The Queen's Husband Read online

  She had made a habit of going to the room in which Charlotte had died, and thinking of what her cousin must have suffered. It was like poor Lady John Russell.

  ‘I am afraid,’ she whispered, ‘that it will happen to me.’

  One day when she went to the room and stood there looking at the bed and imagining that last scene which Uncle Leopold had described in detail – how he had knelt by the bed and wept for his beloved Charlotte and how her last thoughts had been for him – she was filled with terror because it seemed like a recurring pattern. The child within her would be as that other child; she would be as the poor princess who had died in her ordeal, and dear Albert would be collapsing by the bed in his grief as Uncle Leopold had. Yes, a tragic pattern.

  The door handle turned silently. She gave a gasp. She thought it was the ghost of Charlotte come back from the grave to warn her that her end was near.

  It was Albert.

  ‘Victoria, what are you doing in this room?’ he asked.

  ‘I come here often.’

  ‘I know, and I ask why.’

  ‘In this room my cousin Charlotte died having her baby. Had she lived she would have been Queen of England.’

  ‘You should not come here, Victoria.’

  ‘I feel impelled to do so.’

  Then Albert spoke with the authority of a husband. ‘We are leaving Claremont tomorrow,’ he said.

  She just lay against him, comforted. For once he was to have his way.

  * * *

  They were back in London and, although Albert disliked the capital and was never in it without planning his next visit to the country where he might breathe the fresh air which made him feel so much more alive and healthy, he was excited and certainly apprehensive because he had been asked to preside at a meeting. This was to promote the abolition of the slave trade and he was to make his first speech in England.

  He was very nervous, he told Victoria. ‘I have to convince the people of my serious interest in affairs,’ he told her. ‘I do not wish them to think me frivolous.’

  ‘They could never think you that, Albert,’ she told him fondly.

  She had been very happy since he had drawn her away from her brooding at Claremont. ‘How very silly I was,’ she had said. ‘And you, dearest Albert, showed me so in the nicest possible way.’

  Yes, his attempt at playing the masterful husband had succeeded; and now, due to the joint efforts of Stockmar and Lord Melbourne, he was allowed to develop his interest in what was going on and this public appearance was the result.

  ‘It is very difficult to speak in English,’ said Albert.

  ‘You will manage admirably,’ the Queen told him. ‘Let me hear your speech.’

  It was short and, she said, excellent. She corrected his pronunciation and suggested he rehearse it again. She was delighted because she quickly knew it off by heart and could listen and correct without having to have the written version before her.

  ‘It is well to be a little nervous,’ the Queen assured him. ‘I do believe that all the best speakers are. Lord Melbourne says that when he is completely at ease he never really speaks well.’

  ‘Then I am comforted,’ said Albert, ‘because I am very nervous.’

  ‘Dearest Albert, I shall be thinking of you all the time.’

  ‘Which will give me the best of all comforts,’ he told her.

  When he returned to her he was elated. There had been loud applause, he said, and everyone had seemed so kind as though they liked him.

  ‘But of course they liked you,’ she told him indulgently. ‘How could they possibly do anything else unless they were monsters.’

  So he was happier. He was really beginning to have some importance. His interest in music was talked of and he was offered a directorship of one musical society.

  Lord Melbourne and Baron Stockmar looked on with benign pleasure.

  Soon he will have a big say in affairs, thought Stockmar.

  That will keep him out of mischief, was Lord Melbourne’s opinion.

  * * *

  It was ten days after Albert had made his speech, a lovely warm June day, ideal, said Albert, for a drive. Why should they not take one in the droshky?

  Victoria said that it would be delightful. ‘There is nothing I really like so much as riding out with you, Albert, especially when the people cheer us. I think they like to see us together.’

  Albert said that he found their drives in the country more delightful.

  ‘Dear Albert, I must make you try to like my capital city a little.’

  ‘There are too many people and the air is not as fresh as it is in the country.’

  ‘But it is more exciting. I have always loved London more than any other place.’

  ‘Then I must try to make you enjoy the pleasures of the country.’

  She smiled at him fondly. ‘Though I must confess, dear Albert, that the place I love best is where you are.’

  ‘Then let us be in the country more often and you will be happy.’

  ‘But I am just a little happier in London with you than I am in the country with you.’ She laughed loudly. ‘Oh, I shall have to make you love London. Think, there is the opera; there are concerts; there is the play; there are the streets and the people and everything is so lively.’

  Albert did not answer; but he was determined that they should escape to the country whenever possible.

  The droshky was at the door. They got in and drove away from the palace towards Constitution Hill, their escort following. There were plenty of people in the streets and they recognised their little sovereign at once. She looked very pretty seated beside her handsome husband; the youth of the pair was very appealing.

  As she sat there smiling she suddenly heard the sound of a shot close by. Albert had flung his arms about her as though to shield her.

  ‘My God!’ he cried. ‘Don’t be frightened.’

  ‘Frightened …’ she stammered; and then she saw the man stepping out into the road. He held a pistol in either hand. In that moment he fired straight at her. She bent forward just in time and the bullet went over her head.

  The crowd was shouting: ‘Get him. Kill him.’

