The Queen, Her Lover and the Most Notorious Spy in History

by Roland Perry

  Husband and wife wrote to Stockmar, looking for support from a neutral umpire. Victoria, at least on paper, was being conciliatory. She felt compelled to support Lehzen and to tread carefully around her sensitivities, even though she was unaware of the fight going on in the palace’s inter-apartment mail.Victoria did not want Albert ever to learn of her affair with Elphinstone. She felt sure that his pious, pristine and delicate nature would not cope with what he would perceive as betrayal. Even though the Elphinstone relationship had begun before her even meeting Albert, he would be sure to see it as a form of retrospective infidelity.

  ‘Lehzen is a crazy, common, stupid intriguer, obsessed with lust for power,’ Albert wrote in a fusillade of abuse for his rival.‘[She] . . .regards herself as a demi-god, and anyone who refuses to acknowledge her as such, as a criminal.’ Albert thought Victoria had been taught to see Lehzen as an ‘oracle’, yet some observers suggested Victoria’s best qualities had been developed by her. His frustration at not realising his full influence over his wife had boiled over and Lehzen’s connection to her offended his sense of logic and rationale.Victoria’s apparent clinging to Lehzen did not fit with his appreciation of his wife.What hold could this wretched woman possibly have over his dear spouse, he wondered on paper to many correspondents. Instead of Melbourne being the third party in their marriage, Albert now saw the lean, sharp-nosed and unprepossessing figure of the ‘fire-breathing’ German baroness. He understood Melbourne. He was a ‘brilliant’, polished man of finesse. Of course he would impress a young, politically naive girl, any girl. But Lehzen? It just did not add up. An older, more mature Albert may well have asked relevant questions about what it could mean. Something in the past, perhaps? But the young consort, for all his intelligence, could not make sense of it. The Lehzen–Victoria relationship was beyond him. It made him react childishly.

  The experiences of Victoria and Lehzen at Kensington had bonded them. Albert had no idea that Lehzen had stood up against everyone in defence of her charge at the most critical hour. Lehzen had also been the go-between and even the facilitator of Victoria’s relationship with Elphinstone. She had always angled for him and detested both the contrived match with Albert and Albert himself. She did not like his fussy ways at court. She was at one with the women courtiers, who were affronted by his lack of warmth and charm, and total disregard for them. In short, she did not believe Albert was man enough for Victoria. She suspected, like many at court, that he was homosexual and only carried out his procreational duty once a year, and then under sufferance. Lehzen knew her beloved queen better than anyone. She knew how difficult Victoria could be. Handling her would test the most compassionate and understanding of men. Rightly or wrongly, Lehzen never thought Albert had the ‘skills’ and strengths to handle her. Perhaps she had idealised Elphinstone too much in these respects. But the baroness had seen the Scot enough at close quarters to judge. She believed that his exceptional depths of feeling and kindness, coupled with his strength of mind, meant that he was better equipped than anyone for the long haul of a challenging high-powered, high-profile marriage. Lehzen also thought the bonds of spontaneous love were stronger than a contrived coupling. Her resentment towards Albert stemmed from how Victoria had been set up by the ‘wizard’ Stockmar and the conniving King Leopold. She objected to their über-piety. All that was in the past yet Lehzen could not forgive or forget. She carried her attitude to the royal court in a coldness towards the consort. Consciously or unconsciously she undermined him and his marriage.

