Welcome back to The Deep Dive, where we extract
the core insights and surprising stories from
the deepest corners of history. Hello. Today,
we are immersing ourselves completely in the
life of a woman whose reign of 63 years didn't
just passively span decades. It actively defined
an entire global era. The Victorian era. And
set the stage for the modern monarchy, Queen
Victoria. That's such an accurate framing. I
mean, when we talk about the Victorian era, we
are talking about a time marked by, well, dizzying
industrial innovation, seismic political and
constitutional change in the UK, massive scientific
leaps, and of course, the unparalleled expansion
of the British Empire. And Victoria was the symbolic
figurehead, the literal embodiment of this relentless
forward motion. She really was. And what an astonishing
set of titles she accrued. She reigned as Queen
of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland.
But then later she took on that monumental additional
title. Empress of India. Exactly. She presided
over an empire so vast that famously the sun
truly never set on it. She was at the same time
a local sovereign and a global superpower. But
you have to remember her influence wasn't just
geopolitical. It was intensely familial. Ah,
the grandmother of Europe. That's the one. She
earned that nickname for a reason. Her nine children
successfully married into royal and noble families
across the entire continent. Spreading the British
royal bloodlines and, crucially, the house of
Saxe -Coburg and Gotha. Into Spain, Russia, Prussia,
you name it. This made her not just Queen of
Britain, but practically the central hub for
all of European royalty. The sources we've pulled
for this deep dive are just incredibly rich.
We're drawing from comprehensive biographies,
historical accounts of her court. And her own
journals, which are voluminous and intimate.
Yes. So our mission today is to move past that
dour, stereotypical image we all have in our
heads. The perpetually grieving widow in black.
And instead, understand the critical, surprising
personal details and political shifts that enabled
this. privately emotional, sometimes highly secluded
and fiercely determined woman to morph into the
public moral matriarch of a sprawling global
empire. And to understand that metamorphosis,
you have to start at the very beginning because
her birth itself was steeped in political panic
and dynastic crisis. So let's unpack the circumstances
leading to her arrival. Victoria was born Alexandrina
Victoria. at Kensington Palace on May 24, 1819.
But her parents were essentially rushed into
marriage to produce her, right? Absolutely. The
British monarchy under George III and his sons
was facing a catastrophic lack of legitimate
heirs. A real crisis. It came to a head with
the death of Princess Charlotte of Wales in 1817.
She was the only legitimate grandchild of George
III at that point. And her death left the succession
just hanging by a thread. It did. And this forced
the remaining elder sons of George III, who had
previously enjoyed rather profligate Get lifestyles.
Including Victoria's father, Prince Edward, the
Duke of Kent. Exactly. It forced them to hastily
marry and produce legitimate children. So Victoria's
very existence was a political necessity. It
was driven by this desperation to secure the
dynasty. Precisely. Her father was George III's
fourth son, and her mother, Princess Victoria
of Saxe -Coburg -Saalfeld, was already a widow
with two children from a prior marriage. And
when she was christened, she was named Alexandrina,
after Tsar Alexander I of Russia, and Victoria.
after her mother. Yes. At birth, she was fifth
in line, which might sound secure, but the remaining
lives ahead of her were, well, they were frail.
The lineage ahead of her just collapsed almost
immediately. Her father, the Duke of Kent, died
suddenly in January 1820, less than a year after
her birth. Wow. And just a week later... Her
grandfather, King George III, died. The pace
of succession was breathtaking. That rapid ascent
meant she was quickly third in line, behind two
uncles, Frederick, Duke of York, and William,
Duke of Clarence. And crucially, neither of those
men had surviving legitimate children. I see.
So, when Frederick died in 1827, and then George
IV died in 1830, William became King William
IV. Making Victoria, at age 11, the official
heir presumptive. The stakes were literally life
and death for the future of the House of Hanover.
That immense pressure, combined with her mother's
immediate widowhood, led to what Victoria later
described as a rather melancholy childhood. Yes.
She was raised in astonishing isolation at Kensington
Palace under a regime that sounds like something
out of a prison diary. The Kensington system.
It was an incredible structure of control, wasn't
it? It really was. The system was devised by
her mother, the Duchess of Kent, and her fiercely
ambitious comptroller, Sir John Conroy. Their
stated goal was protection, but the actual operation...
