‘Mrs Lilly!’ cried the Queen. ‘But it is not yet time. Why have you arrived so soon?’
‘Ma’am,’ replied the nurse with dignity, ‘I come when I am sent for and His Highness Prince Albert gave strict instructions to come at once.’
She stormed into Albert’s study. ‘Really, Albert, this is too bad. I should know when to send for Mrs Lilly. I will not have you sending for people without my knowledge. I was astonished when she arrived.’
Albert passed his hand wearily over his forehead.
‘I see we have to deal with the Queen,’ he said.
‘You have to deal with a woman who is about to have a child and she begs to be allowed to say when the midwife shall be called. Any woman has that right … but …’
‘Yes, yes,’ said Albert, ‘but you are the Queen.’
‘And it will be well if some people remembered it more often.’
‘Some people?’ asked Albert.
‘Yes, Albert. All people.’
Albert stood up and bowed and was about to leave the study when she noticed how tired he looked and was filled with contrition.
‘Oh, Albert,’ she cried, ‘I am so bad tempered. And I wonder how you forgive me. It is just that I so dread the ordeal and this makes me as I am.’
Albert embraced her and stroked her hair. ‘I know,’ he said.
‘And you are so good and so calm always. Oh, Albert, please forgive me. I am so stupid.’
Then Albert murmured gently: ‘Do not cry. All will be well.’ And he added his favourite term of endearment: ‘Gutes Frauchen’.
‘Oh, yes,’ she cried, ‘while we have each other all is well.’
Three weeks or so after the fire the baby was born. It was a boy and the Queen decided to call him Leopold after that beloved uncle.
Sir James Clark had talked to her before explaining to her the use of chloroform in childbirth. He could see no danger in its use and it could be given when the agony was extreme. If the Queen agreed he would call in Dr Snow, who was an expert in these matters.
The Queen, who had before the birth of Leopold undergone the ordeal of child-bearing seven times and who was always apprehensive when her time drew near, welcomed the idea.
She was delighted with its effect.
Many women were grateful to her, for arguments against the use of chloroform had been raging throughout the country. Many people – mostly men, and women who were past child-bearing age – deplored its use as ‘going against nature’. If God had not meant women to suffer in this way He would not have made birth painful, therefore to alleviate pain was to go against God and nature. However, those to whom it could be useful were delighted that the Queen had come down on their side, for since Victoria had used it opinions changed. Chloroform was not merely, as the Queen had said, a ‘blessed relief’, it was fashionable.
The Queen recovered quickly from her confinement, not having to undergo such strain, but the child was smaller and more frail than his brothers and sisters and it was very soon discovered that he suffered from a strange disease. If for any reason he bled it was difficult to stop the bleeding.
The fact that she had produced a delicate child upset the Queen and because of this a fracas between herself and Albert would frequently occur. Albert remained patient and would calmly explain where she was wrong; he called her his ‘dear child’ which was meant to imply of course that she was somewhat fractious.
There was a great deal to worry about: Bertie’s naughtiness, which made him sometimes quite violent; Leopold’s fragility; and politics. A very unpleasant situation was blowing up between Russia and Turkey; Mr Gladstone was making himself tiresome in the House of Commons and Lord Aberdeen, finding himself unequal to the stresses all about him, wanted to resign.
Most alarming of all was Albert’s health. He would go into moods of depression; he was so ready to believe the worst and was so worried about the situation in Russia and Turkey; he had constant attacks of a kind of nervous fever which Sir James Clark could not diagnose; and he caught cold easily.
How she longed for summer days at Osborne and long autumn holidays at Balmoral. Only in those dear homes was she really at peace; and now that they had purchased Balmoral and pulled down the original place and Albert had designed a castle, it was just the ideal place, which after all was his creation, and he really had a genius for designing royal houses. Look at Osborne – that other happy home. And up at Balmoral their privacy was respected and even if any of the Highlanders of the village met them on the road they knew they must pretend not to see them. In the house and on the estate they had their good loyal servants and their wonderful gillies who looked after them so magnificently when they went out into the countryside, the Prince to shoot or stalk and the older boys with him. She often said to the Prince that she did not know what they would do without people like John Grant and John Brown.
Chapter XXII
CRIMEA
The Queen was in despair. That which she had always dreaded was threatened. War! She believed fervently that at all costs the country must keep out of war and there was one man who was trying to drag them into that unhappy state: Palmerston.
Palmerston was the man of the moment. The eyes of all Europe were on him. He was the strong man, not afraid to state his views, to offend the Queen and her husband, nor to give up office if need be. The people were convinced that Palmerston was the man to lead England.
No sooner had Sir John Russell insisted on his resignation than England’s enemies were exulting, and Nicholas, Emperor of Russia, threatened to annexe Turkey. Lord Malmesbury, the new Foreign Secretary, had had little experience of foreign affairs and his great desire was to fall in step with the Queen and Albert; Aberdeen’s policy was peace at any price. Only Palmerston, with the bulk of public opinion behind him, saw that the only way to prevent war was to take a firm hand and threaten it. If Russia believed that England would stand aside – which Palmerston fervently believed she could not without great damage not only to her prestige and status but to her commercial interests – Russia would swallow up Turkey and command not only the Black Sea but the Mediterranean.
Ever since the enforced resignation of Palmerston, Russia had been creeping nearer and nearer to Turkey and was poised ready to spring. The British lion stood up and growled at these onslaughts and then settled down again.
A climax came when Russia destroyed the Turkish fleet. Palmerston resigned, but the vacillating Aberdeen, while referring to Palmerston as ‘that obnoxious minister’, had at last seen that the policy Palmerston had suggested must be followed. Palmerston then withdrew his resignation.
Meanwhile the public, led by the press, had become aware of its weak government and Palmerston was the national hero.
Punch summed up the situation with a caricature of the Russian Emperor stuffing a Turkey into his pockets and saying: ‘I don’t mean any harm,’ while policemen representing France and England stood by watching.
Why, asked the press, was England remaining aloof, blind to her own interests? Because the Queen was against it. And who guided the Queen and was trying to rule the country through her? The Queen’s German husband.
If Palmerston had become the hero of the drama, Albert was chosen for the villain.