  Victoria would have to be loyal to Lehzen if her affair with Elphinstone were to remain secret. Conroy had been bought off; Elphinstone had been sent off. It might not be so easy to get rid of Lehzen, who had no-one else and had been ‘wedded’ to Victoria’s life for most of it. The palace experience was all she knew. Lehzen was in her forties and unattractive. Marriage was probably not an option. She would fight to stay close to Victoria, whom she had done most to develop as an intelligent, well-read, well-rounded monarch. Stockmar could see that something had to give. He interceded, letting Victoria know more of Albert’s grievances. The seed of Lehzen’s demise was sown. A way around the problem was to ‘reform’ the nursery management. This left Lehzen without a major role and she was not travelling with Victoria everywhere.The loyal confidante was on the outer, yet she had enough character not to cause a scene. She knew Victoria loved her but events and people had moved on. Albert had the right to act the way he did, within reason, and he was a strictly logical, reasonable man. In this case, he had become obsessed, exaggerating the deficiencies of his wife and her mentor and mother figure. After years of angst and complaints, he had his way. Lehzen left quietly, on 30 September 1842, without even saying goodbye. This was not because she lacked the courage; she simply did not wish to cause a scene or upset Victoria, which was appreciated by all concerned. Her ‘settlement’ was good: a pension of £800 a year, which was much more than any other comparable retiring lady-in-waiting could hope for. But she had earned it, if long service and the capacity to keep confidences were a measure of worth. Lehzen planned to live with a sister in Buckeburg, Germany, and work her kind of ‘magic’ for moulding children—now her brothers’ offspring—into what she and the standards of the time saw as worthy young adults.

  Albert now felt there were no obstacles to his relationship and the way he wished the court to progress. Gossip at dinner, he expected, would be replaced by discussions on military, political, scientific and international issues.For many,including Victoria,there would be duller but better-informed gatherings especially on problems that troubled the seat of empire and needed at least comprehension by her. Harvests, never a topic for before-dinner drinks, came up in discussion. Court chatter about trade, which was taboo previously, now received ‘mention’, mainly because it was in the doldrums. Even the ‘R’ word—revolution—received attention, especially as there had been talk of it in many parts of Britain. The Scots were grumbling; the Irish were livid and the Welsh were uncooperative. The Duke of Wellington said that in war he had never seen a town as touched by violence as Birmingham had been in 1839. There was less or no tittle-tattle about who was having an affair with whom, although the odd bit of scuttlebutt revived some of the ladies’ interest during the main course when good wines loosened mischievous tongues. No-one had previously discussed the poor conviction rate of Irish murderers (fewer than 5 per cent in recent years); nor had the ongoing revolt of French colonists in Canada been a topic digested with dessert. But all the males were riveted over port and cigars one night when Wellington mentioned the possibility of war with the United States. There was also silence when Peel brought up the uncomfortable fact that British ships were being held up by Chinese pirates in the Far East.They were looting or destroying cargo. Retaliation was promised to Victoria. It was undertaken and led to the Treaty of Nanking later in 1842.

  It was the beginning of a period of greater awareness for Victoria, and more particularly Albert, as they preoccupied themselves with touring the country, and public events, such as the races at Epsom on Derby Day. At Albert’s suggestion (which Lehzen would have objected to), he and Victoria mingled with the crowd between races. The monarch had more traction with the middle and lower classes than she did with the aristocracy, who refused to warm to another German who had gained prominence in the social structure. Its members were frigid towards Albert, who remained his reserved and distant self. He paid no attention to the ‘important’ ladies of the upper classes or their children at balls, parties and other events, which further distanced him from the aristocracy. He was too punctilious and clipped; too foreign for their parochial tastes. It did not seem to bother the royal couple. They had growing mass appeal. The aristocracy could fall in with this or please themselves. This popularity was aided when Peel reintroduced income tax on Victoria’s own income, including the bulk of her £385,000 from the Civil List. This seemed logical now that the monarch did not have to pay any expenses of government. Victoria was annoyed and
held a grudge about becoming a taxpayer. She told Lord Rosebery that she felt it ‘rather derogatory to her dignity’; she may not have realised that she was very much like the vast majority of her subjects in holding that sentiment.

  Peel had quietly ‘cornered’ Victoria by taking away her ability to pay for any Government activity, which reduced her influence. The canny prime minister had gone by the principle ‘he or she who has the gold, rules’. He quantified her comfort and dignity more than adequately while boosting the institution of democratic government at the expense of the monarch. Peel was shrewd too in the way he played this move politically by announcing that Victoria had ‘volunteered’ to pay income tax. This had a twofold effect. It lifted her image in the public mind, and also made a most unpopular tax in peacetime more palatable for her subjects to accept. The tax of just 3 per cent only affected those with more than £150 a year, which was a small percentage of the population, but this did not make it any more popular. It was said to be temporary but, without a specified time frame, this was an underhand yet effective way of foisting income tax on the public for a protracted period.

