by Jean Plaidy
‘But that is exactly what I fear, Albert,’ she cried.
It was a very uneasy pair who drove out the next day. The Queen carried a parasol which was lined with chain mail and the carriage was surrounded by guards; the colonels rode very close to the carriage and the pace was brisk.
The sun shone hotly as they drove towards Hampstead; there were crowds of people about but that did not add to their peace of mind. The drive was almost over and Victoria, relieved to see the trees of Green Park, said to Albert: ‘But imagine, it could go on like this for months before he decides to make his second attempt.’
They were approaching the palace – on one side of them the park, on the other the garden wall – when Albert saw the man again but not before he had fired. The shot went under the carriage; they heard the shouts of ‘Get him! Catch him!’ as the horses were whipped up and the carriages rumbled through the gates of Buckingham Palace.
Albert took the Queen’s trembling hand and with his arm about her led her inside.
Sir Robert Peel reported to the palace immediately. The man had been arrested. He was a certain John Francis, a joiner by trade and twenty-two years old. When arrested he was truculent but this attitude soon changed when he was sentenced to death.
Victoria was distressed.
‘You see, Albert,’ she explained, ‘I cannot bear that people should hate me so much that they want to kill me.’
‘He was a madman.’
‘Perhaps, but he did it and sometimes I wonder whether there will always be these people who want me dead. It makes me very uneasy. All the same I do not like to think that he is going to die because of this.’
‘He deserves it.’
‘I am going to ask that his life be spared in any case.’
‘I know well your tender heart,’ said Albert, ‘but examples have to be made.’
‘That’s true. All the same I am going to ask Sir Robert what can be done about sparing his life.’
Sir Robert pointed out that the royal prerogative of mercy could not be exercised except under the direction of government but since the Queen felt so strongly on the matter, he would have the case considered.
The result was that John Francis’s death sentence was commuted to transportation for life.
Albert said that had John Francis been hanged as he so richly deserved it would not have entered the head of John William Bean to follow his example. Bean was four feet tall, a hunchback and therefore easily identified.
Since Francis had attempted to kill her, the Queen had become very popular and whenever she drove out crowds congregated to see her pass by.
She and Albert were driving to the chapel in St James’s Palace, when the hunchback pointed the pistol at them. A boy of sixteen named Dassett, with the help of his brother, seized the hunchback and shouted to the police. Thinking the deformed Bean to be only a child and his captors not much more, the police believed the affair to be a game and told the brothers to let the little fellow go. But the Dassett boys kept Bean’s pistol and showed it to another policeman. There could be no doubt that it was a dangerous weapon and, thinking the Dassetts had been seen to fire it and were pretending to be innocent, he was about to arrest them when their uncle – who had brought them to see the Queen ride by – hurried over and by this time others said that they had seen what had happened. When powder was found to be in the pistol the Dassett boys were commended and it did not take long to identify the hunchback, who was an assistant in a chemist shop, and he was promptly arrested.
Sir Robert, who was in Cambridge, came hurrying back to London on hearing the news and presented himself at Buckingham Palace.
When the Queen entered the room his emotion was so great at the sight of her that tears came into his eyes and he could not control his voice.
So deeply affected was the Queen that the somewhat frigid and formal Sir Robert could feel so deeply about her safety, that from that moment every vestige of the dislike which she had fought so hard to overcome disappeared. It was the constant tears in Lord Melbourne’s eyes which had made her so devoted to him and now she had discovered without a doubt that Sir Robert was just as kind and feeling a man and none the less sincere because he was not always proclaiming his devotion.
‘My dear Sir Robert,’ she cried, ‘we are once more safe.’
‘Ma’am,’ replied Sir Robert brokenly, ‘I must ask you to excuse me. For the moment …’
‘Albert and I understand,’ said the Queen warmly.
Although Sir Robert recovered his habitual demeanour he could not altogether hide his emotion. The law must be tightened up, he said, or these attacks might continue. It so often happened that an offence was committted and accompanied by a great deal of publicity and then someone else would attempt it.
Sir Robert never prevaricated as Lord Melbourne had, the Queen noticed. A Bill was immediately introduced into Parliament which set out that any attempts on the life of the Sovereign would be punishable by seven years transportation or imprisonment of three years, the miscreant to be publicly or privately whipped.
Bean was sentenced to eighteen months imprisonment.
This, said Sir Robert, would deter people from thinking it was an afternoon’s amusement to take a shot at the Queen, for, he was convinced, this was not a serious attempt on her life. There was unrest throughout the country over the appalling social conditions but no one could blame the charming young Queen for this.
That was an eventful summer, with two attempts on her life, the imminent departure of Lehzen and so many visitors to be entertained. The Queen’s uncle Mensdorff had come over in June and had in fact been in the carriage behind the Queen’s and Albert’s at the time of the Francis affair; Uncle Leopold and Aunt Louise had paid a fleeting visit to be followed by Albert’s brother Ernest and his bride in July. In addition to all was the change in so many relationships. Lehzen was preparing to depart. ‘After so many years,’ she said sadly, ‘one collects so many belongings.’ The Queen’s presents to her – so numerous over the years – would all be taken and treasured until she died. There was a subtle understanding between them that this was goodbye. Lehzen knew that on the day she departed the palace would cease to be her home.
