The Queen's Husband (55 page)

The Queen said that she and some of the children must go to visit Uncle Cambridge, who was very ill, and they must do their best to cheer him up. So with Bertie, Alfred and Alice and one lady-in-waiting, she set out. Uncle Cambridge was too ill for them to remain long and on their way back she was telling the children about the days when she lived in Kensington Palace. As they were turning in at the gates of Buckingham Palace the crowd came very close to the carriage. In view of those occasions when she had been shot at, the Queen felt a little nervous and was leaning forward to protect the children if necessary when suddenly a man stepped close to the Queen and lifting his heavy-handled cane brought it down with great force on her head. The fact that she was wearing a bonnet may well have saved her life. Before she lost consciousness she saw Bertie’s face flush scarlet and a bewildered Alfred and Alice staring at her in dismay.

Almost immediately she recovered from the faint and heard her lady-in-waiting say: ‘They’ve got him.’

People were crowding round the carriage. She cried: ‘I’m all right. I’m not hurt.’

This was not true; she was badly bruised and it was clear that the padded bonnet had saved her from great injury.

She had arranged to go to the Opera that evening and declared that she would not be put off by a few bruises delivered by a madman. Her reception at the Opera was such that it almost made it all worth while. Her forehead yellow and blue, a black eye and a throbbing headache could be forgotten in the loyal demonstrations of the people.

Her assailant turned out to be a certain Robert Pate, a man of good family whose father had been High Sheriff of Cambridge, and who himself had held a commission in the Army for five years. He was sentenced to seven years transportation. It was rather an alarming incident because it seemed without motive and Pate had shown no sign of insanity on any other occasion. Many people had often seen him strolling in the park, a dandy who swaggered somewhat but otherwise was normal.

The Queen did not believe he was insane, and she thought it was horrid that defenceless women should be so exposed. An attempt to kill her because of some imagined grievance or antagonism to monarchy would have been understandable, but to strike a defenceless young woman on her head with a cane was brutal and inhuman.

She shrugged the incident aside and thought of that unhappy wife, Lady Peel, and when she contemplated what widowhood meant she could not grieve long because of a knock on the head.

Uncle Cambridge died as they had expected he would and that was sad. She wrote to tell Uncle Leopold of it and added:

Poor dear Peel was buried today. The sorrow and grief at his death are so touching, and the country mourns over him as over a father. Everyone seems to have lost a personal friend … My poor dear Albert, who has been so fresh and well when we came back from Osborne, looks pale and fagged. He has felt, and feels, Sir Robert’s loss dreadfully. He feels he has lost a second father.

It was true. Albert was very depressed. He did get depressed rather easily. And what with this terrible attack on her, Uncle Cambridge’s death, the people who were so dreadfully carping about the proposed Exhibition and now the loss of Sir Robert, he thought the outlook was very gloomy indeed.

‘There were so many we could have spared more easily,’ he said; and she knew he was thinking of all those short-sighted people who were trying to foil his plans – and of course Lord Palmerston.

There was no doubt about it, Lord Palmerston was very trying.

For instance the affair of General Haynau was dreadfully mishandled by him. It was true that the General had come to England uninvited after being involved in the suppression of the Hungarian rising, during which he had become notorious for his excessive cruelty. There were rumours of his conduct which in the hands of the press were exaggerated no doubt, thought the Queen. In any case he was said to have hanged soldiers whom he captured, to have burned people alive in their houses and gone so far as to flog noblewomen. The cruelty practised by this man was an echo of mob behaviour during the French revolution.

Cartoons of him appeared in the press. Although these were caricatures the General had several distinguishing features (tall and thin, deep-set eyes and bushy brows) which were accentuated and he was immediately recognizable when one day he visited Barclay’s Brewery which he wanted to inspect. Unfortunately he wrote his name in the visitors’ book and this coupled with his rather striking appearance made it clear to the brewer’s employees that he was the notorious General. They were incensed and decided to show their disapproval and one man threw a load of straw down on his head which sent him sprawling in the yard.

There was a cry of: ‘Down with the Austrian butcher!’ and the workmen seized him and rolled him in the dirt; they let him get up and as he ran they ran with him; he escaped into a public house and ran upstairs, but the mob caught him and chased him down to the river’s edge and were about to throw him in when he was rescued by a police launch.