  Victoria was now viewed in the public mind as a good citizen who paid her taxes just like everyone else.

  16

  LOVERS’ REUNION

  Elphinstone returned to London from Madras via the fast route overland to Cairo in 1842. He did not expect any favours or position at Victoria’s new court after his six-year banishment. He had kept in touch with developments and knew he would be out of favour still, although not with Victoria. It was his duty to present himself at court as the returning representative of her majesty abroad. It was a moment of emotion and tension for both. In the rarefied atmosphere of the ornate reception room at Buckingham Palace, with courtiers standing nearby or flitting in and out, there was no opportunity to express what was in their hearts.

  Elphinstone assessed that Victoria’s pure and youthful beauty, unhindered by the weight of ‘authority’, and her odd mix of coyness and determination, had been replaced by primness and a dour expression. He was looking for glimpses of the girl he once knew, with the hint of a smile, perhaps the merest glint in her eyes, or a fleeting gesture of warmth. For her part, she was smitten again by his good looks and masculinity, which had so taken her from the age of twelve. He was tanned and even stronger looking than before. All the urges that had swirled in her for so long were stirred again. But she kept her feelings in check.

  ‘I must thank you, my lord, for the wonderful letters and sketches you sent,’ she said somewhat stiffly, accepting his hand as they sat discreetly either side of a long table. ‘You sparked in me a love of India that will never die.’

  ‘I gathered this from your letters and that pleased me greatly,’ Elphinstone said.

  ‘What plans do you have?’ she asked, again with a formal expression.

  ‘See my family and friends; visit the Lords,’ he smiled warmly,‘fulfil my role as one of your councillors, ma’am.’ She blinked and he caught a hint of the headstrong young woman he once knew. ‘Must return to Scotland and do some riding. Lots of riding in the highlands.’

  Victoria glanced at a courtier near the door.

  ‘Privacy, please. No-one is to enter until I announce it.’

  ‘Yes, your majesty,’ the courtier said with a nod as he backed out of the room.

  ‘I am finding it hard to control my feelings,’ she whispered, eyes down. ‘I have thought of you . . .every day since . . .’

  ‘And I you.’

  ‘It is impossible for us.’

  ‘I accepted that some time ago.’

  ‘No, you misunderstand. I mean for the moment.There are still too many about me with fresh memories. It is seven years, but the moment is not right.’

  ‘For what, your majesty?’

  ‘For you to return here, to my court.’

  ‘You still want me—’

  ‘In the court, yes, very, very much.’

  He was surprised and pleased. It was a consolation for a lost opportunity.

  ‘If I had been my age now when we . . .’ she paused. ‘It would have been different, so different. Only now I am able to see my position with clarity.’

  ‘But you are happily married?’

  ‘Very. Albert fulfils every role of a demanding situation,’ she paused. Again for a second he caught a hint of the wild girl he had seduced when she added: ‘Well, nearly every role.’

  Sensing a sadness in him,Victoria reached a hand across the table.

  ‘You will never know the pain I went through trying to get you back,’ she said as tears emerged. He moved around the table. She stood and he held her, touching her forehead and wiping away tears. Elphinstone kissed her lightly on the forehead and moved back to his seat.

  ‘As long as you are happy,’ he said, reaching for her hand again. ‘That is important for the nation.’

  ‘I am,’ she said, ‘most of the time. But I have my moods.’ She gave a little laugh.

  ‘Dear Elphi,’ she said softly, ‘dear, dear Elphi. I always saw the wisdom of the world in your eyes. And you brought the world to me in your correspondence like no other.’ She grasped both his hands in hers and added:‘For what it is worth, my darling, I cried for you a long time after you left.’

  ‘And I for you, in my heart.’

  ‘I want to tell you this just once,’ she said, her expression serious.‘If it had been left to me, I would have waited much, much longer until you returned, but the family . . .’

