Виктория Холт - The Queen’s Husband

‘Oh, yes,’ she cried, ‘while we have each other all is well.’

* * *

Three weeks or so after the fire the baby was born. It was a boy and the Queen decided to call him Leopold after that beloved uncle.

Sir James Clark had talked to her before explaining to her the use of chloroform in childbirth. He could see no danger in its use and it could be given when the agony was extreme. If the Queen agreed he would call in Dr Snow, who was an expert in these matters.

The Queen, who had before the birth of Leopold undergone the ordeal of child-bearing seven times and who was always apprehensive when her time drew near, welcomed the idea.

She was delighted with its effect.

Many women were grateful to her, for arguments against the use of chloroform had been raging throughout the country. Many people – mostly men, and women who were past child-bearing age – deplored its use as ‘going against nature’. If God had not meant women to suffer in this way He would not have made birth painful, therefore to alleviate pain was to go against God and nature. However, those to whom it could be useful were delighted that the Queen had come down on their side, for since Victoria had used it opinions changed. Chloroform was not merely, as the Queen had said, a ‘blessed relief’, it was fashionable.

The Queen recovered quickly from her confinement, not having to undergo such strain, but the child was smaller and more frail than his brothers and sisters and it was very soon discovered that he suffered from a strange disease. If for any reason he bled it was difficult to stop the bleeding.

The fact that she had produced a delicate child upset the Queen and because of this a fracas between herself and Albert would frequently occur. Albert remained patient and would calmly explain where she was wrong; he called her his ‘dear child’ which was meant to imply of course that she was somewhat fractious.

There was a great deal to worry about: Bertie’s naughtiness, which made him sometimes quite violent; Leopold’s fragility; and politics. A very unpleasant situation was blowing up between Russia and Turkey; Mr Gladstone was making himself tiresome in the House of Commons and Lord Aberdeen, finding himself unequal to the stresses all about him, wanted to resign.

Most alarming of all was Albert’s health. He would go into moods of depression; he was so ready to believe the worst and was so worried about the situation in Russia and Turkey; he had constant attacks of a kind of nervous fever which Sir James Clark could not diagnose; and he caught cold easily.

How she longed for summer days at Osborne and long autumn holidays at Balmoral. Only in those dear homes was she really at peace; and now that they had purchased Balmoral and pulled down the original place and Albert had designed a castle, it was just the ideal place, which after all was his creation, and he really had a genius for designing royal houses. Look at Osborne – that other happy home. And up at Balmoral their privacy was respected and even if any of the Highlanders of the village met them on the road they knew they must pretend not to see them. In the house and on the estate they had their good loyal servants and their wonderful gillies who looked after them so magnificently when they went out into the countryside, the Prince to shoot or stalk and the older boys with him. She often said to the Prince that she did not know what they would do without people like John Grant and John Brown.

The Queen was in despair. That which she had always dreaded was threatened. War! She believed fervently that at all costs the country must keep out of war and there was one man who was trying to drag them into that unhappy state: Palmerston.

Palmerston was the man of the moment. The eyes of all Europe were on him. He was the strong man, not afraid to state his views, to offend the Queen and her husband, nor to give up office if need be. The people were convinced that Palmerston was the man to lead England.

No sooner had Sir John Russell insisted on his resignation than England’s enemies were exulting, and Nicholas, Emperor of Russia, threatened to annexe Turkey. Lord Malmesbury, the new Foreign Secretary, had had little experience of foreign affairs and his great desire was to fall in step with the Queen and Albert; Aberdeen’s policy was peace at any price. Only Palmerston, with the bulk of public opinion behind him, saw that the only way to prevent war was to take a firm hand and threaten it. If Russia believed that England would stand aside – which Palmerston fervently believed she could not without great damage not only to her prestige and status but to her commercial interests – Russia would swallow up Turkey and command not only the Black Sea but the Mediterranean.

Ever since the enforced resignation of Palmerston, Russia had been creeping nearer and nearer to Turkey and was poised ready to spring. The British lion stood up and growled at these onslaughts and then settled down again.

A climax came when Russia destroyed the Turkish fleet. Palmerston resigned, but the vacillating Aberdeen, while referring to Palmerston as ‘that obnoxious minister’, had at last seen that the policy Palmerston had suggested must be followed. Palmerston then withdrew his resignation.

Meanwhile the public, led by the press, had become aware of its weak government and Palmerston was the national hero.

Punch summed up the situation with a caricature of the Russian Emperor stuffing a Turkey into his pockets and saying: ‘I don’t mean any harm,’ while policemen representing France and England stood by watching.

Why, asked the press, was England remaining aloof, blind to her own interests? Because the Queen was against it. And who guided the Queen and was trying to rule the country through her? The Queen’s German husband.

If Palmerston had become the hero of the drama, Albert was chosen for the villain.

Cartoons, lampoons and libellous articles were published and all were directed against German Albert. He wanted to hand England over to his German family; that was why he wanted to see her brought low. He was in sympathy with Russia because he was related to the Russian royal family. He might be the Queen’s husband but he was the country’s enemy.