It seems designed to ensure Victoria was psychologically
weak. And completely dependent on them both,
preventing her from establishing any independent
alliances. And this wasn't just isolation from
court or public life. It was this deeply invasive
physical control. Right. She shared a bedroom
with her mother every single night until the
moment she became queen. The psychological impact
of that. They essentially tried to weaponize
isolation. They did. They cut her off from anyone
they deemed undesirable, which included most
of the royal family. They restricted her social
circle to ensure only Conroy and her mother had
influence. And this dynamic is so key to understanding
her later reign, isn't it? Yeah. She learned
early how to resist overwhelming control. Did
that isolation affect her education? Not in terms
of rigor, no. She had private tutors, was highly
intellectual, and learned French, German, Italian,
and Latin. But interestingly... Despite her mother
being German and her tutors covering multiple
languages, she only spoke English at home. That's
right. And she did show early promise. She wrote
and illustrated a children's story, The Adventures
of Alice Lascelles, when she was just 10. So
she wasn't repressed in creativity, just in personal
autonomy. So we have this sharp, intensely monitored
young woman who sees herself clearly as a pawn.
Which leads directly to the pivotal conflict
over the regency. Right. King William IV, her
uncle, profoundly mistrusted Victoria's mother
and even more so Conroy. And a regency act from
1830 had designated her mother as the potential
regent if William died before Victoria turned
18. And the thought of Conroy and the Duchess
running the country horrified him. He didn't
keep that horror quiet either, did he? No, he
was spectacularly public about it. He declared
quite forcefully that he wished to live until
Victoria's 18th birthday specifically to avoid
that regency. He essentially gave her a deadline
to reach adulthood and assume full sovereignty.
The gauntlet was thrown down and Victoria, despite
her youth, started to exhibit that famous resistance.
She did. Her resistance to Conroy was fierce
and it really came... to a head in 1835 when
she contracted a severe fever. And Conroy and
her mother saw vulnerability as an opportunity.
They relentlessly badgered her while she was
ill, pressuring her to make a formal written
promise to appoint Conroy as her private secretary
immediately upon accession. And she refused.
She fought them off, even in a state of physical
weakness. That moment of refusal, when she was
physically vulnerable but intellectually resolute,
must have cemented her will. It defined her character.
And the pivotal moment arrives on May 24, 1837,
when Victoria turns 18. successfully eliminating
the need for a regency. Less than a month later,
on June 20, William IV died. She was queen. And
the sources are unanimous. Her first act of true
independence was banning Sir John Conroy from
her immediate presence. That iron will, forged
in isolation, immediately manifested in her rule.
It's a profound irony, isn't it? The mother and
Conroy tried to make her weak and dependent.
But the isolation they imposed actually insulated
her political decision -making capacity. and
forced her to develop a fierce self -reliance
that served her reign immediately. That is the
essential takeaway from her childhood. The Kensington
system was the crucible that burned away weakness
and left behind a core of absolute non -negotiable
authority. Let's move to the moment of secession.
It's a beautifully stark image. She is woken
at 6 a .m., alone in her dressing gown, told
the king is dead, and realizing, consequently,
that I am queen. That's solitude. After years
of forced cohabitation, it's such a powerful
symbol of her newfound independence. It marks
the end of her childhood. And it marked an immediate
geographical shift for the monarchy, too. Yes.
Since 1714, Britain had shared a monarch with
the German kingdom of Hanover. However, Hanover
operated under what is known as Salic Law, a
Germanic legal tradition that explicitly prohibited
women from inheriting the throne. So Salic Law
meant the union was severed. Exactly. Victoria
couldn't inherit Hanover. Her deeply unpopular
uncle, Ernest Augustus, Duke of Cumberland, became
King of Hanover, leaving Victoria to focus solely
on the British and Irish crowns. And she was
18. And politically green. So who steps in to
guide this fiercely independent but inexperienced
young sovereign? The Whig Prime Minister, Lord
Melbourne. He became the dominant figure for
her first few years, functioning not just as
a political advisor, but... but really filling
the emotional void left by her father's early
death and the psychological conflict with Conroy.
He became a crucial father figure. He did. The
sources suggest their bond was profound. One
commentator likened his affection for her to
that of a father for a daughter he'd never had.
