t want us”; but it need hardly be added that this naïve exclamation did not have the desired effect, and the young people duly returned home with their parents.
A few days later, the Prince Consort, writing to Baron Stockmar, observed: “You will be pleased to hear how well both the children behaved. They made themselves general favourites, especially the Prince of Wales, qui est si gentil.” And on the same topic Prince Albert wrote to the Duchess of Kent: “I am bound to praise the children greatly. They behaved extremely well and pleased everybody. The task was no easy one for them, but they discharged it without embarrassment and with natural simplicity.”
When the King was fourteen he started on an incognito walking tour in the West of England with Mr. Gibbs and Colonel Cavendish. His father wrote to Baron Stockmar: “Bertie’s tour has hitherto gone off well and seems to interest him greatly.” Then followed a short time spent in Germany, as to which Prince Albert wrote to Baron Stockmar on 26th July, 1857: “Bertie set out to-day at noon for Königswinter—he will take a week to get there. Of the young people only Lord Derby’s son will go with him in the first instance; Wood, Cadogan, and Gladstone will follow.”
This visit of the Prince of Wales to Königswinter was for purposes of study, and he had with him General Grey, Colonel (afterwards General) H. Ponsonby his domestic tutor, Mr. Gibbs his classical tutor, the Rev. Charles Tarver (afterwards Canon of Chester), and Dr. Armstrong. During the Prince’s stay at Königswinter Mr. W. Gladstone, Mr. Charles Wood (now Lord Halifax), the present Lord Cadogan, and the present Lord Derby, then Mr. Frederick Stanley, were with him as companions. It may be conveniently recorded here that in 1858, when Mr. F. W. Gibbs retired, Mr. Tarver was appointed the Prince’s Director of Studies and Chaplain, in which capacity he accompanied him to Rome, Spain, and Portugal, and then went with him to Edinburgh, remaining with the Prince till the autumn of 1859, when his education ceased to be conducted at home.