The people had always disliked Albert. He was a German; he spoke with a guttural accent; he was cold and aloof and there was no humour in him. How different from Lord Palmerston, who in his most serious moments could never resist a joke. Albert was a virtuous husband it was true, but how colourful was Lord Palmerston. There were stories about his gay past when he had been involved in many an amorous scrape, and then in later life he had married Lord Melbourne’s sister with whom it was said he had been in love for years and now he had settled down to a life of domestic felicity with a wife whose sole purpose in life was to care for her husband and further his career.

The anger against Albert was great. It was said that he had a key to the Queen’s Despatch Box and opened it before it came into her hands. He altered the Foreign Secretary’s dispatches and sent them to their destinations without further reference to the Queen or the Foreign Office. On Christmas Day he had dined off turkey and had drunk the health of the Russian Emperor. In short, Albert was a traitor.

The Queen was aghast at such perfidy. She wept with rage. It was only a short time ago that Albert had given them that wonderful Exhibition. Everyone had applauded it and said that there had never been such a clever, artistic and brilliant display. They had known that it was Albert’s creation; and the very same people who were telling these lies about Albert were talking of Palmerston as though he were a hero whom she and Albert hated because he was the great patriot of the age. But there was nothing she could do to prevent the hysteria which was rising against the Prince.

A rumour was started that the Prince was to be sent to the Tower of London and crowds collected by the Traitor’s Gate. When he did not arrive they dispersed, grumbling that he had tried to make the Queen share his fate and she had refused and that he had forced her to have the charges against him withdrawn.

The situation was becoming so ridiculous that responsible persons like Mr Gladstone realised that it must be stopped without delay or the mob would be so incensed that they might even attempt to assassinate the Prince. Mr Gladstone wrote to the Morning Post explaining the groundlessness of the accusations and the matter was brought up in the House of Commons where Lord John Russell so effectively defended the Prince and showed the calumnies against him to be so ridiculous and false that it halted the streams of abuse. But a great deal of gossip about the subversive activities of the Prince persisted: and when the Queen went to open Parliament the crowd hissed her and great precautions were taken because Albert was with her.

The French exiles were still at Claremont and this was another matter which was brought against the Queen and her husband. The French under Napoleon III were involved with England in the obligation to go to the aid of Turkey and the fact that the French royal family had found refuge in England was taken to indicate that Albert and Victoria were the enemies of Napoleon III, since they befriended the exiled King and Queen.

All these troubles had their effect on the Queen’s temper, and when Albert said that he thought it unwise for them to visit Claremont her anger flared up.

‘Let’s wait until this storm has blown over,’ said Albert.

‘But don’t you see, they will think you are not going because you are guilty?’

‘I think it unwise to go,’ said the Prince firmly.

‘What will those poor exiles think if you don’t?’

‘My dear love, we have to think of our position.’

‘It is cruel. So unjust!’

‘Of course we know it is, but it doesn’t help us to say it. We have to think and act wisely and with caution.’

‘I think we should defy them and go.’

‘I think we should not.’

She stamped her foot. She was the Queen. Who would believe that, by the manner in which her people treated her – or the manner in which Albert treated her!

She faced him defiantly and suddenly she saw how tired and wretched he looked and she began to cry.

He was all tenderness immediately, and she was comforted. Her determination was as strong as ever, but it had been diverted. It was not to go to Claremont but to make sure that Albert was appreciated by the people. They must be made to recognise his great good qualities. She would never rest until they did.

A few weeks later England had no choice but, with France as her ally, to declare war on Russia.

* * *

The Queen could think of nothing but the war. How could it be carried on to the best advantage, what could she do to help her brave soldiers? She longed for it to be over because the thought of death and destruction was abhorrent to her, but she was eager for the glory of her country and she was now convinced that war was the only action possible in the circumstances. The Tzar Nicholas had become the villain. He alone was responsible. Palmerston in the background was murmuring that the right action a year before could have prevented the war. It was because the Russians had believed that England was ineffectually governed – which it was – by short-sighted men – which they were – it could take advantage of the situation – which it had.

The people in the streets were enthusiastic for the war. It was far away; it was fought on foreign soil and they had not yet begun to realise what misery was involved. They began to call for Palmerston who stood by awaiting the moment to come forward. At least, he said, the country was taking some action now. It was belated but at last the Russians had been shown that we were not going to stand aloof.

Albert worked for long hours; he was indefatigable, said the Queen; when he came to bed red-eyed and weary she would tell him how anxious she was for his health and that he must not exhaust himself. But his sense of duty was strong. He had been reviled – he still was – but he saw his duty clearly and he would perform it at no matter what cost.

News was coming in of disasters at the front. The greatest killer was disease. Cholera raged; dysentery and fever were commonplace; there was only salt pork to eat and not much of that; the weather was bitterly cold and the men’s moustaches froze to their faces. The hardship was terrible; there was the disaster of Balaclava and the terrible anxiety of waiting for good news which did not come. Men were dying in the Crimea and Miss Florence Nightingale had gone out to nurse them.