When the Queen heard what had happened she discussed it with Albert.

She was horrified, she declared. Whatever the man had done he was a visitor to these shores and he had been treated most inhospitably.

To ill-treat such a personage as the General was an insult to Austria and an apology must be sent without delay.

The Foreign Secretary was fully aware of this and when the Queen sent for him he took with him the draft of the apology. He arrived at the palace urbane and smiling, bowed to the Queen and gave that rather insolent greeting to the Prince which was almost a nod.

‘A very regrettable incident,’ said the Queen.

‘Very, Ma’am,’ agreed Palmerston. ‘And lucky it was for the fellow that the police came along, otherwise …’ Palmerston smiled almost with relish.

‘You have prepared the apology?’ She held out her hand, regal, as always, with this man whom she disliked.

He handed it to her.

It was worded to show that Palmerston had no sympathy with the General; it did express a certain mild regret that he had been mishandled but the final paragraph pointed out that he had been unwise to visit England in view of the reputation he had recently acquired.

When she came to the last paragraph the Queen was flushing hotly.

‘That will be considered quite insolent,’ she said. ‘It must be removed at once before the apology is sent.’

Palmerston smiled. ‘That cannot be,’ he said.

How dared he tell the Queen what could and could not be!

‘It has already gone, Your Majesty.’

She was speechless. So was Albert. How dared he send such a document without their approval.

‘We must immediately send a further apology,’ cried the Queen. Palmerston bowed his head, and said nothing.

‘So,’ went on the Queen, ‘you will prepare a draft, Lord Palmerston, and bring it to me for my approval, which will explain to the Austrian Government that there has been a slight error.’

Palmerston smiled blandly and shook his head.

‘No, Ma’am, it would not be possible for Your Majesty’s Foreign Secretary to take such an action.’

‘You mean you will not obey
my
wishes?’

‘I mean, Ma’am, that were you to insist on your Foreign Secretary’s taking such an action, I should no longer be Your Majesty’s Foreign Secretary.’

He then asked leave to retire and it was readily given. When he had gone the Queen’s wrath exploded. How dared he! She would accept his resignation. Master Palmerston should understand that he could not behave towards his Queen in such a manner.

It was Albert who had to soothe her, Albert who hated Palmerston as much as she did.

‘You cannot dismiss your Foreign Secretary, my love. That is for Lord John Russell to do. He is the Prime Minister.’

‘Then I shall make my wishes clear to him.’

‘My love, this fellow Palmerston is the strongest man in the government, alas. Russell could not stand against him. This is not the way.’

Of course she knew that Albert was right. Palmerston could not be dismissed as easily as that.

They discussed the man frequently.

‘If only Sir Robert were here,’ wailed the Queen. ‘He at least was a strong man.’

But Albert doubted whether even Sir Robert would have been able to stand up against Lord Palmerston.

There was tragic news from Uncle Leopold. Aunt Louise, who had been getting weaker for some time, had died.

Victoria, who had called her the best beloved of all her aunts, was desolate.

‘Poor dear Uncle Leopold,’ she cried. ‘It is the second time in his life that he has been left alone.’

It was very tragic and the Queen could not help thinking of the dear children who were left motherless.

‘How I wish we were nearer,’ she sighed.

As it was, there was nothing to be done but write long and loving letters to Uncle Leopold, assure him that both she and Albert thought of him constantly, read through his dear letters and remember the happy times she had spent in the company of dear dead Louise.

  Chapter XIX  

NAUGHTY BERTIE

Baron Stockmar disliked the Prince of Wales. The boy was as unlike his father as it was possible for any child to be. All that the Baron had admired in his protégé, Albert, was missing in Bertie. Albert was reserved, Bertie was loquacious. Bertie already showed signs of being a social success; he was charming the female servants – a very bad sign, noted the Baron. Bertie was gay, sunny-natured and enjoyed amusing people and being amused. In other words Bertie was frivolous. Although he was now learning moderately well he could not exactly be called academically bright. His brothers and sisters – with the exception of Vicky – were inclined to bestow on him that sort of hero worship which was not good for his character. Alfred and Alice were his constant companions. He was very chivalrous towards Alice and shielded her when they were in trouble; as for Alfred he was prepared to take any inferior role in their games just for the joy of serving Bertie.