by Jean Plaidy
She was not going.
She went to the Queen in the unceremonious way which their relationship had made possible.
‘I believe there is a plot afoot,’ she said.
The Queen rose to her feet. She raised her eyebrows. Really, it was true that Lehzen did take advantage of their affection. She knew of course what this meant and feeling very unhappy about it was immediately irritated with Lehzen who made her feel so.
‘Plot, Lehzen. What are you talking about?’
‘The Prince is trying to separate us.’
‘He – and I – are concerned for your health. We think a good long holiday is what you need.’
‘A holiday. What do I want with a holiday? My pleasure is serving you.’
‘That is the point. You have never had a change. That is why the Prince and I have decided you shall have a nice long holiday in Germany.’
‘In Germany!’
‘It is your home, remember.’
‘This is my home.’
‘Now, Daisy dear, do be sensible. You have often talked of your sister and brother in Bückeburg and said how you long to see them. There are your brother’s children too. You will be so happy to see them all again.’
‘And you are quite happy to do without me.’
‘My dear Daisy, I want you to be well and happy. Albert and I have talked it over. Everything will be settled for you. There will be no shortage of money. We want you to be happy, for I shall never forget all you have done for me.’
The Baroness was speechless. It was all arranged. She had thought she was winning this battle against the Prince, but this was his silent victory.
Victoria was happy. There was a new understanding between herself and Albert; she took a pride in her newly acquired humility; it pleased her – and Albert – that she should defer to him in almost everything. Albert was often in the nursery; Pussy’s diet was changed and she began to thrive. Albert was right, of course. The only sadness was poor Lehzen, who was subdued and unlike her old self. She did really treat me as though I were a child in the schoolroom, thought Victoria. It had to stop; and this is the best way of doing it.
Albert had exciting news just after little Albert Edward’s christening.
‘My brother is to be married,’ he said. ‘Dear Ernest!’
‘That is wonderful, Albert. Who is to be his bride?’
‘Princess Alexandrine of Baden.’
‘I do hope they will be as happy as we are because no one could have a more perfect marriage,’ said the Queen, cheerfully ignoring the storm which had only just subsided.
‘That would be asking a great deal,’ replied Albert fondly. ‘My stepmother wishes me to be present. She knows of course that you can’t.’
‘Oh, Albert, you will want to see your brother married, but I shall hate us to be separated.’
‘I shall not go,’ said Albert.
‘Dear Albert, but he is your brother and I know what ties there are between you.’
Leave Court, thought Albert, with Lezhen still there. Who knew what would happen in his absence? This was one of the most significant periods of his life, he was well aware; what happened now could affect the whole future. He would be a fool to go away and leave Victoria with Lezhen. It would be to retire from the battlefield on the point of victory. Besides, what of that terrible sea crossing which he loathed? That he would have endured; but he was certainly not going to leave Victoria until Lehzen had set out on her ‘long holiday’.
‘I shall not go,’ said Albert. ‘I am not going to leave you.’
‘My dear Albert, we must explain to Ernest. He will understand, I’m sure. I have a plan. Let us ask them to spend their honeymoon here. Ernest was here when we were married. He saw our happiness. Now we will suggest that he allows us to see his.’
‘That is a wonderful idea and worthy of my dearest love,’ said Albert; and the Queen glowed with pleasure.
‘When is the wedding to be?’ she asked.
‘The third of May at Carlsruhe.’
‘Then they must come here immediately afterwards.’
Albert said they should invite Ernest without delay.
‘I do hope that Ernest is quite well and er … fit for the marriage,’ he added gravely.
The Queen flushed. She knew Albert was referring to that most unpleasant indisposition Ernest had suffered from at the time of their marriage. It was the result of his brother’s ‘excesses’ Albert had told her. He feared that Ernest could be a little frivolous.
‘Now he is to be married he will be different,’ said the Queen. She looked adoringly at Albert. ‘My dear love,’ she cried fervently, ‘how glad I am that I chose you. Not that I had the smallest doubt in my mind once I had seen you.’
Albert said solemnly that they should be thankful to God for their good fortune … both of them.
The Baroness had been stunned by the manner in which she was being dismissed. A few months before she would not have thought it possible. She had been foolish; she had been deceived by the violence of the recent quarrels. She had not realised that in spite of these Victoria’s love for her husband had been growing deeper every day. She knew her beloved child. When she loved she did so whole-heartedly. The adored one became perfect in her eyes. Lehzen had once been so. But she should have been warned by the Queen’s relationship with Lord Melbourne, whom Victoria had openly adored. At one time everything Lord Melbourne did and said was right. How much more affection and devotion would she have for a husband. Lehzen had miscalculated. She had tried to oust Albert from his position and the inevitable outcome was that she was being ousted from hers.
She tried to visualise life without Victoria. It was impossible, she thought at first. Victoria was her child. Every day since she was five and had been put in her care every thought had been for her. How foolish she had been! If she had been prepared to accept Albert, if she had tried to make their life more smooth, she would not have been banished now. For banishment it was. Lehzen was no fool. A long holiday meant for ever. Her home would be over there not here. Perhaps she would pay a visit to the Queen. A visit … to her home! For her home was where her beloved child was.