  ‘I know, I know,’ Elphinstone said, putting a finger to his lips.

  ‘I am not saying that Albert was not right for me and my destiny. He was and is. But I just wanted you to know.’

  ‘I had my spies at court,’ he said.

  ‘And I had them too, in Madras.’ She arched her back and released his hands as she sat up. ‘I heard about the most beautiful woman in India.What was her name?’

  Elphinstone said nothing.

  ‘I was so jealous at the time,’ Victoria added,‘It was Melbourne who first told me in order to put me off you when they were all attempting to marry me off to Albert. I reproached myself for not wanting you to have this woman.’

  ‘She is in Sweden or France, I know not which; I am here.’ He paused and added, ‘I must take my leave, ma’am.’

  ‘You cannot go until I command it,’ she said, suddenly affronted, ‘I am your queen!’

  Elphinstone kept on his feet.Victoria stood and came close.

  He bowed low, kissed her hand and backed towards the door, leaving her standing, hands on hips.

  ‘I have not given you leave!’ she called.

  Elphinstone opened the door, bowed again, waved and said:‘I know your majesty, and I bid you farewell and a truly lovely day.’

  Victoria’s assessment about the timing for his return to court life accorded with the information he had received in letters from friends, such as the Prince of Hesse. But Elphinstone could only really assess things by being in the place of his former occupation as lord of the bedchamber and speaking with the monarch personally. His immediate sense was that events had moved on and passed him by. No matter what she felt, Victoria had to behave in a detached manner with him in the company of others. She was married with children; she was queen. Victoria had a duty to the public. She and Albert were already setting the impression of a model family. Not the merest hint of impropriety, whether real or imagined, could float from the court. Elphinstone had to be treated as an ‘old and dear friend’, nothing more. Nevertheless, regardless of her love for Albert, which was part real and part manufactured by virtue of her role and duty, Elphinstone was, and forever would be, her first love. She would tell all her daughters in later years, and other close friends that ‘one’s first true love was always the greatest, most stimulating and powerful love’. It was sacred. She concluded it was ‘the divinest thing in the world’.

  No-one ever asked her how she came to this conclusion. It would have been an awkward question for
Victoria. Logic dictated that she could only know how much better a first love felt than any other if she had more than one lover.

  At that telling yet poignant moment, Victoria had to hide her excitement about Elphinstone.There had been developments in her life that made resumption of anything beyond companionship and perhaps later ‘monarch and courtier’ again difficult although not impossible. As she informed him, it would be still too early for any formal relationship at court. But deep in Victoria’s heart, given her record of emotional responses, she again experienced a huge pull towards Elphinstone. Their affair had been cut short by others when they both wished it to continue, even to marriage. The relationship had never died. It did not end by their own volition, or become acrimonious. In that sense it was still pure. Elphinstone maintained his love for her. It had not diminished. He had no wife or permanent lover. His passionate relationship with Husna may have had a future but was now in abeyance. He had built a reputation in Madras as being a man disinclined to commit: a ‘player’. Deep in his psyche was a forlorn hope that he would be reunited, somehow, with the only woman he loved. This blocked him from giving to others, apart from Husna, but because of her caution and ambivalence, theirs was a relationship in suspension. Elphinstone did not appear to women as callous, a misogynist or unreliable. His warm, manly, mannerly and courteous nature confused his admirers. He was so liked by everyone that hopeful possible partners would have wondered what was wrong with them, rather than the alluring, yet mysterious governor.

  The reaction in this meeting with Victoria on his return was expected, yet Elphinstone had to experience it to really know it. He realised that he should not push for a resumption of anything like his former role in close proximity to the monarch. If he were upset at the reality, he did not show it. He remained cheerful (if his letters are anything to go by) and positive. He just wished to vanish from the palace system and to distance himself from reminders of his past experiences at court. Elphinstone planned there and then to disappear back to India but this time to its wilds; the remotest parts that had never been visited by Europeans. It was not an act of running away; it was more an escape to find himself.