"I wish him to have the title of King Consort," she said earnestly.
"A king consort without the authority of a king would be a novelty," replied the Baron, "and the English people do not like anything for which there is no precedent. Queen Anne's husband was never called king."
"But Queen Anne's husband was stupid and insignificant," declared the Queen. "There has never been a case like ours before. Albert and I reign together. He is sovereign as much as I. We discuss all matters and decide together."
"True," admitted the Baron, "but the constitution does not provide for such a condition of affairs. I will talk with Peel about it."
Peel felt as Stockmar did, that it was not wise to propose such a title. The subject arose again some years later, and the shrewd Baron wrote to the Prince in his usual straightforward fashion: "Never abandon your firm, powerful position to run after butterflies. You have the substance; stick by it." The title was never given him, but it was true that he had "the substance." The Queen no longer met her Ministers alone; the Prince was always with her to help and suggest. Whenever either she or the Prince spoke to the Council the word "I" was not used; it was always "We think so-and-so should be done."
Not only the Council but the whole country were gaining in knowledge of the Prince's wisdom and devotion to the good of the kingdom, and in 1847 a valued mark of appreciation was given him in his election as Chancellor of the University of Cambridge, one of the greatest honors that could have been bestowed upon him. The Queen was delighted, because she knew that the position was not given out of compliment to her, but was something that he himself had earned. Soon after the election, came the installation. The magistrates and Yeomanry went to the station to meet the Queen, and then marched before her into the town. She was escorted into the Great Hall of Trinity College and led to an armchair which stood on a platform under a canopy. Soon after she had seated herself, the new Chancellor entered at the farther end of the hall, followed by the long line of university dignitaries. He wore a robe of black and gold, so long that it had to be held up by two gentlemen. When he stood in front of the armchair that represented the throne, he made a low bow and delivered his address. "The situation was almost absurd for us," said the Queen afterwards, but the Prince read his address with perfect command of his countenance and the Queen was quite serious until she caught his eye for a moment at the end of the speech. She half smiled, but in an instant she was again the dignified sovereign, and she declared with a little emphasis that brought forth shouts of applause, "The choice which the university has made of a Chancellor has my most entire approbation."