And that close relationship was essential, but
it also fueled her political dependency, which
led to immediate trouble. Yes, and Melbourne,
though, was destined to be swiftly overshadowed
by the ultimate love match, Prince Albert. Initially,
Victoria was resistant to marriage. She referred
to it as a shocking sickle alternative when Melbourne
first suggested it. Her uncle Leopold, king of
the Belgians, was persistent, though. He'd already
married one of her cousins to Queen Victoria
and saw Albert, his nephew, and her first cousin
as the ideal match. And when Albert of Saxe -Coburg
and Gotha finally visited, Victoria was just
instantly captivated. Oh, she certainly didn't
hold back in her diary. She described him as
extremely handsome, his eyes are large and blue,
and he has a beautiful nose and a very sweet
mouth with fine teeth. She was absolutely smitten.
Completely. And due to her status as reigning
monarch, convention dictated that she had to
propose to him. Which she did in October 1839,
just five days after his arrival. That intensity
really defined their entire relationship. And
their wedding night entry is perhaps one of the
most famous and certainly the most ecstatic.
diary entries of any British monarch. It truly
captures the passion. She wrote that she never,
never spent such an evening. My dearest, dearest,
dear Albert, his excessive love and affection
gave me feelings of heavenly love and happiness
I never could have hoped to have felt before.
He clasped me in his arms and we kissed each
other again and again. It's clear that Albert
quickly replaced Melbourne as her dominant political
advisor and emotional confidant. Very quickly.
And this shift in allegiance didn't go unnoticed
and immediately led to a constitutional clash.
the infamous bedchamber crisis of 1839. This
was a genuine constitutional pressure test for
the young queen. After Melbourne's government
was defeated on a bill concerning Jamaica's constitution,
he resigned. Right. Robert Peel, the incoming
Tory prime minister, insisted on replacing several
of Victoria's ladies of the bedchamber who were,
by convention, the wives of Whig politicians.
And Victoria saw her ladies as personal friends.
not political appointments, which is a legacy
of her isolated childhood where true friendship
was rare. Exactly. She refused Peel's demand.
But this wasn't just a personal spat. It was
a political mistake. How so? Peel insisted he
could not govern unless he had the full confidence
and cooperation of the Queen's household. When
she refused, he resigned, allowing Melbourne
to return temporarily. Wasn't this a massive
constitutional misstep? She was essentially preventing
the formation of a government based on her personal
preference for household staff. It was a clear
demonstration of her inexperience and her loyalty
to Melbourne over the political necessity of
deference to Parliament. The ultimate insight
here, though, is that this personal failure taught
her a critical lesson. That the Crown must remain
politically neutral in government formation.
She never repeated that mistake. It marks the
beginning of her journey toward true constitutional
discretion. Unfortunately, that political learning
curve came alongside a terrible personal scandal.
The Lady Flora Hastings affair in 1839. The scandal
was fueled by the old animosities of the Kensington
system. Because Victoria fiercely resented Sir
John Conroy and that odious Lady Flora, who was
aligned with him and her mother, she readily
believed rumors that Lady Flora's abdominal swelling
was an out -of -wedlock pregnancy. Possibly by
Conroy himself. That was the rumor. It was pure
personal vendetta. Lady Flora was pressured into
an intimate examination where she was found to
be a virgin. And when she died shortly after
from a liver tumor, the press and the Tory opposition
used the tragedy to portray the Queen as heartless
and irresponsible. It was terrible for her image.
The public outcry was severe enough that she
was hissed and jeered in public as Mrs. Melbourne.
Her immense initial popularity was severely damaged.
The volatile public mood of the 1840s also manifested
in a series of alarming attacks on her person.
Yes, and rather than listing every single one
rapidly, let's focus on the pattern this violence
established. Okay, so the first one by Edward
Oxford in 1840. actually had the reverse political
effect, didn't it? It did. It increased her popularity
by generating public sympathy. The threat galvanized
public support. But the subsequent attempts really
cemented her personal image as fearless. Right.
Think about John Francis in 1842. He aimed a
pistol at her carriage, but it misfired. And
what did the queen do the next day? This is an
incredible story. It's really interesting. Victoria,
determined to bait the assailant into trying
again so he could be caught red -handed, drove
the exact same route the very next day. At the
same time. But much faster and with a larger
escort. She was deliberately challenging the
threat. That is extraordinary bravery. She essentially
used herself as bait. And it worked. He fired
again, but was immediately seized. And there
were more attempts after that. Yes. Later that
year, John William Bean tried to shoot her, though
his pistol was only loaded with paper and tobacco.
Later, William Hamilton, in 1849, fired a powder
-filled pistol, and then Robert Pate in 1850.