  There was pandemonium on the footpath; she saw the man start to run but someone had seized him.

  ‘They’ve caught him,’ said Albert. The horses were whipped up and the droshky drove back towards the palace.

  * * *

  She was weeping in Albert’s arms.

  ‘Oh, Albert, it is so terrible. That man tried to kill me. Imagine. He hated me so much that he wanted me dead.’

  Albert stroked her hair.

  ‘He was a madman,’ he said.

  ‘But he hated me. He wanted me dead. He must have done. He had risked his own life to try to take mine.’

  ‘He did not hate you for yourself, my dearest. He wanted to kill the Queen. You’ll see, it will turn out that he was mad.’

  ‘To think, Albert … every time I go out … someone could kill me.’

  ‘My love, how do any of us know what will happen to us from one day to the next? You must not take this personally. This is a shot at the Crown … not at Victoria. Your Uncle George was shot at many times and so was your grandfather. People do these things; it is because of a madness.’

  ‘You would have protected me with your life, Albert. I shall never forget the first thing that entered your mind was to shield me.’

  ‘It is what I wish to do for the rest of our lives.’

  ‘Oh, Albert, how wonderful you are. I don’t deserve such a good kind husband.’

  Albert said that they would try to be worthy of each other.

  Then she said: ‘I must not cry, must I? I must remember that I am the Queen. I must learn to be calm and to take no notice when these things happen. I know my grandfather was very calm.’

  ‘So were you, my love. You drove on back to the palace. Many women would have fainted. Didn’t you hear the people cheering?’

  ‘I found th
e courage, dearest Albert, because you were beside me.’

  * * *

  Lord Melbourne called at the palace. The Queen was resting. The Prince had insisted that she should. He himself saw Lord Melbourne.

  The Prime Minister expressed his deep concern for the Queen’s health.

  ‘My great anxiety,’ said the Prince, ‘was that the shock might have been injurious to her condition.’

  ‘I trust not,’ said Lord Melbourne.

  ‘I feel that had it been so there would by now have been some sign. She appears to be well – just a little shaken, of course.’

  ‘Very natural,’ said Lord Melbourne, ‘and wise of Your Highness to insist on her resting.’

  ‘She will be gratified that you have called. I will acquaint her with the fact at the earliest possible moment.’

  Lord Melbourne studied the young man gravely. A good fellow, he thought; a little too solemn to make a very gay companion for Victoria. He doubted there was as much laughter between them as there was when the Queen and her Prime Minister were together. But perhaps a little seriousness would not come amiss. She was devoted to him. That was obvious. He hoped she would be as happy as she deserved to be, which was very happy indeed. She was so affectionate, so eager to be good, although fond of pleasure – and why not? Perhaps she would teach this solemn young gentleman to be a little more gay, which would not be a bad thing.

  But her happiness was bound up in the Prince. The marriage had already had its difficulties, which was understandable, considering the position and that rather imperious nature and choleric temper of Her Majesty.

  Lord Melbourne loved her. She had changed his life three years ago when she had become the Queen. He had been responsible to some extent for making her what she was, and her fresh youth, her exuberant warm-hearted nature, seemed to him quite charming. He had to concede his place in her affections, he knew, for once he had been the most important man in her life. Being Lord Melbourne he would graciously step aside and try to make life as easy as possible for the young married pair.

  ‘This terrible affair raises a problem,’ he said now. ‘It is a difficult subject to raise but however unpleasant – and of course unlikely – in view of Her Majesty’s position, it must be arranged.’

  Albert nodded. He guessed to what Lord Melbourne was referring.

  ‘The Queen’s life might have ended this afternoon.’

  Albert turned pale. He does love her, thought Lord Melbourne; not with the same intense emotion that she has for him, but he loves her in his quiet, restrained way. Who could help it?

  ‘It is distressing even to think of such a likelihood,’ went on Lord Melbourne. ‘But we must do so. There is another facet. In a short time the Queen will become a mother. She has an ordeal to face which has, on occasions, resulted in death. Forgive me, but these possibilities – though I hasten to add that in this case they are improbabilities – must be discussed.’

  ‘I realise that,’ said Albert.

  ‘A Regent should be appointed and as you know it is always necessary to prepare these matters in advance of the improbability.’

  ‘Whom would you suggest as Regent?’

  ‘I feel, and I am sure that the Queen would agree with me, that the best man for the post would be the Queen’s husband.’

  ‘I can only trust that such an eventuality will never arise.’

  ‘Amen,’ said Lord Melbourne.

  * * *

  Lord Melbourne wrote to the Queen that he was anxious about Her Majesty and was pleased to learn that she was well on the morning following that unfortunate incident.

  ‘It is impossible not to shudder at the thought of it,’ wrote Lord Melbourne.

  Viscount Palmerston wrote congratulating the Queen on her escape and begged to be allowed to express the horror with which he had heard of the diabolical attempt.

  Uncle Leopold’s letter said that he could not find words strong enough to express his horror at what had happened and his happiness and delight to hear of her escape from a danger which was very great indeed.

  When Lord Melbourne arrived he kissed both her hands and the tears started to his eyes.

