The Queen's Husband (60 page)

The war was no longer glorious and everyone was longing for its end.

England’s government was weak. That much was certain. Lord Aberdeen had no stomach for war; he was almost ready to put into practice his policy of peace at any price. What the country needed was a strong man and it looked to Palmerston, who had prophesied that the war was inevitable months before the government had realised it, who had reiterated that had he been at the Foreign Office a firm line would have been taken with the Russians and war would have been avoided. He was a prophet; he was the strong man; the country called out for Palmerston.

Lord Aberdeen resigned and the Queen sent for Lord Derby but he could not form a government. Then she sent for Lord John Russell.

Lord John Russell shook his head. ‘Your Majesty,’ he said, ‘it will have to be Palmerston.’

‘No!’ cried the Queen. ‘Not … that man.’

Lord John lifted his shoulders. ‘The people will only be satisfied with Lord Palmerston.’

She dismissed Lord Russell and went to Albert. She told him what Russell had said. Albert shook his head wearily.

‘Albert, we could be firm. We could stand out. We could refuse.’

‘We could,’ said Albert, ‘but we dare not.’

‘Albert,
I
am the Queen.’

‘Yes, my love, you are the Queen, but sovereigns rule by the will of the people, as the French royal family discovered. The country is desperate; the war is not going well, and the people want Palmerston.’

‘They do not understand. He is an old man. I believe he
paints
his face to give himself a good colour. He is seventy-one and he has lived a very immoral life.’

‘It is not only that the English want him. The rest of Europe fears him. If he were at the head of affairs there would be a change in opinion of us and that would be reflected in the progress of the war.’

‘Albert, you too!’

‘And you too, my dear. This is too big an issue for personal prejudices. You and I cannot like or admire this man but the world has made up its mind that he is the one to lead this country to victory.’

The Queen saw that she had no alternative. She was forced to sink her pride and send for Lord Palmerston.

He arrived jaunty as ever, knowing full well why she had sent for him and what it had cost her to do so.

‘Lord Palmerston, I have called you to ask if it is possible for you to form a Ministry.’

Palmerston was confident. ‘Why yes, Ma’am,’ was his answer. ‘I could undertake with a fair prospect of success to form an administration which will command the confidence of Parliament and effectually conduct public affairs in the present momentous crisis.’

The news was out. Newsboys shouted it; the people in the streets called to each other, ‘Have you heard?’

The cry went on: ‘Palmerston is in. The war will now soon be over.’

They were right. Palmerston was the man who was needed. By the end of the year negotiations to end the war were in progress and a conference was being arranged to take place in Vienna to discuss them. This proved to be abortive but the change in the situation since Palmerston had taken over was apparent to all. The war dragged on but there was a new spirit of optimism. Cartoons showed Palmerston as a boy with a broom energetically sweeping away disorder. ‘This is the greatest mess I ever saw at anybody’s house,’ ran the caption. And everyone believed this to be a fair comment. It was only people like Benjamin Disraeli – who had hoped for the premiership himself – who expressed dissatisfaction. He called Palmerston an imposter, ‘ginger beer not champagne even at the height of his powers’ and now an ‘old painted pantaloon, very deaf, very blind, with false teeth’ which were always on the point of falling out of his mouth. But no one was interested in the ravings of jealous politicians; people wanted the war conducted in such a manner as to bring it to an early end.

When the Emperor Nicholas died suddenly hopes soared. He had been killed by ‘pulmonary apoplexy’ it was said but many construed this as a broken heart. The war had not been the easy victory for which he had hoped. Lord Palmerston had changed everything. The Tsar had seen his beautiful cities laid waste and it had all been too much for him.

The Queen could not help shedding a tear. ‘He was such a handsome man,’ she said.

Albert would remember how he had visited them and had descended on them so suddenly without warning and she had been so put out because she was heavily pregnant with dear Alfred.

Albert remembered well.

‘I remember what wild eyes he had. It was because you could see the white all round his pupils and his eyelashes were so light. Lady Lyttleton said they gave his eyes no shade. He certainly did look a little sinister – and so he turned out to be. But I remember he was charming to me.’

Another death! And although many rejoiced in this one she could not bear hearing of the deaths of people whom she had known.

At the back of her mind was the fear that it might happen to someone very near and dear to her. She was afraid that little Leopold might meet with some accident and they be unable to stop his bleeding; she would not face the fears she sometimes felt when Albert was ill.

