The Prussians with their allies, the Austrians, were having success after success. Palmerston pointed out that they were determined on conquest and, he thought, not only of the two Duchies in question. If some effort was not made, they would soon take Denmark itself. Since the rise of Bismarck, this had been their aim.
Lord John said it was what Bismarck meant by Blood and Iron. He wanted a Europe under German domination. He must be shown that Britain would not countenance that.
Lord Palmerston said, “I have told the Austrian ambassador that if the Austrian fleet goes into the Baltic, they will find the British fleet meeting them there.”
“This is almost like an act of war,” I cried.
“Necessary, Ma'am,” said Palmerston. “And in the name of the government I must ask Your Majesty not to show preference for the Prussians.”
I stared at him in dismay. How dared he tell me what I must or must not do—that gouty old man and Lord John with him! They should have retired long ago. They were two dreadful old men. And here they were, reproaching me, telling me what I ought to think, what I ought to do for the sake of the country!
“The Prince Consort was of the opinion that we should keep out of war unless it was of the absolute necessity to make it. He would never have agreed to make war on the Germans.”
“The Prince was a German, Your Majesty,” replied Palmerston. “He was naturally devoted to his own country. But we, Ma'am, are English… and equally devoted to ours.”
The insolence! None but Palmerston would dare!
“War never did anyone any good.”
“It seems to be doing something for the Prussians. They will have Schleswig-Holstein—and Denmark, too, if they are allowed to. We cannot stop their taking the Duchies, Ma'am, and there are some who say they have a claim to them; but they must not be allowed to walk into Denmark.”
I was glad when they left. I had really felt very angry. But I had impressed on them that if they decided to declare war I should dissolve Parliament.
Palmerston did not want to go to war. He was wise enough to know the folly of that. But his sympathies were with Denmark.
“We want more than sympathy,” said Alexandra pathetically.
But we were not in a position to give more. Palmerston would send the fleet to the Baltic, much as he had sent out his gunboats, and that would prevent Prussia's invasion of Denmark, for no country would seek confrontation with the British fleet. Palmerston had hoped Napoleon would intervene. After all, geographically he was nearer to the area than we were. If Napoleon had gone in to help Denmark, we might have done so. I was glad he did not, for that would have meant our fighting against Vicky and Fritz.
What a dreadful state of affairs!
The matter was settled by April. The war was over. Prussia had taken Schleswig-Holstein. Alexandra was very unhappy and Bertie was sympathetic to her. Vicky and Fritz were triumphant; and once again I had to admit that Palmerston's methods had kept us out of war in spite of the exhortations of my family on all sides and the thoughtless urgings of the Press and people.
True, all along I had asked myself: What would Albert have done? But I had acted without his advice. I felt a certain gratification; and it was possible that my grief had lifted a little.
THERE WERE CONTINUAL complaints about my seclusion. I could not bear to be in London. In the winter I was at Osborne and in summer in Scotland. Palmerston was constantly telling me of the people's discontent, and what great good luck it was that the Prince of Wales was so socially inclined.
I said I thought the Prince led rather a rackety life at which the Prime Minister smiled as though it was a very laudable thing to do.
He came down to Osborne with a piece of paper on one occasion. This, he said, had been attached to the gates of Buckingham Palace and he thought he ought to show it to me.
He smirked as he handed it to me.
“These Premises to be let or sold in consequence of the late Occupants declining business.”
“What impertinence!” I said.
“It shows what the people are thinking, Ma'am. We should always be grateful when they let us know what is in their minds.”
“Don't they understand?”
“Oh yes, Ma'am. They understand Your Majesty needs a period of mourning. What they are hinting is that it is of rather long duration. It is not wise for sovereigns to hide too long from the public. However, as I have said, we are fortunate in the Prince of Wales who is doing Your Majesty such a service.”
I could imagine them—Bertie and Alexandra—riding through the streets and all the gossip about Bertie's flamboyant life, which seemed to please the people. It was ironic when one thought how suspicious they had been of Albert who had done so much good for them with so little appreciation. But Bertie with his card parties and his fast friends…oh, he was a hero! And there was Alexandra, now sad and claiming their sympathy because we had failed to come to her family's aid and had allowed the Prussians—always hated—to take Schleswig-Holstein.
Uncle Leopold wrote. He seemed to know everything that was going on, and he had heard of the popularity of the Prince and Princess of Wales.
“It would seem that you have abdicated and handed over the crown to Bertie.”
That disturbed me. What would Albert have said? He had always believed that Bertie would be incapable of ruling unless he changed considerably. And had Bertie changed? He was still as unlike Albert as he had ever been, and he had more opportunity now of showing that dissimilarity. No. The last thing Albert would have wished was for Bertie to take my place.
I went to London. I rode through the streets in an open carriage. The people turned out in their multitudes to see the sad bereaved Queen who could not forget her husband.
The cheers were deafening.
Palmerston was delighted. “Your subjects have had the chance to show their love and loyalty, Ma'am,” he said.
I was gratified. They had reminded me that I was the Queen. No one—not even Bertie and Alexandra—had had a welcome like that.
“Your Majesty must give your subjects further opportunities of expressing their love for you,” went on Palmerston.
Must I? Nobody said must to the Queen. I had no intention of coming out of my seclusion.
WHILE I WAS at Osborne, Dr. Jenner said I was not taking enough exercise. I told him that I had no heart for such things. Everywhere I went I was reminded of the Prince Consort. Of course, I was reminded of him in the house as well—but I just had no inclination to walk or ride.
Then one day Dr. Jenner came to me and told me he had taken a step of which he hoped I would approve. He had consulted with the Princess Alice who had begged him to go ahead as she thought it an excellent idea; he had also consulted Sir Charles Phipps.
I wondered what he was talking about. Sir Charles Phipps was the Keeper of the Privy Purse. It was all rather mysterious and he was so long in coming to the point.
“Your Majesty may not be pleased. If so, that can easily be rectified.”
“Do please tell me what this is all about.”
“We have taken the liberty of bringing one of your Scottish servants to Osborne, Ma'am. He looked after you so well in Scotland and Your Majesty was always so pleased with his service. We thought it could be to Your Majesty's benefit.”
“One of my servants from Scotland!”
“John Brown, Your Majesty. He was so pleased to come. If you do not wish him to be here, he can be sent back at once.”
I was smiling. John Brown…in Osborne! I laughed. “I am pleased to have him here. Yes…very pleased. I was just wondering how John Brown would feel about being here.”