He had actually struck her. He did, with a cane,
crushing her bonnet and bruising her forehead.
And Pate and Hamilton were sentenced to seven
years' transportation. For our listeners who
might not be familiar with that older legal term,
what does transportation mean in this context?
It means exile to a penal colony, usually in
Australia. They weren't just jailed in England.
They were shipped overseas to serve their sentence.
The severity of the punishment reflects the seriousness
with which the Crown viewed these attacks, even
if the weapons were ineffective. The key takeaway,
though, is that the queen refused to allow these
repeated threats to stop her from appearing in
public, which ultimately solidified her reputation
for constitutional resilience. Moving to her
personal life, despite the intense romance with
Albert, the sources are quite clear that she
loathed pregnancy. She did. Nine children in
17 years, and she called babies ugly. She was
very blunt in her journals. She hated the physical
demands of pregnancy, the vulnerability of it.
And viewed breastfeeding with disgust, preferring
wet nurses. Yet this personal discomfort led
to a groundbreaking moment in medical history.
The use of chloroform. Precisely. During the
birth of her eighth child, Prince Leopold, in
1853, she demanded the use of the new anesthetic,
chloroform. And this was incredibly controversial
at the time. Very. Why the controversy? It sounds
like an obvious medical benefit. There was major
religious opposition, which argued that relieving
the pain of childbirth went against the biblical
decree that women must labor in sorrow. And medical
caution as well? Yes, about the potential unknown
long -term effects. But Victoria was so relieved
by the pain reduction that she... demanded it
again four years later for the birth of Beatrice.
Effectively legitimizing the use of obstetric
anesthesia for women across Britain and Europe.
Her personal decision had a massive global health
impact. That is a remarkable transition, moving
from a deeply personal medical choice to one
of the biggest national tragedies of her reign,
the Great Famine in Ireland. Between 1845 and
1849, a million died, a million emigrated. It
was an unparalleled disaster and it permanently
scarred Anglo -Irish relations. And Victoria
Romaine's controversial often labeled the famine
queen, leading to persistent myths about her
indifference. Right. We need to address one of
those myths directly. The idea that she only
donated five pounds. That's just completely untrue.
That myth is thoroughly debunked by the sources.
She personally donated two thousand pounds to
the British Relief Association in January 1847,
which was a staggering sum equivalent to hundreds
of thousands of modern pounds and significantly
more than any other individual private donor.
So while the crown was politically and structurally
incapable of preventing the disaster, her personal
philanthropy was genuine. It was. Furthermore,
she supported the Maynooth grant, providing funds
to a Roman Catholic seminary in Ireland, which
was a politically fraught decision given the
significant anti -Catholic sentiment among the
British Protestant establishment at the time.
So her actions in Ireland showed genuine concern,
even if the government response was inadequate.
I think so. Shifting to international relations,
she was highly proactive, especially in trying
to cultivate peace with France. Yes, she was
a keen diplomat. Her visits to King Louis Philippe
I in 1843 and 1845 were landmark moments. Making
her the first reigning British monarch to visit
a French monarch since the field of the cloth
of gold in 1520. She valued these personal connections,
but her strong interest in foreign policy often
put her in direct conflict with her own ministers,
most notably the aggressive and willful foreign
secretary, Lord Palmerston. Victoria despised
Palmerston's unilateral style. She complained
that he acted entirely without consulting her
or the cabinet. This was a direct challenge to
what Walter Bagehot would later codify as the
monarch's constitutional rights. The right to
be consulted, the right to encourage, and the
right to warn. So she saw him as infringing upon
the very limited constitutional power she still
held. Precisely. She viewed it as a constitutional
breach. She complained incessantly to the Prime
Minister, Lord Russell, demanding Palmerston's
removal. And the clash finally culminated in
1851. It did, when Palmerston recognized Louis
-Napoleon Bonaparte's coup in France without
consulting anyone. Victoria successfully orchestrated
his removal. She used her power to warn and consult
to great effect there. But politics is cyclical,
especially when war comes knocking. Indeed. The
poor management of the Crimean War led to the
collapse of the government in early 1855. And
despite Victoria's profound personal distrust
and animosity toward Palmerston, she had no choice
but to appoint him as prime minister, as neither
of the other contenders could command sufficient
parliamentary support. This was a critical lesson.
Even the queen's strongest preferences must yield
to political necessity and the will of the commons.