  ‘It was terrible … terrible …’ he said.

  ‘But I escaped and all is well.’

  For which I can never be sufficiently grateful.’

  ‘And what of the man who tried to kill me?’

  ‘They have captured him. He is a barman named Edward Oxford. He is mad and will spend the rest of his days in a lunatic asylum.’

  ‘Poor man! How dreadful for him. But I am glad he was not in his right mind when he tried to kill me.’

  ‘He will have no opportunity to make more attempts.’

  ‘Dear Lord Melbourne,’ said the Queen, ‘I believe you are more shaken by this affair than I am.’

  Lord Melbourne said he thought that was very likely.

  Chapter VIII

  THE PRINCESS ROYAL

  The Baroness was disturbed. It was becoming increasingly clear that the Prince was establishing himself more firmly in the household and the closer he came to the Queen, must inevitably, as the Baroness saw it, drive a wedge between herself and Her Majesty.

  Victoria was as devoted and loyal as ever; Louise Lehzen held her sway by a mixture of complete devotion, overwhelming affection and a touch of the old governess authority which she had used to good effect when Victoria was a child. With the arrival of Lord Melbourne in the Queen’s life, Lehzen’s position had not been affected. She was still in command of the household. A husband, however, was a different proposition and the antagonism between her and Albert grew every day.

  She was terrified that one day he would ask for her dismissal. Victoria would never agree to that and for all her femininity and her demonstrations of affection, Lehzen knew better than anyone that behind this was a will of iron. She had to keep her hold on Victoria’s affections and this she could have done until the end of her life, but since Albert had come and shown so clearly that he was her enemy she was beginning to feel afraid. The fact that Lord Melbourne had now become his ally added to her perturbation.

  It had been very different when the Prime Minister had treated the Prince as of not much account, merely brought to the country to be a handsome husband for Her Majesty and of course to provide the heir. But if Lord Melbourne was going to treat him seriously and he was to have more say in affairs – and that meant affairs of the household as well as those of state – then the Baroness Lehzen could see trouble.

  ‘For,’ she told herself, as she sat disconsolately chewing her caraway seeds, ‘we were against each other from the first.’

  They understood each other too well. Two Germans living in a foreign land; in their way they were recognizable types. Albert’s precise discipline, his love of order, his seriousness, his lack of humour, were characteristics which the Baroness had seen so many times in her fellow countrymen. Her determination to keep what she had, her unswerving devotion, that sublimation of herself to an ideal – Albert would understand this.

  The trouble was that each felt that their only way to succeed was to be rid of the other.

  At first the Baroness had been delighted to see Albert relegated to blotting the Queen’s signature; she was the one who was in the Queen’s confidence; she had now and then read state papers and given her opinion; and the dear sweet Queen had listened as attentively as she used to in the old days when Lehzen told her stories as she did her hair.

  But between them, Anson the secretary, Baron Stockmar and Lord Melbourne were changing that.

  And now to make him Regent was the last straw.

  Victoria noticed her preoccupation.

  ‘Dearest Daisy, what is the matter?’ she asked. ‘You really are rather absent-minded, you know.’

  ‘Well, I may as well say it. You notice everything. I always did declare that it was impossible to hide anything from you. I feel put out.’

  ‘But why?’

  ‘It is this Regency. The idea! I j
ust can’t bear to think of it.’

  ‘Oh, that,’ said the Queen, it’s just a precaution, you know, in case …’

  Lehzen turned away. ‘How could they think of such a thing.’

  Victoria put her arms about Lehzen and hugged her. ‘You dear stupid old Lehzen,’ she said, ‘it doesn’t mean I’m going to die because they have arranged for a Regency.’

  ‘I don’t like it.’

  ‘Oh, dearest Daisy, nor do I. When I think of what lies before me … and poor dear Lady John Russell …’

  ‘My dearest love, I shall be at hand. I fear I may be rather brusque with some people if they try to keep me from you.’

  ‘You need have no fear of being kept from me. I should never allow that.’

  ‘I feel happier now.’

  ‘Silly Daisy! You should never have thought of such a thing.’

  ‘I can’t help it. I don’t like this idea of a Regency.’

  ‘It’s not so much the baby as the fact that that man shot at me. It could happen again and if it did … well there would be no sovereign, so a Regent would be necessary for a time.’

  ‘I can’t bear to think of it. If I could get my hands on that fellow who tried to hurt you …’

  ‘He was mad, Daisy. Lord Melbourne says he will be sent to an asylum.’

  ‘It terrifies me. I want to be at hand always to make sure.’

  ‘And so you shall. But don’t be alarmed, Daisy. Remember I have always been in some sort of danger. Do you remember how terrified you all used to be that my Uncle Cumberland was going to try to do away with me?’

  ‘And not without reason.’

  ‘Oh, Uncle Cumberland is a very wicked man. I’ve no doubt of that. And even now he’s the King of Hanover he probably still dreams of taking the crown of England. He must be gnashing his teeth now that he knows that I’m going to have a baby. Oh, Lehzen, do you think that he … I mean do you think that this man Oxford was paid by my uncle …’