Виктория Холт - The Widow of Windsor

A pity, thought the Queen, that she did not remain faithful to her husband. Mr Langtry thought the same; he remonstrated with his wife; she must give up this social life in London and go with him to Ireland; or they might sail on his yacht back to Jersey. Her extravagance was ruining him and the scandal she created must surely be ruining her.

At this the Jersey Lily wept and stormed. She had no intention of going back. For one thing the Prince of Wales would never allow it.

Mr Langtry did point out that as he was her husband he thought he might have more say in the matter than the Prince of Wales. It was the beginning of the end of the marriage, but Lillie continued to dazzle the Prince.

Unencumbered by a husband whom she ignored more than ever, she found life very agreeable. As for Bertie he was deeply enamoured – far more so than he had been over any of his previous conquests.

Alix suffered in silence while the Jersey Lily flourished, and everywhere Bertie was, she was sure to be.

* * *

Leopold, shrugging aside his loss of Lillie to his brother, decided to travel on the Continent for a while. In Frankfurt he met Princess Helen Frederica Augusta, daughter of the Prince of Waldeck-Pyrmont. She had a strong and interesting personality and Leopold had wanted to marry for a long time, if only to show that he was well enough to indulge in normal activities.

‘Leopold marry!’ said the Queen when she heard. ‘But he is not strong enough.’

Bertie thought he should be allowed to see if he were strong enough and Leopold was determined not to be wrapped in cotton wool.

‘If he could lead an ordinary married life so much the better,’ said the Queen.

‘Give him a chance to try,’ retorted Bertie.

Leopold was created Duke of Albany and betrothed.

* * *

Lillie was for a time like a moth dancing madly about a candle, but when she became pregnant it was necessary to retire from society for a while. Whose was the child? Perhaps the Prince of Wales was the father? Who could be sure?

Everything went wrong at once. Mr Langtry became bankrupt and left Lillie who had ruined him, he declared; there was a rumour that Lillie was to be cited in a divorce case; many hostesses who had eagerly welcomed her to their houses no longer did so; and when she walked in the Park they looked the other way.

The Prince of Wales was not in London; and everyone was sure that when he did return Lillie Langtry would have become a distant memory to him – that was if he ever thought of her at all.

Lillie took a small room and stared disaster in the face. Many would say it was the just reward of sin. She had danced in the sun for a while; and now the sun had disappeared, and she was left to face the consequences.

She still had her astounding beauty and if it was impaired, for she was heavily pregnant, once the child was born she would regain it. She would start again. She had always wanted to act; and she was sure that if she could make a name for herself on the stage she would win back all the adulation she had had before, even if in not such high places.

She wept a little for Teddy, as she had called him, who had been such a kind and chivalrous lover. It was not only the dignity of his title that appealed; Teddy was a very charming man; she would never have another such lover.

She must live through the next months; she must have her child and then when she was completely recovered see what could be done. She had enough money to carry her through until then.

Her landlady was knocking at the door. There was a visitor to see her. A gentleman.

Lillie stood up hastily and looked at her reflection in the glass.

‘You look lovely, my dear,’ said the landlady; and in fact it was difficult for Lillie in any circumstances to appear otherwise.

‘What is his name?’

‘He wouldn’t give it. He said a friend of yours.’

‘All right,’ said Lillie. ‘Bring him up.’

She could scarcely believe it. He stood in the doorway – square, a little squat, the beard hiding the rather weak receding chin.

‘Teddy!’ she breathed. And then, ‘Your Highness.’

Teddy smiled delightedly, and looking round the room grimaced.

‘It’s the best I could afford,’ she told him; ‘and the landlady is kind.’

‘My poor Jersey Lily,’ cried Bertie. ‘But you’re as beautiful as ever.’

He drew up a chair to the table and regarded her.

‘You should have let me know,’ he said.

‘I’m being cut in society.’

‘You wouldn’t have been if I’d been there.’ Bertie’s blue eyes were quite beautiful when he smiled.

‘You know Edward Langtry is bankrupt … and everyone blames me. I am to have a child. Hostesses don’t want me at their parties now.’

‘You’ll change that,’ said Bertie.

She was unsure of his attitude; he was not the same passionate lover as he had been; but he was still the staunch friend. Lillie was adventuress enough to adjust her mood to his.

She said quickly: ‘I’d like to go on the stage. I think I might have a chance. If I could only get a start …’

Bertie clapped his hand to his thigh enthusiastically. ‘Why, Lillie, it’s just the thing. You’d be irresistible.’

Bertie was excited.

‘The difficulty is getting a start,’ she told him.

‘That should not present insurmountable difficulties,’ beamed Bertie. ‘You leave this to me.’

Bertie left her considerably heartened; and very soon he was back to see her. He brought with him a friend of his, an actor-manager named Squire Bancroft.

‘This fellow controls the Prince of Wales’s and the Haymarket theatres,’ he said. ‘You two should have a talk.’

* * *

Bertie had proved himself to be a loyal friend. Of all the people she had known he was the one who had come to her aid; and the manner in which he did it made his help so easy to accept. Bertie was delighted to be of assistance; not only was he giving her an opportunity, he was going to do all in his power to see that she was a success.