After all she told herself,
I
am older than he is. Only three months it was true, but still they were both young and he
was
her junior.

The war progressed. The Queen reviewed her troops and distributed medals. She called the soldiers her ‘
dear brave
army’. ‘I am so
proud
of them,’ she said.

A new order was made – the Victoria Cross – and in the May of 1855 she awarded this to sixty-five heroes from the Crimea.

Then the Emperor Napoleon paid a visit to England with his beautiful Empress Eugénie. They were fêted everywhere and the Queen, who had been so much against them because friendship with them would have been so disloyal to the Orleans family, found them charming. The Emperor was so unaffected; his wife the Empress Eugénie so beautiful. She was tall and slender and when they were together the contrast between her and the Queen was almost comical, the Queen being so tiny and inclined to plumpness. Napoleon made the same contrast with Albert. Albert was tall and handsome, although his hair was thinning and he looked so pale and wan sometimes; the Emperor was very short and his head seemed too big for his body to support. He was very dashing, though, with his enormous moustaches and knew very well how to say the gallant thing to ladies, which of course Albert never did.

There was something rather scandalous about them both. There was a faint possibility that Lord Palmerston could have been Eugénie’s father for he was very friendly with her mother just before her birth. So, it seemed, were several other members of the nobility. There was a story that the lady had responded to this scandal by saying sharply: ‘Impossible,’ and adding, ‘the dates would rule that out.’ As for the Emperor, before he had come to power he had lived in England in quite a humble fashion and had once waited with the crowds in the park to see the Queen ride by on her way to the Houses of Parliament.

The children were fascinated by the visitors. Eugénie seemed to Vicky the most beautiful creature she had ever seen. She declared that she wanted to be just like her. Bertie’s admiration was for the Emperor. He could not take his eyes from the little man and the Emperor delighted in this admiration. He talked to Bertie as though he were one of his generals and Bertie confided that he wanted to be a soldier more than anything else on earth.

‘You’ll be a good one,’ said the Emperor and added with a grin, ‘I should like to have you in my army.’

Bertie thought of being in the Emperor’s army and compared it with all the tasks that had to be completed under the unattractive Mr Gibbs, and of his own father and Baron Stockmar who were determined that he should have no spare time at all in which to enjoy life.

‘I wish you were my father,’ said Bertie.

Of course there must be a return visit and Victoria and Albert, taking with them the Prince of Wales and the Princess Royal, crossed in the royal yacht and visited Paris where they were received with great pomp by the Emperor and his Empress.

Bertie was delighted with everything he saw. Paris was the most enchanting city he had ever imagined; he loved the crowds of excited people and of course the Emperor was there.

They visited the Paris Exhibition and Napoleon’s tomb; they watched the firework displays at Versailles and admired the flowers in the
Jardin des Plantes
. An exciting fairyland it seemed to the thirteen-year-old Prince.

The Queen was delighted too. It was such a pleasant way of doing her duty. The Emperor paid such delightful compliments and gave her such looks that secretly shocked her. He was a very worldly man, but he certainly made a woman feel beautiful and desirable and that was comforting. Not that she could ever think of any other man but Albert but it was pleasant to know that she was admired … for Albert’s sake of course.

The visit came to an end all too soon and they must return to England, to the political conflicts and preoccupation with the war. That fortunately was now in its last stages. There was a conference in Paris which was to end in peace.

The Queen could not help being grateful to Lord Palmerston because she had to admit that when he had come to office things had begun to change. She was even ready to admit that had he remained at the foreign office there might not have been a war at all.

‘One must be just,’ said the Queen. ‘And it was a most unsatisfactory war.’

  Chapter XXIII  

A PROPOSAL FOR VICKY

As they walked in the gardens of Buckingham Palace arm in arm, Albert explained his plan to the Queen.

‘I want you to ask Prince Frederick of Prussia here for a visit … soon.’

‘But of course, Albert. That will be delightful. I love having visitors.’

‘This is rather more important than an ordinary visit,’ explained Albert. ‘I am thinking of Vicky.’

‘Vicky. And the Prince you mean? Vicky is only fourteen.’

‘It is very young,’ said the Prince. ‘Too young. But Fritz is twenty-four, which is not so young. I am afraid that if we wait too long a match might be made for him elsewhere.’