It was the first day of May, and two important events were about to take place. First little Arthur’s birthday, for he was just a year old, and secondly the opening of the great Exhibition.
Arthur was in his high chair with his table of presents beside him – his first introduction to what it meant to have a birthday. The children had all brought him gifts and what a pleasure it was to see him so excited. He wanted only Bertie to help him open his packages and it was a very happy family breakfast.
At eleven o’clock the royal party set out for Hyde Park and Victoria could see that, although he hid his emotions under a calm facade, Albert was as nervous and excited as he had been on his wedding day. She herself was reminded of her coronation. Everywhere she looked she could see crowds of people; and everyone was in festive mood. A few drops of rain fell as they were leaving the palace, then the sky cleared and the sun shone brilliantly as the royal procession passed down Rotten Row, and there, gleaming like a great crystal palace (which was what it was called), was the Exhibition – Albert’s Exhibition, for his was the brain which had conceived it and she had seen him absolutely exhausted with the innumerable plans he had made for it. She remembered gleefully how all those stupid people who had decried it and tried to prevent its coming into being had been forced to admit their mistake. Albert was the one who should take the credit.
What a thrill to enter that great gleaming edifice! Bertie held her hand and Vicky clung to her father’s. It was magical! The flowers and the fountains were beautiful. The organ was playing triumphant music and there was an orchestra with two hundred instruments and six hundred singers. When the music stopped the cheers broke out. Cheers for Albert. This was far more magnificent even than the coronation, and Victoria was deeply moved because it was Albert’s creation.
The orchestra began to play God Save the Queen and the tears were in Victoria’s eyes as she listened to those loyal voices. She then declared the Exhibition open. The trumpets sounded and the cheering was deafening.
How much happier was such a peace festival than these foolish riots which had been tormenting the country for some time, and worse still the fearful revolutions of Europe.
Everyone was loud in their praises of the exhibits and the wonderful Crystal Palace with its flowers and statues. The Queen had a word with Paxton, whose genius, guided by Albert, was responsible for the brilliant array. It was particularly wonderful that he had begun his career as a common garden boy.
The old Duke of Wellington put in an appearance. He was eighty-seven on that day and because Arthur had been born on his birthday the Duke had been one of his godparents. He asked permission to call at the palace later as he had some toys and a gold cup for Arthur and the Queen told him that he would be most welcome – not only by the fortunate Arthur who was to be the recipient of such gifts but by them all.
Oh, that was a happy day! To see Albert vindicated gave the Queen the greatest pleasure. She could even be charming to Lord Palmerston when he visited the Exhibition.
‘Is it not a wonderful conception, Lord Palmerston?’ she asked; and even he could find no fault with anything.
What a pleasure to return tired but happy to the palace to receive the Duke of Wellington when he called; and little Arthur, his namesake, was ready with a nosegay of flowers to present to his godfather.
And then to Covent Garden to see The Huguenots and be cheered by the audience.
When at last the day was over and the Queen and Albert were alone she said to him, ‘This is the proudest and happiest day of my happy life.’
Hardly a day passed without the Queen’s visiting the Exhibition. She greatly admired every section and made a great effort to understand the exhibits of machinery when they were explained to her. She drank in all the praise – and now everyone was praising. Royal relations came from overseas to see the wonders of which they had heard so much and among them the Prince and Princess of Prussia, with their son Frederick, who was known as Fritz – a charming young man. Albert was very interested in him because he would one day be the King of Prussia and Albert had set his heart on Vicky’s mounting that throne. If Vicky could not be Queen of England – and that throne must go to Bertie – then Prussia was the next best thing.
Prince Fritz found the Exhibition fascinating and, like the Queen, visited it frequently. He was ten years older than eleven-year-old Vicky so put himself in charge of her, Bertie, Alice and Alfred when they walked round the stands. He was most impressed by the intelligent questions Vicky asked; the others would often stroll off and leave them talking together.
It was the same in the gardens of the palace, Fritz and Vicky often walked together. Victoria and Fritz’s mother were fully aware of this. ‘Of course,’ said the Queen fondly, ‘Vicky is old for her age.’
‘And there is no doubt that Fritz is taken with her.’
‘If he should continue to be …’ The mothers smiled at each other knowingly. The Queen had no qualms; she knew it was just what Albert was hoping for.
At the end of July the family went to Osborne for the heat of the summer, and this, as summer always did, passed too quickly. The Exhibition was to be closed on the 15th of October. The Queen had chosen this date because it was the anniversary of the day she and Albert had become betrothed.
On the 14th she paid her last visit to the Exhibition. It was so moving, particularly when the music played on the Sommerophone, an enormous brass instrument named after the man who had invented it, but of course sad to see the workmen already dismantling Albert’s wonderful creations.
The next day it poured with rain and was, as the Queen said, appropriately wretched. She did not attend the closing ceremony as Albert had said that would not be fitting, so he went alone.
She was delighted to receive a letter from the Prime Minister in which he said:
The grandeur of the conception, the zeal, invention and talent displayed in the execution, and the perfect order maintained from the first day to the last, have contributed together to give imperishable fame to Prince Albert.
The Queen wept with joy when she read those words. Nothing, she declared, could have given her greater pleasure.