Absolutely. And despite her struggles with him,
she continued her diplomatic efforts with France,
returning a visit to Napoleon III in 1855, attending
a massive ball at Versailles. It shows her ability
to separate personal political feeling from the
needs of the state. We now arrive at 1861, which
stands as the single most psychologically devastating
year of Victoria's life. A calamity that utterly
reset her identity and the character of the British
monarchy for generations. Two profound personal
losses occurred in quick succession. First, the
death of her mother in March. And this death
was deeply complicated. Victoria had spent most
of her life estranged from her mother due to
the machinations of the Kensington system. But
upon her mother's death, Victoria read her private
papers and was stunned to realize the depth of
her mother's love for her, which she felt had
been entirely obscured. That must have been a
crushing realization. It caused tremendous heartbreak
and profound guilt. She immediately redirected
her blame, holding Conroy and Leighton responsible
for what she saw as their wicked estrangement
during those critical formative years. She carried
that emotional burden heavily. And then came
the devastating loss in December. Prince Albert
died. Albert had been unwell, suffering from
chronic stomach issues, but his death was diagnosed
as typhoid fever. Yes, but Victoria, in her grief,
she personalized the loss. She rejected the medical
diagnosis and clung instead to the belief that
Albert was killed by that dreadful business.
The worry and stress caused by their son, Albert
Edwards, Bertie's philanderings. Albert had traveled
to Cambridge to confront Bertie shortly before
falling ill, and Victoria blamed the stress of
that confrontation for his death. The intensity
of her grief was immediately visible to the public.
Utter devastation. She plunged into a state of
deep, perpetual mourning, wearing black for the
remaining 40 years of her life. And crucially,
she avoided public appearances almost entirely,
retreating to her private residences at Windsor,
Osborne, and Belmoral. This self -imposed isolation
is how she earned the famous nickname Widow of
Windsor. But this wasn't just a personal retreat.
It had enormous constitutional and political
consequences. It did. The queen's absence severely
diminished the popularity of the monarchy and
created a vacuum that fueled a powerful Republican
movement throughout the 1860s and 1870s. Right.
For the middle and working classes who were experiencing
massive cultural shifts, a monarch who refused
to perform her public duties seemed irrelevant.
The political commentary at the time was scathing.
reflecting that sentiment. Scathing in public.
In March 1864, an anonymous person actually posted
a notice on the railings of Buckingham Palace.
Anna read. These commanding premises to be let
or sold in consequence of the late occupants
declining business. That kind of direct public
hostility shows how vulnerable the monarchy had
become due to her seclusion. So how did the monarchy
pull back from that abyss? What brought the widow
of Windsor back into public favor? It was a very
gradual process urged on by her family, including
her uncle Leopold. She made token appearances
like a drive through London or attending parliament
in 1866. But the real turning point was another
medical crisis. the Prince of Wales contracted
typhoid fever, the same disease that supposedly
killed Albert. In late 1871, at the peak of the
Republican movement, the public feared a repeat
of Albert's death. Exactly. And the genuine public
anxiety showed that people still cared about
the royal family as individuals. When Bertie
recovered in early 1872, the response was generalized
rejoicing. That relief was channeled into massive
expressions of public loyalty. It was essential
for the crown's survival. The recovery was celebrated
with a huge public parade and a grand service
of Thanksgiving in St. Paul's Cathedral in February
1872. Effectively silencing the Republican movement
for years. And almost bizarrely, a harmless assassination
attempt two days later further solidified that
public goodwill. Right. Arthur O 'Connor, a 17
-year -old, aimed an unloaded pistol at her carriage.
And the public reaction was overwhelming loyalty
and sympathy for the queen. The monarchy's...
Popularity was reestablished, ironically, not
through the queen performing her duties, but
through shared anxiety and relief over her son
and sympathy following yet another attack. As
she navigated this return to public life, she
was cultivating highly controversial personal
relationships and her private life, relationships
that defied court sensibilities. Let's talk about
John Brown. John Brown was a Scottish manservant.
who became Victoria's indispensable personal
attendant throughout the 1860s and beyond. He
developed an unparalleled closeness to the queen,
leading to those widespread, persistent rumors
of a romantic attachment or even a secret, non
-formal marriage. Rumors that led to her being
called Mrs. Brown. in court circles. Correct.