There was also the Queen’s changed relationship with her Prime Minister and her growing dependence upon Albert. She was now discussing everything with him and there had been scarcely any flaring up of temper, and then only over trivial things which she could very quickly laugh at with Albert.
Albert made a clean sweep in the nurseries and dismissed several of the nurses whom he said were incompetent or disrespectful. Lady Sarah Spencer Lyttleton, a lady of charm and efficiency, took charge and the Prince was pleased with her. Later he would examine the household management, but he would wait until Lehzen had left for now that he had gained his point he did not wish to be too hard on her. All he asked was that she slip quietly away and then he would begin introducing his reforms in earnest.
Albert was very happy to be with his brother. He and Victoria took the pair to Claremont but Victoria secretly believed that Ernest preferred the gaieties of London. It was an excuse to have a few balls to entertain them, but Albert was never really happy on these occasions and she supposed really they were rather superficial entertainments.
She was a little hurt by Albert’s grief when his brother departed and would have been so happy if he had not cared quite so much, but of course it did show what an affectionate nature he had and she could not expect Albert to forget his devotion to his brother – the companion of his childhood and early youth – because he had entered into the most perfect marriage with Victoria.
The Cambridges had always been antagonistic to Albert and Victoria had turned against them for this reason. Relations could be so tiresome. There was Uncle Cumberland who could not be content to be King of Hanover and was always making some criticism of his niece, simply because he thought she had what should be his, which was nonsense. There was no law in England against a woman a
scending the throne and as Uncle William had said the people often preferred it. ‘Sailors will be more ready to fight for a bonny lass.’ Those were some of the last words Uncle William had spoken. But Uncle Cumberland thought differently. In fact until it had been proved that Francis and Bean were almost witless she had thought they might be agents of Uncle Cumberland, because in her youth there had been genuine scares that he was plotting against her.
It was not that she expected the Cambridges to plot against her. They would not dare do that. But they had wanted her to marry George Cambridge and they had thought they had had a good chance of bringing this about because in the old days George Cambridge (while his parents were in Germany) had lived with Aunt Adelaide and Uncle William and they had tried to make a match between George and Victoria. Being the King and Queen it might have seemed that they had a good chance of bringing this about. But, thought the Queen fondly, I had seen Albert.
They were most provoking, these Cambridges, always doing something to irritate her, mostly slighting Albert, so when she heard the scandal about George she could not help feeling a little pleased, which was very wrong of course. But they did give themselves airs.
It was whispered that the Duke of Beaufort’s daughter, Lady Augusta Somerset, was pregnant and that recently she had been very friendly with George Cambridge. As Lady Augusta was the Duchess of Cambridge’s lady-in-waiting George would see a great deal of her, and it was very likely that he was the father.
Albert, disclosing that he deplored any form of impurity, was horrified that it should exist within the family circle.
‘Your Court, my love, has been rather lax,’ he said, affectionately chiding. ‘I think that is something we shall be obliged to alter.’
‘Of course, Albert,’ she agreed.
‘You must invite the Duchess and express definite instructions that Lady Augusta is not included in the party.’
‘And what of George?’
Albert considered that it was difficult to exclude her cousin but in the circumstances necessary.
The Cambridges were furious. The Duchess demanded of the Queen why her son and lady-in-waiting should be treated in this way.
‘It is always those most concerned who are the last to hear of what is going on around them,’ the Queen told her.
‘I am completely ignorant of what Your Majesty suggests.’
‘Then I should ask your son … and lady-in-waiting. The Prince and I will not tolerate immorality at Court. There has been too much of it in the past. We have decided to take strong measures against it and these will be used even against members of our own family.’
‘This is a cruel mistake,’ said the Duchess, but the Queen lifted her shoulders and fluttered her fan.
The Duchess was not going to allow the matter to pass, particularly when both her son George and Lady Augusta assured her that the accusation was false.
‘The Queen is behaving as she did over Flora Hastings,’ said the Duchess. ‘When the honour of people has to be vindicated this sort of thing must be brought out into the open.’
The news leaked out to the press. The Cambridges saw to that. The Queen’s German husband was so pure, was the comment, that he could see evil where it did not exist.
Lord Melbourne was disturbed. Being an inveterate gossip himself he could see the implications of this affair far better than Peel could. It was an echo of Flora Hastings and they all knew what harm that had done. The Queen certainly did, for she had been taunted by the wronged woman for months afterwards. There had been two attempts at assassination; some parts of the country were in revolt against social conditions; people were hungry and dissatisfied; there was rioting in the Midlands. The Queen could not afford another Flora Hastings scandal and the best thing that could happen would be that Albert, who was accused of being the instigator of the gossip, should without delay apologise to the Cambridges and Lady Augusta.