But she must be realistic. She must not antagonise the Queen. If she accepted her fate stoically she would be asked back. They would write to each other. It would be so easy to lose everything now. She must hold on to something.
So she smiled sadly and made her preparations.
‘I have written to my sister,’ she told the Queen. ‘She wants me to stay with her. We shall be company for each other. My brother’s family will be pleased to see me, they say.’
The Queen smiled radiantly. ‘Oh, dearest Daisy, I am so happy. And your brother has children. You will love helping with them, I know. You are so good with children.’
‘Yes, I shall be very interested in them.’
‘And there is no need to worry about money, Daisy. The Prince says we must make quite sure that you never have to do that. The Prince is so good at arranging everything.’
Yes, thought Lehzen, he is very good at arranging to be rid of me.
‘I shall always love you,’ said the Queen emotionally.
‘There,’ said Lehzen, ‘we mustn’t cry, must we?’
The Queen was ready to laugh; it was the laughter of relief.
‘Always the governess, Daisy,’ she cried and kissed the Baroness fervently. ‘Always remember, Daisy dear, that I will do anything …’
Anything, thought Lehzen, but oppose the Prince’s wishes and allow me to stay.
Albert was teaching Victoria a great deal and one thing was what a good Prime Minister they had.
‘Peel is a dedicated statesman,’ he told her, ‘and we need such a man at the head of affairs.’
‘I shall always regret my dear Lord Melbourne,’ replied the Queen.
‘A charming fellow, of course, but not the calibre of Peel. To tell the truth, my love, Melbourne – whom I admire and respect in so many ways – excels mor
e socially than politically. We need an adept politician at the moment.’
Victoria felt she should protest out of loyalty to her old Prime Minister but she was beginning to see that Albert was right. Albert, in his serious way, studied politics and knew what he was talking about. It was no use merely being charming and witty when some serious action was needed.
Albert had always liked Sir Robert Peel and because she was beginning to believe that Albert was almost always right, she looked differently at the new Prime Minister. It was amazing how he responded. Although he lacked Lord Melbourne’s grace he was quite charming, always so respectful and there was no doubt that he was a good man.
‘I never thought I could like Sir Robert,’ she told Albert. ‘But that is changed, thanks to you.’
Albert was very gratified and they seemed closer than ever.
The country was in great difficulties. Engaged in war in China, it had to contend with trouble in Afghanistan and the West Indies. America was indignant with England because of the practice of searching ships to discover whether they were carrying on the slave trade. This was merely to make sure that they were not British ships masquerading under the American flag, but the British were dangerously unpopular because of the practice. But of even greater concern was the trouble at home. Unemployment was great and growing; the price of food had risen and wages were pitiably low. People had left the country to flock to the towns and there was no work for them there, or the wages were such that they could only live at starvation level. Revolt was in the air. People were no longer in the mood to accept glaring inequalities. Rioting was breaking out in the coal mines of Wales and Staffordshire; the pottery district followed and there was trouble brewing in Lancashire. A strong force had to be kept in Ireland where a potato famine was threatened. The high taxes imposed there were causing dangerous dissatisfaction.
Unlike his predecessor, Sir Robert Peel withheld none of these facts from the Queen for the sake of her comfort.
He was a man of ideas and he was pleased to discuss them with the Queen – the Prince being present.
‘All these troubles are jeopardising the country,’ he said, ‘and we shall have to take drastic action. I have come to the conclusion that we can no longer expect the poor to bear the country’s burdens. We have to look to those in better financial circumstances. I am going to propose an Income Tax not to exceed sevenpence in the pound on all incomes over £150 a year.’
Albert nodded gravely and the Queen said: ‘That is an excellent measure. There must be no exemptions. I shall expect to pay as everyone else.’
Sir Robert smiled and said that knowing Her Majesty’s shrewd assessment of facts and her right-mindedness he had been certain of her support and that of the Prince on his measure.
Yes, the Queen was beginning to appreciate her Prime Minister.
Lord Melbourne was continuing to write to her in spite of Baron Stockmar’s disapproval; but the letters came less frequently and she was afraid that she often left his unanswered for days. It seemed that she was continually excusing herself on account of pressure of business or the arrival of visitors. How different from those days when she had upbraided him if she did not see him every day.
Now he wrote to her about the proposed income tax and told her that she should exert her royal prerogative and refuse to subscribe to such a scheme.
How different he was from Sir Robert, who was so realistic. Of course she wanted her subjects to know that if there were going to be unpleasant measures she wanted to share in them.
Lord Melbourne had kept her distressingly ignorant of social evils; he did it, she knew, because he hated to distress her, which was very kind, and she knew he was the most feeling of men but Sir Robert and Albert treated her as though she was a serious person, and naturally the Queen must know everything that is going on. She smiled tenderly over Lord Melbourne’s letter, ‘Dear Lord M,’ she said to herself. ‘He has become such an old man lately.’
It seemed an excellent idea to give a charity ball. What could be better, said the Queen, than to enjoy oneself and do good at the same time?
