‘It is a terrible thing to have happened.’
‘Perhaps it will pass. If the King is strong and has the Army with him …’
Albert shook his head. ‘It is a sad thing to see a monarchy totter. All royal houses must deplore it.’
‘And to think I was so angry with poor Louis Philippe only such a short while ago. I can’t bear to think of what he may be suffering at this moment. Such terrible things can happen. A mob can be fearful. To think it was such a short while ago that he sent the doll and the soldiers to the children. Who would have thought this possible!’
‘It is well for all of us to remember that this sort of thing could happen at any time.’
‘Not here, Albert. Not in England.’
Albert did not answer and she remembered what the people had been like at the time of the Flora Hastings scandal, and the stone that had been thrown at her carriage at the time of Flora’s funeral.
Fearfully she awaited news from France. There was nothing comforting when it came. It was a repetition of that terrible revolution at the end of last century. At midnight the tocsins had sounded throughout Paris, the sign for the people to rise. It was almost exact in detail. The royal family were in flight. Victoria could picture them hurrying across the Tuileries gardens and she was imagining it happening in Buckingham Palace.
‘Louis Philippe must fight,’ she had told Albert. ‘He cannot run away.’ But the French King had the terrible memory of the disaster which once before had overtaken his family. He had no wish to suffer as they had and when he was presented with an act of abdication he immediately signed it. He was so fearful that he said to everyone who came near him, ‘J’abdique, j’abdique.’
When the Queen heard she buried her head in her hands. She could not get out of her mind the picture of the mob’s marching on Buckingham Palace.
The palace was alive with rumours. The French family had arrived, said some. They were smuggled into the palace. Others said they had been executed by the mob.
‘There are always rumours,’ said Albert.
Lord Palmerston called. The Queen swallowed her dislike and received him immediately. Albert remained with her.
Palmerston bowed to the Queen and gave Albert that benign smile which suggested he thought him a young man of no great importance, but since he was the Queen’s husband he would indulgently allow him to be present while business was discussed.
‘Your Majesty,’ said the Foreign Minister, ‘it seems certain that the King of France, if he escapes, will try to reach England. If Your Majesty wished to put a ship at his disposal the Foreign Office would have no objection, but I must warn you that if Your Majesty attempted to harbour royalists, the country might object.’
‘I don’t understand you, Lord Palmerston. Are you suggesting that I should turn my own family away?’
‘I am suggesting, Ma’am, that taking into consideration the state of the country at the moment – Your Majesty will have been made aware that there has been a certain amount of unrest in various areas – it would not be wise to make too great a show of supporting the royalist cause.’
‘Lord Palmerston, we are royal,’ said the Queen imperiously.
Lord Palmerston bowed, smiling his superior smile as though he realised he must placate the children.
‘Ma’am,’ he said, ‘it is my duty – and I am sure Your Majesty would always insist that I should not shirk that – to warn you that there is unrest throughout Europe. A revolution in one country could spark off one in others. Like fire revolution can easily spread.’
‘Do you suggest that here in England …’
Lord Palmerston as usual had no compunction in interrupting the Queen. ‘I suggest, Ma’am, that we should take every precaution that it should not happen here. Many of the small kingdoms of Europe are shaking at this moment, Ma’am. The success of the revolutionaries in France will inspire others throughout Europe.’
Albert spoke then. ‘This is so,’ he said, and Victoria could see by the expression on his face that he was thinking of Ernest and Alexandrine in Coburg.
The Queen was calmer.
‘Very well,’ she said. ‘At least I may offer my relations the means of escape.’
Uncle Leopold was in a ferment of anxiety:
I am unwell in consequence of the awful events in Paris. How will this end? Poor Louise is in a state of despair which is pitiful to behold. What will soon become of us God alone knows; great efforts will be made to revolutionise this country; as there are poor and wicked people in all countries, it may succeed.
Against France we, of course, have a right to claim protection from England and the other powers. I can write no more. God bless you.
Poor Uncle Leopold. What anxiety must be his! He was so near to France, so close to the French royal family. And Aunt Louise, what was she thinking?
And from poor stricken Aunt Louise:
My dearly beloved Victoria, I understand by an account arrived this morning, and which seems to be correct, that my unfortunate parents arrived in England before yesterday evening; but I don’t know where they are.
There was a letter enclosed which Louise begged Victoria, if she were able, to give to her mother. Before sealing her letters Louise had heard that her parents were in London.
‘I thank God from the bottom of my heart for their safety,’ she wrote. ‘In my agony I did not wish for anything else.’
What terrible times! Poor Albert was very depressed and unhappy. She knew his thoughts were with Ernest in Coburg. He was picturing the mob marching on the palace there; he would see them with their greedy hands on the treasures of Rosenau.
Lord Palmerston called on the Queen and in Albert’s company she received him.
‘Your Majesty will be pleased to hear that the King and Queen of France have arrived safely in England,’ he told her.
The Queen said that the news was the best she had heard since this terrible revolution had begun.
‘I have a communication from a Mr Featherstonhaugh, our consul at Le Havre. When the King and Queen came to Le Havre he had everything ready for their embarkation. It was not easy. You will see that Mr Featherstonhaugh arranged for the King and Queen to have passports in the name of Mr and Mrs Smith and the King was disguised. It was necessary for him to shave off his whiskers, wear a casquette – a sort of cap – on his head, a coarse overcoat and a pair of goggles.’
‘The poor King!’ cried Victoria. ‘And the Queen … how she must have suffered!’
‘Mr Featherstonhaugh should be congratulated,’ went on Lord Palmerston. ‘By great ingenuity and at considerable risk to himself he smuggled the King and Queen on board. An hour after the steamer sailed gendarmes were at the quay waiting to arrest them.’
‘So they are safe!’ sighed the Queen. ‘Where can they go?’
Albert said: ‘I suppose there would be no objection to their going to Claremont. It is almost a private residence.’
Lord Palmerston bowed his head. ‘I think,’ he said, ‘that the royal French family might find refuge in Claremont.’
It was so worrying. There were riots all over the country although these were not quite of the same nature as those which had occurred in France and other European countries. People at home, comforted Lord John Russell, were not quite so excitable as they were abroad, which was well. Revolutions never brought gain to a country, least of all to the people who created them. The trouble in England was mainly the risings of the Chartists, who wanted more privileges for the working classes. They were not satisfied with the Reform Bill and wanted more than had been granted them.