Nobody would expect to find Her Royal Highness Queen Elizabeth II taking a nap at Theresa May’s country estate. But in the nineteenth century, when monarchy could get away without being politically neutral, Hughenden Manor, Prime Minister Benjamin Disraeli’s home in Buckinghamshire, received a very important guest. The guest was Queen Victoria. There can be no doubt of the close relationship that ensued between Monarch and Prime Minister: it is said that Disraeli made special arrangements to shorten the legs of one of his dining room chairs in preparation for the Queen’s visit, and rooms of Victoria’s presents to this man who, in her words, was ‘full of poetry, romance and chivalry’ stand testament to this unusual friendship.
Benjamin Disraeli was, in the words of one of Hughenden’s volunteers, “a self-made man”. Although he had a well-off father, he did not come from an aristocratic family and even admitted that he had married for money. Money and connections were crucial for political success in 19thcentury: most politicians came from aristocratic families, and it was often the case that seats were handed down from father to son. Disraeli, who came from a mercantile background and had Jewish origins, was an unusual contender on Britain’s political stage.
Hughenden Manor, less than an hour away from London, offers a private and sometimes peculiar glimpse into the life of Disraeli. As soon as you step in, you notice a large portrait of the poet Byron hanging in one of the rooms. Disraeli, who was an author before he was a politician, modelled himself on the famous poet. And Queen Victoria’s man of “poetry, romance and chivalry” was known to be careful of his appearance, combing his famous dark curls in such a way that one always sat broodingly on his forehead.
But Victoria and Disraeli were not always bosom friends. As historian Edgar Feuchtwanger says, at first “Disraeli was repugnant to Albert and Victoria. But they soon changed their opinion of him.” Disraeli was aware that the Queen could be hugely partisan when it came to politics. After all, at the very beginning of her reign in an affair known as the ‘Bedchamber Crisis’, she had upset the whole government when she refused to change at least some of her ladies in waiting – who were all wives of then-Prime-Minister Melbourne’s Whig friends – for Conservative counterparts.
Victoria changed her opinion of Disraeli after the death of her beloved Albert. In a speech given to the House of Commons, Disraeli spoke warmly of the former regent, claiming “this German Prince has governed England with a wisdom and energy such as none of our Kings have ever shown.” This genuine praise, spoken in a country where many had continued to view Albert as an alien until his death, was enough for Disraeli to earn Queen’s Victoria approval and admiration. She sent Disraeli a bound copy of Albert’s speeches as a present. Thus began the exchange of gifts between Prime Minister and Monarch.
On view at Hughenden are Queen Victoria’s other presents, which range from the ceremonial – an Order of the Garter, Britain’s highest honour – to the weird and wonderful. Most surprising is an exquisitely bound copy of Goethe’s ‘Faust’, illustrated by “an obscure and talented German artist”. It’s a personal gift in a world where formality was encouraged; and a touching reminder of one of Britain’s closest political as well as private partnership.
Hughenden Manor, High Wycombe, is open to the public.