The court was scandalized by his easy familiarity,
his occasional impudence, and the immense trust
Victoria placed in him. And she publicly affirmed
his importance in her published work, Leaves
from the Journal of Our Life in the Highlands.
Yes, she did. These deep, intense emotional bonds,
first with Albert, then with Brown, were clearly
personal necessities for the Queen. But were
they politically savvy? No, not at all. They
weren't politically savvy. They were an emotional
reaction to profound loss. Victoria's intense
need for connection, dating back to the emotional
vacuum of her childhood, overruled political
prudence. She needed a link to the past. And
Brown was a touchstone of her life with Albert
at Belmoral. Exactly. And after Brown's death
in 1883, the true extent of her devotion was
revealed when she intended to publish a highly
eulogistic biography about him. And her advisors
stepped in. to prevent that. They panicked. Her
private secretary, Sir Henry Ponsonby, and the
Dean of Windsor convinced her to destroy the
manuscript, fearing it would reignite the Mrs.
Brown rumors. And severely damage the recovered
image of the monarchy. Right. She eventually
compromised by publishing a sequel, More Leaves,
dedicated to her devoted personal attendant and
faithful friend, John Brown. But the full, unfiltered
tribute to Brown was censored by her own court.
While navigating these emotional and public crises,
She was simultaneously making a massive geopolitical
maneuver, becoming the Empress of India. This
happened after the Indian Rebellion of 1857.
The rebellion led to the British government dissolving
the East India Company and formally incorporating
its Indian territories and protectorates directly
into the British Empire, which necessitated a
new symbolic title for the sovereign. It did.
And Victoria's role in the proclamation that
followed was actually very balanced for the time,
wasn't it? It was. She condemned atrocities on
both sides of the conflict. Urged by Albert's
previous sensibilities, she insisted that the
official proclamation announcing the transfer
of power should breathe feelings of generosity,
benevolence, and religious toleration. She personally
ensured that language threatening the undermining
of native religions and customs was removed,
guaranteeing religious freedom instead. And this
political act of consolidation was championed
by her favorite prime minister, Benjamin Disraeli.
Disraeli, whom she adored, pushed through the
Royal Titles Act of 1876, granting her the title
Empress of India from May 1st, 1876. This title.
Formerly proclaimed of the Delhi Durbar, solidified
her identity as the ruler of a subcontinent and
dramatically cemented her public image as the
head of an unparalleled imperial force. We now
move to her later reign. As queen and empress,
Victoria's long life meant working with a huge
roster of political figures. But none were more
important or more illustrative of her political
preferences than her two great rivals, Benjamin
Disraeli and William Urich Gladstone. The contrast
in her feelings toward these two men highlights
her deeply personal, almost idiosyncratic approach
to governance. She absolutely adored Disraeli.
He was a master of charm and flattery. Oh, yes.
I love that quote about his approach to royalty.
He said, everyone likes flattery, and when you
come to royalty, you should lay it on with a
trowel. He certainly did, and she loved it. He
flattered her by referring to them as we authors,
ma 'am, referencing her published journals. This
personal connection, this ability to make her
feel consoled. It did. She also strongly endorsed
his expansionist foreign policy, living firmly
that Britain had to maintain its global status
and consequently must be prepared for attacks
and wars continually. This political alignment
was clearly about personality as much as policy.
because she hated Gladstone. She truly detested
him. She complained that his demeanor was far
less appealing, finding him overly earnest and
moralizing. Her most famous complaint was that
he spoke to her as though she were a public meeting
rather than a woman. He treated her as a constitutional
office. Disraeli treated her as a person. And
this personal animosity translated into attempts
to interfere with his government's composition,
even late in her reign. Yes. When Gladstone returned
to power after the 1892 general election, she
successfully objected to his proposal to appoint
the radical MP Henri Labouchere to the cabinet.
She leveraged her right to be consulted and warned
into an effective veto based entirely on her
political discomfort with the man. She openly
considered Gladstone's subsequent ministry the
worst I have ever had and never forgave him for
what she considered his reckless policy in the
Sudan. Specifically blaming him for the death
of General Gordon during the siege of Khartoum.
Exactly. The evidence of her preference is literally
set in stone. It is. After Disraeli died in 1881,
she erected a memorial tablet dedicated by his
great - sovereign and friend, Victoria R .I.