An astute businessman such as Squire Bancroft was fully aware that a play featuring Lillie Langtry, the well-known beauty and friend of the Prince of Wales, could not fail to be a success; particularly if the Prince gave his continued support. At a suitable time after the birth of her daughter Lillie went into rehearsal and the following February she appeared in Ours which had as its setting the Crimean War. It was a comedy and if Lillie was not a great actress she was a great beauty and London flocked to see her. Moreover the Prince of Wales was in the audience, and it seemed that the play would go on running for a very long time. Offers came from America, and as she became more experienced Lillie began to show a certain talent.

Lillie was happy, going from success to success; and Bertie was extremely gratified. They had ceased to be lovers, but as in the case of many of his mistresses he remained one of her most staunch and loyal friends.

The Queen had arrived from London and left the train and stepped into the waiting carriage which was to take her to Windsor Castle. As she sat there waiting for the horses to start up, John Brown suddenly leaped down from the box and putting a white, worried face through the window, said: ‘A man’s just fired at Your Majesty’s carriage.’

The Queen sat back against the upholstery feeling slightly faint. This was the seventh attempt at assassination. The last time she had been saved by good faithful John Brown. She wondered what had happened this time to avert the hand of death.

She was soon to learn. Two boys from Eton who had watched her arrival had seen the man lift his pistol; one of them had knocked it out of his hand with his umbrella before he could fire it; the other had hit him with his umbrella, clinging to him and holding him until he could be arrested.

The carriage took her off to Windsor where her faithful servants, under the command of John Brown, fussed over her and made her comfortable and insisted on her resting – which made her smile since she was the Queen, yet comforted her to realise what faithful servants she had.

It was all very distressing for the pistol which had been aimed at her had this time been loaded; but the public indignation was so great and there were so many demonstrations of loyalty that it seemed the Queen had never been so popular.

She was touched by all this concern; and when it was proved that the man – a certain Roderick McLean – was mad, she felt that it was worth while being shot at to realise how much her people loved her.

Mr Gladstone arrived, all concern and displaying the humility he never failed to show in her presence but which for some odd reason irritated her, to congratulate her on her escape and to, as she told Brown afterwards, address her as a public meeting as usual.

‘It is a great consolation to realise, M’am,’ said Mr Gladstone, ‘that whereas rulers of other countries are attacked for political motives, in the case of Your Majesty those who have raised their hands against you have all been lunatics.’

Yes, there was some comfort in that. There would always be lunatics and sovereigns would often be the targets of their lunacy, she supposed.

‘I should like to show my appreciation to those two brave boys.’

‘An excellent idea, Your Majesty.’ ‘The Grand Old Man’ as the people ridiculously called him, was rubbing his hands with glee, she noted. His great aim seemed to be to get her before the public through any reason whatsoever. As if she did not see through him! How different from dear Lord Beaconsfield!

‘I could send for the boys,’ she said.

‘Excellent, Your Majesty. It would be even better to honour the school for the bravery of these two. Perhaps if Your Majesty could have the entire school assembled in the quadrangle and address them yourself, telling them of your gratitude and then personally speak to the two brave boys, that would give great pleasure to so many people and public acclaim for such an action would be great.’

The idea appealed to her, even though it was Mr Gladstone’s; and she decided this was what she would do.

So nine hundred Eton scholars visited Windsor and the two boys received the Queen’s personal thanks for their actions.

As for Roderick McLean, he was sent for trial on a charge of High Treason. He was judged not guilty but insane and sent to an asylum ‘during her Majesty’s pleasure’.

When the Queen heard the verdict she was indignant.

‘Not guilty!’ she cried. ‘A man holds a loaded pistol at his Queen and would have fired if a brave boy had not knocked it out of his hand with his umbrella, and he is not guilty!’

Mr Gladstone explained that this was the law.

‘Then,’ said the Queen with asperity, ‘it is time the law was altered.’

Mr Gladstone pointed out that no alteration in the law could change the future of McLean. He was only fit to be in a lunatic asylum.

‘Not Guilty!’ cried the Queen. ‘That is what I object to. Any man can raise his hand against me and plead not guilty even though he has been seen to shoot.’

Mr Gladstone promised to look into the matter. The Queen felt very strongly that anyone who had attempted to kill her should not get off lightly for fear others would be led to follow the example.

The Queen’s ministers saw the reason for the Queen’s anxiety; and soon afterwards an Act was passed introducing a new form of verdict for cases like those of Roderick McLean.

* * *

The Queen would not allow the assassination attempt to interfere with Leopold’s marriage which was due to take place the following month. Mr Gladstone had, she must admit, worked hard to get Parliament to raise Leopold’s allowance to £25,000 a year, though there had been the usual dissenters which was so humiliating. Forty-two members had, in a most uncouth manner, voted against it but fortunately it was passed with a majority of 345.

So Leopold was married to Princess Helen, that rather forceful young woman whom the Queen had regarded at first with some horror because she dared to disagree with her formidable mama-in-law, but she was surprised that she found this attitude refreshing and very soon she became fond of the young woman, particularly as she was quite good-looking and she believed that she would be good for Leopold – who was a bit of a rebel himself.