An Oriental on Albert the Good

The award of the Nobel Prize to Mr. Rabindranath Tagore is generally approved. I do not entirely agree with those who think that Mr. Tagore’s poems are masterpieces in English; for I find his English poetical prose monotonous and without rhythmical beauty, although, in a sense, immaculate. But those who know the Indian originals say that they are really great, and that they have got a hold on the general population unprecedented for centuries past.

I have just acquired a book by an Indian poet who was not so wise in his choice of subjects as is Mr. Tagore. The book is an English version (made in 1864 by the tutor of Sir J. Jeejeebhoy’s sons, and published by the Bombay Education Society) of an Epic on the Prince Consort by the Parsee poet “Munsookh.” The poem is enlivening if not inspiring.

It opens with the usual Oriental invocation to Heaven, ending “With that remembrance alone will I fill the cup of my heart and sing new and entertaining stories.” It then plunges straight in medias res with a first canto, “On the birth of Prince Albert, his education and arrival at mature years; and his wish to marry Victoria.”

“There is a country of the world called Germany, the eminence of which is known everywhere. In its interior is a large district called the Dukedom of Gotha, about thirty-seven miles in area, and containing about one hundred and fifty thousand inhabitants. The air of this district is pleasant, dry, and cool; and the water refreshing and pure. The land is good and very fertile, and every article of food and clothing is cheap there. In its neighbourhood is the city of Coburg, where the richest blessings of Providence display themselves, near which flows the river Itz, and where is a magnificent ducal castle, having the appropriate name of Rosina, with a garden entirely surrounding it. Here the birth of Albert took place.”

Prince Albert grew up wise and studious, and at last his preceptor said to him: “My accomplished pupil, this is the one hope of my soul, that thou make a hearty effort to be united to the worthy heiress of the Kingdom of England, and if thou do this, thou wilt not be disappointed.... Put in action therefore the effective dagger of contrivance; engraft speedily the plant of love ... lose not thy time, for if thou do thou wilt be considered a fool.”

Queen Victoria’s portrait was sent to Albert, the bearer telling him that he was searching the world for a worthy, loving, and religious prince. “Thou hast administered the medicine for my secret pain,” was the reply, and the Prince wrote a letter acknowledging the present. “When I would write thee a letter,” he said, “the water of my eyes flows from my pen instead of the black ink.... In my feeling of love for thee I am mad: I am a moth flying around a candle.... Though I swim always in a flood of tears, my body is burning to a cinder.” When Victoria’s mother heard about this she was glad, but said that “the hearts of the English people are intoxicated with haughtiness; they despise a stranger and a foreigner ... nor will they consider it honourable that thou should be united in love to a child of Germany.” Various letters passed, but Albert’s father was astonished at his rashness. “Foolish boy, heretofore engrossed in eating, drinking, and learning. Where didst thou get this information and these notions?... A nation proud and haughty like the English will think thee thoroughly mad.” But letters from England convinced the Duke; he admonished his son as to his future behaviour; and the party sailed for the port of London, where “Victoria immediately went upon the terrace.” The lovers met and sang, and the Prince returned home to complete his studies. “A little time after this occurrence the Queen again remembered Albert; she caused a letter, official, and according to rule, to be written to his father.”

“Albert’s father prepared himself at once, taking necessary provisions, furniture, and money. Having sat in a boat Prince Albert went forward accompanied by his family. The gallant vessel floated down the stream, and did not leave her track on the way. From a distance she appeared like an alligator, or like the moon of the second day sailing through the heavens, or like a tree growing in the midst of deep waters, casting its shadows as it moved in a hundred directions; or she was like a horse leaping without feet, and bound only to the surface of the water, so swift and lofty of mien that the sun from afar uttered a shout of approbation. As a lover weeps on account of separation from his beloved, so the ship beating her breast, filled her skirts with water. She sometimes appeared from her motion tired and weary, and the bubbles about her seemed like blisters on the feet. In body she was a strong negress, but in speed lively; in her womb were hundreds of children, yet did she never bear.”

“Albert thought the waves were like an infuriated elephant,” but he arrived safely, and the marriage was celebrated amid general rejoicings.

“The voice of triumph arose from every side with guns and bells and bands of music; in every house, too, arose the heart-charming sounds of cornets, flutes, harps, pianos, and singing of various sorts; cannons boomed from every fort—one making a whirring noise, another a noise like thunder.... So pure became the waters of the Thames that one could see in them the image even of the soul of his body. It was not a river, but as it were a flower garden; and the bodies of the fishes glittered like rose-leaves. Everywhere were clusters of variously decked boats; the vessels were as shaking mountains, which made graceful motions like peacocks coquetting in the garden of Paradise.”

A great banquet followed, and when “the reign of wine” was finished the music began. “Trombones sounded so impressively that letters were imprinted upon the face of the air.” Then came the dancing. “What shall I say of the Mendozas and Polkas? for the philosophic and the pious lost their peace of mind through them.... The Polka was kept up with such zest and excitement that there was a stir among the angels of heaven.... In short, the ball was gracefulness itself which made the stars bite their own bodies with jealousy.” The dead rose up from the ground enamoured of the dancing, and the lamps put their hands over their eyes. The festivities over the royal pair retired and sang to each other.

Next year a princess was born, and all England was merry. Other children followed, and for twenty years the royal pair lived in happiness. In 1843 the Queen and the Prince revisited his native country in a ship furious as a leopard, that broke through hundreds of whales. Home awoke tender thoughts in the Prince. “Collecting himself he sang” a chant comparing himself to Joseph, and his bride to Zuleika—which indicates a somewhat different view of the Potiphar’s wife episode from that prevalent in Occidental circles. The rest of the work is mainly taken up with the Great Exhibition, the Prince’s death, and numerous maxims for the use of his son, such as:

“King must keep entirely aloof from several hurtful things as ... chess.

“A king’s country is like a beautiful woman, and the merchants of that country are, as it were, the precious jewels and ornaments of that woman; and the more these jewels and ornaments are, the more heart-charming and beautiful she looks.”

This last aphorism is disputable.