She made sure the world knew he was her friend,
not just a minister. These later years were defined
by enormous, joyous public celebrations, the
Jubilees, which effectively signaled the complete
success of the monarchy's popular recovery after
the years of seclusion. The Golden Jubilee in
1887, marking 50 years on the throne, was a colossal
affair. The banquet hosted 50 kings and princes,
demonstrating her re -established international
prominence and the stability of the institution.
And it was shortly after this jubilee that she
brought in her second highly controversial confidant,
Abdul Karim, who became known as the Mushi. Kareem
was one of two Indian Muslims hired as waiters,
but Victoria rapidly promoted him, making him
her munshi, or teacher, instructing her in Urdu.
This relationship replicated the emotional necessity
she found in John Brown, and it triggered an
equally tremendous uproar among her family and
her retainer. They weren't just jealous, they
were suspicious. They accused him of lying about
his parentage and background, spying for a political
organization, and notably, they exhibited blatant
racial bias against him. Complaining he favored
Hindus over Muslims. Right. Her own equerry,
Frederick Ponsonby, reported that the Munchie
occupies very much the same position as John
Brown used to do. So she had these intense, emotionally
necessary but politically unwise relationships
with men who fell outside the rigid court structure.
And she dismissed her court's outcry as simple
prejudice. She supported him fiercely, despite
the internal chaos and the family's attempts
to have him expelled. She even wrote that the
complaints were rooted in racial prejudice. Karim
remained in her service, teaching her Urdu until
her death. He did. Ten years later came the ultimate
spectacle of imperial power, the Diamond Jubilee
in 1897. This was deliberately framed as a festival
of the British Empire at the suggestion of colonial
secretary Joseph Chamberlain. The scale was unprecedented.
It was a massive demonstration of global might.
Prime ministers of all self -governing dominions
were invited to London. And critically, foreign
heads of state were excluded. Yes, and that was
deliberate diplomacy driven by Victoria's personal
feelings. She wanted to avoid inviting her eldest
grandchild, Wilhelm II, the German emperor. Who
she considered autocratic. and who, she believed,
lacked what she called little heart or zartgefühl.
Zartgefühl. What exactly does that German word
imply here? It translates roughly as tact, delicacy,
or sensitivity. She felt Wilhelm II was boorish,
arrogant, and lacked the subtlety necessary for
statecraft. So by excluding foreign heads of
state, she avoided a public diplomatic incident
with a relative she found deeply distasteful.
It shows that her personal opinions still significantly
influenced state protocol. The Jubilee procession
was six miles long, a true spectacle. Yet the
queen herself, due to failing health, couldn't
even participate fully. No, she was 78 and suffering
terribly. She'd been plagued by lameness and
rheumatism since falling downstairs in 1883,
and her weight had increased significantly due
to comfort eating. She was unable to climb the
steps of St. Paul's Cathedral for the service.
So the service had to be held outdoors, and she
remained seated in her open carriage. It was
a poignant image of the immovable elderly empress
presiding over an endlessly changing world. The
final years of her life were marked by increasing
frailty. Her health declined rapidly. In addition
to rheumatism and weight issues, her eyesight
was failing due to cataracts. She spent her final
Christmas of 1900 at Osborne House feeling weak,
drowsy, and confused. She died on January 22,
1901 at the age of 81 at Osborne House. Her son,
Edward VII, and her difficult grandson, Wilhelm
II, were at her bedside. Her final instructions
for her funeral were highly symbolic of her life.
They were. She insisted on a military funeral.
befitting a soldier's daughter and the head of
the army. And she used to be dressed in white,
completely abandoning the black she had worn
for 40 years of mourning. But the small secret
details of her burial truly reveal the emotional
core of her life. They reveal everything the
court tried to repress. Exactly. Hidden beneath
a carefully positioned bunch of flowers in her
left hand and concealed from the family's view
were an array of mementos that bridged her two
great emotional pillars. One of Albert's dressing
gowns, a plaster cast of his hand. And a lock
of John Brown's hair, Brown's picture, and John
Brown's mother's wedding ring, which Brown had
given Victoria in 1883. She ensured her two closest
companions went with her. She was the last monarch
of the House of Hanover. That's right. Victoria's
reign was so long and transformative that her
legacy is essentially the blueprint for the modern
monarchy. Let's start with the lighter side,
the persistent myth of we are not amused. It's
a complete fabrication. She actively denied ever
saying it, and her staff's journals frequently
recorded that she was immensely amused and roared
with laughter often. The image of the constantly
grim puritanical monarch is largely inaccurate,
fueled by her long period of seclusion. Right.