Even Albert – who disliked balls so much – agreed that this was an excellent idea. It was to help trade and as it was a bal costumé, Albert was to go as Edward III and she as Queen Philippa; the members of the Court would be dressed in the costume of that time. The Duchess of Cambridge had arranged to bring a party from her household which would be dressed as royal people and their courts from Spain, Italy and France. It was a grand occasion, thoroughly enjoyed by Victoria; and because of its success another ball was arranged to be given at Covent Garden in aid of the Spitalfields workers.
‘What an excellent – and delightful – way of helping trade,’ cried the Queen.
Albert said that it had been effective on this occasion but a habit should not be made of that kind of entertainment because the magnificent costumes and the gaiety did in a way draw attention to the different lives led by the rich and the poor.
Albert was absolutely right of course; but she did enjoy the dancing.
Albert thought it would be an excellent idea if her birthday was spent at Claremont where they could be quiet and enjoy the country. The country no longer bored her as it used to. There was so much of interest to be learnt and Albert was teaching her to enjoy the scenery and the wildlife. She feared she had been very ignorant of these things in the past.
‘Oh, it was the way you were brought up,’ said Albert, smiling tolerantly. ‘Not your fault in the least. But that will be remedied now. It is such fun to teach you these things and I must say, my love, that you are an apt pupil.’
Poor Lehzen, all the Queen’s faults were laid at her door; all her virtues had been inherited. Victoria was so comforted by the implication that she did not examine it very closely. Even the violent temper, so to be deplored and even now feared lest it should break out, was attributed to a lack of control during her formative years.
At Claremont there was a ball for her birthday. Even Albert realised that she could not be denied that, though in time he was sure she would realise the futility of such a pastime, and they danced in the gallery.
It was such a happy birthday, shadowed a little by the memories of other birthdays when Lehzen had been so happy arranging treats. And Lord Melbourne was not present either. Times changed. She was very kind to Lehzen, but not too familiar lest she thought there was to be a return to the old ways and her hopes should be raised, which would be cruel, for more and more Victoria was seeing how right Albert was and how really there was no place for Lehzen at Buckingham Palace.
She wrote to Lord Melbourne telling him about the birthday.
‘The Queen was grieved,’ she added, ‘that Lord Melbourne could not be there.’
It was a beautiful Sunday in June and the Queen and Albert were returning to Buckingham Palace from the Chapel Royal at St James’s. Crowds lined the Mall to see them pass; the Queen was quite popular now. The people were delighted with the babies and although they would never really like Albert who was still called ‘the German’, most people agreed that the devotion of the royal couple was an example to all. There was no longer slander about the Queen and Lord Melbourne; the Flora Hastings scandal had been forgotten.
Albert, looking very handsome in uniform, sat beside her nodding to the cheers.
‘The people seem very pleased with us today,’ he said.
‘They do,’ replied Victoria, turning slightly to bow to the crowd on her right.
Albert said suddenly: ‘Victoria, did you hear that?’
She turned to him. ‘What was that?’
‘I may have been mistaken,’ went on Albert, ‘but I am sure I saw someone take aim at us and heard a trigger snap.’
‘Albert!’
‘I may have been mistaken. No one seems to have noticed anything.’
She reached for his hand and gripped it firmly. ‘Can you see anything now, Albert?’ she asked.
‘Nothing unusual. It must have been a mi
stake.’
‘If it was someone planning to take aim he may still be lurking in the crowds.’
‘Behave as though nothing has happened. I shall be watchful.’
They were relieved when they reached the palace.
‘It must have been a mistake,’ said the Prince.
In the afternoon Sir Robert Peel, accompanied by the head of the police, called at the palace.
‘We have some disturbing news,’ said Sir Robert to Victoria and the Prince. ‘A boy named Pearse has told the police that while he was in the crowd in the Mall he saw a man who was standing close to him lift a pistol and point it at the carriage. He did not apparently fire. The boy heard him murmur to himself that he had been a fool not to do so.’
Turning pale Victoria looked at Albert, who said: ‘I must tell you, Sir Robert, I saw this man. I mentioned it to the Queen at the time. I thought that I might have been mistaken.’
‘This is no mistake,’ replied Sir Robert, ‘and I think every precaution will have to be taken, for this man may make the attempt again.’
A long discussion followed. Victoria was very alarmed. It was not the first time she had been shot at. It was a terrifying experience even when one escaped, but at least it was unexpected and all over before one realised that it was happening. The man might decide not to act again for months. They couldn’t stay in all that time.
At length it was agreed that Victoria and Albert should take their drives as usual. The equerries, Colonel Arbuthnot and Colonel Wylde, were called in and told what had happened; they were to ride very close to the carriage and one would watch the right-hand side of the road and the other the left; the drives would be taken at a faster pace than usual.
The Queen spent a sleepless night. She was frightened, she said. ‘For Albert what if you were to be killed.’
Albert said that would be better than that she should, but he trusted Sir Robert’s thorough precautions; the police would be out in force and at the first sign of trouble he would put himself between the Queen and the gun.