Great joy at such pleasant sorrows

Queen Victoria to the King of the Belgians

Windsor Castle, 6th February 1844

My dearly beloved Uncle,

You must now be the father to us poor bereaved, heartbroken children. To describe to you all that we have suffered, all that we do suffer, would be difficult; God has heavily afflicted us; we feel crushed, overwhelmed, bowed down by the loss of one who was so deservedly loved, I may say adored, by his children and family; I loved him and looked on him as my own father; his like we shall not see again; that youth, that amiability, and kindness in his own house which was the centre and rendezvous for the whole family, will never be seen again, and my poor Angel's fondest thought of beholding that dearly beloved Vaterhaus—where his thoughts continually were—again is for ever gone and his poor heart bleeds to feel this is for ever gone. Our promised visit, our dearest Papa's, and our fondest wish, all is put an end to. The violence of our grief may be over, but the desolate feeling which succeeds it is worse, and tears are a relief. I have never known real grief till now, and it has made a lasting impression on me. A father is such a near relation, you are a piece of him in fact,—and all (as my poor deeply afflicted Angel says) the earliest pleasures of your life were given you by a dear father; that can never he replaced though time may soften the pang. And indeed one loves to cling to one's grief; I can understand Louise's feeling in her overwhelming sorrows.

Let me now join my humble entreaties to Albert's, relative to the request about dearest Louise, which he has made. It is a sacrifice I ask, but if you knew the sacrifice I make in letting and urging Albert to go, I am sure, if you can you will grant it. I have never been separated from him even for one night, and the thought of such a separation is quite dreadful; still, I feel I could bear it,—I have made up my mind to it, as the very thought of going has been a comfort to my poor Angel, and will be of such use at Coburg. Still, if I were to remain quite alone I do not think I could bear it quietly. Therefore pray do send me my dearly beloved Louise; she would be such a comfort to me; if you could come too—or afterwards (as you promised us a longer visit), that would be still more delightful. I may be indiscreet, but you must think of what the separation from my all and all, even only for a fortnight, will be to me!

We feel some years older since these days of mourning. Mamma is calm, but poor Aunt Julia is indeed much to be pitied. Ever, dearest Uncle, your devoted and unhappy Niece and Child,

Victoria R.

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(Ernst I, Duke of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha, father of Albert and the source of Victoria's excessive displays of grief in early 1844.  Photo credit: royaltyguide.nl)

With this letter, Victoria began a lifelong affair with grief.  She says it herself: “I have never known real grief till now, and it has made a lasting impression on me.” The court was ordered into deepest mourning for a man who was barely known in the country.  And why?  Because Victoria deemed it so.  Not only had Victoria begun her obsession with grief and death, but also that obsession was a very selfish one. 

Ernst I, Duke of Saxe-Coburg & Gotha was sixty at the time of his death.  Stanley Weintraub, one of Albert’s biographers, wrote that the cause of death was Ernst’s “dissipations.”  This could mean just about anything, as Ernst spent his life in constant pursuit of pleasure.  In 1808, he impregnated his fifteen-year-old mistress.  An engagement with a Russian Grand Duchess (Anna Pavlovna, later Queen of the Netherlands) fell through when the Russian court caught wind of Ernst’s womanizing (or girlizing, to be grotesquely specific).  Pauline later wrote a tell-all book in which she claimed Ernst tried to kill her and their son.  After taking his wife Luise’s money and dumping her penniless, Ernst went on to have three more illegitimate children.  It’s truly amazing he lived long enough for disease or poor health to take him rather than die at the hands of a scorned woman. 

Ernst had long been Albert’s only parent (Luise was banished from her children and died of cancer not long after), he was not especially close to either of his sons.  Albert and his brother had grown up more or less in the care of several tutors.  It’s no wonder that Albert and Victoria had found a kinship in one another – each were missing parent, and the one they had left had some major shortcomings. 

And then there was the money.  Ernst (and his oldest son, successor, and namesake) spent his life constantly in massive debt.  Both Ernsts often appealed to their relatives in Britain for financial help.  The elder Ernst attempted to emotionally manipulate his son and daughter-in-law, refusing to visit them due to their refusal to send his requested funds.  Even Albert, upset as he was, returned to Coburg not for his father’s funeral, but to support his brother and his stepmother/cousin, Marie of Württemberg.  It doesn’t seem that Ernst was quite as horribly missed as Victoria seemed to think.

So what exactly was Victoria so upset about?  Perhaps Victoria was wistful of the fact that she had not known her own father, who had died when she was an infant.  She occasionally lamented the fact that she lacked a father figure other than her uncle Leopold.  Maybe the extent of her grief was simply out of concern for Albert, now cut off from his beloved Coburg just a bit more. But she makes barely a cursory mention of the state of her mother and aunt, and does not even acknowledge that Leopold himself has lost a brother. 

Victoria may have also been a bit more vulnerable as she was again pregnant, although in the very earliest stages (Affie was born in early August 1844).  She notes in her letter that Albert had not yet been away from her for even a night during their marriage, and Victoria struggled with depression both during and immediately after her pregnancies. It is unclear if Louise (Leopold’s wife) was able to join Victoria, but such requests were made from Victoria after subsequent deaths, no matter how small. 

Victoria’s intense sadness did not go unnoticed by her peers.  Harriet Granville, one of Victoria’s ladies-in-waiting, found the Queen’s behavior to be bordering on ridiculous.  She wrote icily to the Duke of Devonshire in March, “How rare it is for royalty to have such pleasant sorrows.”  German noblewoman Princess Dorothea von Lieven suspected the grief was a rather cold disguise.  “I imagine that Prince Albert is to receive a big inheritance; she would not have allowed him to leave her for any trivial reason.”  Although with Ernst’s debts it is questionable what inheritance would be waiting for Albert, it’s clear that others were baffled and frustrated by her behavior for a man whom she barely knew.

Albert spent several weeks in Coburg, which must have been torture for Victoria.  His diary entry for April 11 – the day of his return to Britain – is quite short: “Great joy.”  Albert was undoubtedly happy to see his wife and children again, but it’s ironic that Victoria seems to have found hers in mourning.  It was to become a hobby that she took many years of devoted practice to perfect.