More substantially, her most enduring legacy
is biological and cultural. She is literally
the grandmother of Europe, and she firmly established
the concept of the family monarchy. And this
concept was vital for the survival of the crown.
You have to remember, her predecessors, George
IV and William IV, were associated with serious
scandal, excessive debt and dissolute living.
Victoria's family monarchy emphasized morality,
piety and stable family values. And why was that
emphasis on morality so important to the audience?
Because it appealed directly to the burgeoning
middle classes. These were the pious, industrial,
non -aristocratic people who now formed the backbone
of Britain's prosperity. By presenting the crown
as the ultimate moral familial institution, an
image carefully crafted by Albert Victoria made
the monarchy respectable. Relatable and therefore
politically necessary to this new influential
social group. Politically, her long reign saw
the finalization of the shift to a modern constitutional
monarchy, where the monarch is symbolic rather
than dominant. That process was ongoing, but
Victoria's era finalized it. While she certainly
used her political influence, as seen in the
removal of Palmerston and her objections to Gladstone's
cabinet, the absolute power had definitively
transferred to the House of Commons. And this
shaked is perfectly encapsulated by Walter Badshot's...
1867 analysis of the monarch's residual powers.
He famously defined the monarch's remaining rights
as the right to be consulted, the right to encourage,
and the right to warn. We've seen her use those
rights frequently, but the fact that they had
to be defined so specifically shows just how
far the political pendulum had swung away from
the crown's direct authority. Victoria's long
life helps smooth this transition, ensuring the
monarchy remained a respected, though politically
limited, symbol. It did. Finally, we must address
the royal disease, hemophilia B, which traces
back to her. Her youngest son, Prince Leopold,
was affected by the blood clotting disorder,
and two of her daughters were carriers. Through
their marriages, Victoria became the source of
hemophilia B that spread through several royal
lines across Europe. Including the Spanish, German,
and Russian royal families, famously afflicting
Czarovich Alexei. This biological mystery often
leads to speculation that she was not the daughter
of the Duke of Kent, as the disease was not seen
in her direct ancestors. But the historical records
offer no support for that theory. No, and modern
medical analysis suggests a much simpler and
more likely explanation. Spontaneous mutation.
Hemophilia arises more frequently in children
of older fathers. And the Duke of Kent was over
50 at the time of Victoria's conception. This
condition accounts for about a third of all spontaneous
cases, making her the spontaneous originator
of the disease in the royal line. And one last
piece of legacy, perhaps the most critical for
historians, her voluminous personal writing.
She kept detailed journals for nearly 70 years,
filling 122 volumes averaging 2 ,500 words per
day. It is an unparalleled primary source. But
it comes with a major unfortunate caveat. After
her death, her youngest daughter, Princess Beatrice,
was appointed her literary executor. Beatrice
dutifully transcribed and edited the diaries,
particularly those covering political matters.
And in the process, she burned the originals.
She became the great royal censor. Beatrice filtered
the historical record, ensuring that much of
the raw, unfiltered political maneuvering and
personal opinion of the queen remains partially
obscured. It is the great irony. The Queen, who
documented her life so extensively, left the
final, crucial editorial decision to the one
person who prioritized protecting the royal image
over historical transparency. It really is. We
have successfully synthesized the incredible
life of Queen Victoria, who started isolated
and manipulated under the Kensington system,
yet fought back to become a sovereign who knew
the power of her own will. She found ecstatic
love only to lose it, was transformed by grief
into the secluded widow of Windsor, and finally
emerged as the symbol of an unparalleled global
empire. Successfully ushering the British monarchy
into its modern constitutional role. Her entire
life was a balancing act between intense personal
emotion and absolute public duty. It really was.
We've seen how Victoria's personal choices, from
her initial resistance to her mother and Conroy
to her deep controversial bonds with men like
John Brown and her years of seclusion, directly
shaped the constitutional and cultural power
of the monarchy for the next century. Consider
this provocative thought. If the death of her
father, the Duke of Kent, had occurred just one
single month earlier, she would have inherited
the throne as a minor, necessitating the hated
regency of her mother and Sir John Conroy. Right.
How fundamentally different might the Victorian
era and the entire trajectory of the modern British
monarchy have been had Queen Victoria not spent
her first night as queen alone, free from the
oversight of the Kensington system? Something
to ponder. Something to ponder as you reflect
on this deep dive.