This was very difficult and degrading, said Albert; but as it became clear that the rumour was without foundation he realised it must be done.
He did it rather brusquely and he and the Queen hoped that the matter would end there. But the Queen’s nights were disturbed by dreams of Flora Hastings rising from the grave to stand at the foot of her bed reproaching her.
She told Albert about it and recalled the pamphlets which were put into circulation at the time by malicious people. The one which haunted her most was that which was titled: ‘A case of Murder against Buckingham Palace.’
‘It was horrible, horrible,’ she shuddered. ‘I want no repetition of that.’
‘There will be none,’ soothed the Prince. ‘These rumours were without foundation but we are right to keep a close watch on the morals of the Court and, my dear love, we must continue to do so.’
Victoria agreed that they must. And the Cambridges continued to slight Albert whenever the opportunity arose.
It was September, the month when Lehzen was due to depart. Albert, with, as Victoria told herself, perfect understanding, realised the strain those last weeks would bring so he decided that he and the Queen should take a little holiday. The babies could be left behind and Lehzen was still in charge of the nursery. The change would do the queen good.
‘Shall it be Claremont?’ asked the Queen.
‘Oh, no,’ said Albert, ‘much farther afield. I have heard that Scotland is very beautiful.’
Scotland! The Queen had never thought of going so far but the idea was as she said very appealing and since Albert wished it they set off.
The tour was a great success. Her Majesty’s loyal subjects of the North were very pleased that she should visit their country. Edinburgh was a delight.
‘A unique city,’ cried the Queen.
The glens and the heather-covered hills delighted the Prince. They reminded him of home, he said, which was the greatest compliment he could pay them.
The Queen found them truly magnificent and determined to see more of this beautiful part of her realm.
It was such a joy to be with Albert who was the perfect companion. He was not always serious and did like an occasional joke. For instance when Lord Kinnoul received them at his country mansion and was so eager to show them the beauties of his estate he fell backwards in his enthusiasm and rolled head over heels down a grassy bank. Having got up he almost fell down another and would have done if Albert had not seized him in time. The Queen caught Albert’s eye and they could not help smiling and as Lord Kinnoul was none the worse for his fall it seemed a great joke. They talked about it when they were alone and as the Queen said in her account of this in a letter to Uncle Leopold they nearly ‘died of laughing’.
From Dalkeith they went to Perth, ‘most beautifully situated on the Tay,’ wrote the Queen; and on to Scone Palace, ‘fine but rather gloomy’. Then to Dunkeld and the Highlands.
Oh, the beautiful beautiful Highlands! She would always remember her first view of them and she would love them for ever. And what was most effective were the encampments of the Highlanders who were there, of course for the express purpose of paying homage to her. Dear people, in their kilts and their shields and swords. So romantic. What an excellent idea it had been to come to Scotland. She could never thank Albert enough for bringing her here. At Dunkeld Lord Breadalbane had brought out his Highlanders with a battalion of the 92nd Highland Regiment in honour of the royal visit.
How enchanting! She was delighted, and when she did not think of poor Lehzen back at the palace getting her things ready to leave she could be completely happy.
What a wonderful night that was, for as far as she could see from her bedroom window the bonfires blazed; the Highlanders danced their own dances by torchlight and the bagpipes played their strange and exciting music.
‘I have fallen in love with Scotland,’ said the Queen fervently.
She was delighted to have discovered this beautiful realm, but another discovery pleased her less.
She was once more pregnant.
Lehzen sat silently in her
room. So this was the end. Tomorrow she was leaving the palace and that meant that she would in fact go out of Victoria’s life for ever.
A year ago this would have seemed an impossibility. How quickly life could change!
She could see clearly now where she had been wrong. She should never have attempted to make trouble between a husband and wife. She should have known that the Queen would be the most loyal of wives. But it was too late. She had to make a new life. There were young people where she was going – her brother’s children. Perhaps she could take them to her heart as she had taken Victoria. But there would never be anyone who could mean to her what Victoria had meant. She was philosophical now. She was getting old. She had had her day.
Her devotion to her dearest child was selfless and she could say with absolute sincerity that what she wanted more than anything was Victoria’s happiness.
She could never like Albert. He was stern, serious and prudish; he could never really enjoy life because he was so eager to do his duty, and one sensed that he felt there was something sinful in enjoying the good things of life. He would mould her to his way. She would change. She would always be sincere, deeply affectionate, loving to dance and gossip, the adorably human Victoria of the past, but he would change her.
It is time I went, said Lehzen.
She would see the Queen for the last time today. She would be calm; there must be no stormy parting and tomorrow very early she would slip quietly away. She did not want Victoria to be harassed by painful goodbyes.
Lehzen had gone.
The Queen was deeply affected. After all those years they had parted. She could not remember a time in her life when Lehzen had not been there.
In a way she was relieved. The last months had been a strain. And Albert would be so delighted. It was what he had always wanted; he blamed Lehzen for everything that had gone wrong; and it was true he had made her see the Baroness differently from the way she had before.