Victoria Victorious: The Story of Queen Victoria

by Виктория Холт

  They brought home Leopold's body and it was buried in St. George's Chapel at Windsor.

  Two children lost to me as well as my beloved husband!

  Three months after Leopold's death, Helen gave birth to a son.

  * * *

  THE POLITICAL SITUATION was worrying; and each month it was brought home to me that Mr. Gladstone's methods were not those that had proved so successful in Lord Beaconsfield's day.

  The trouble came from Egypt, which was at that time almost entirely administered by us. The inhabitants of the Sudan were led by a fanatical man called the Mahdi; and they were now menacing the Egyptian frontier. It was the task of the English government to decide whether to put down the rebellion or abandon the Sudan and cut it off from Egypt. The decision to abandon it was naturally taken by Gladstone and his supine supporters. How different it would have been if Lord Beaconsfield had been in command! Gladstone was terrified of what he called Imperialism. Had we been stronger in Egypt, as we should have been under Lord Beaconsfield, the Mahdi would never have risen against us. People like Gladstone with their weak so-called peace-loving policies, were the ones who were responsible for wars. We were drawn into these affrays through our weakness, never through our strength. Lord Palmerston had realized that and what was called his gun-boat policy had triumphed again and again. He believed in sending out a warning before hostilities commenced. Now the garrisons in Sudan must be rescued. The government was naturally dilatory in this, but the public demanded that General Gordon be sent out in order to negotiate with the Mahdi about the release of the beset garrisons.

  I was very anxious particularly when Gordon was besieged by the Mahdi's forces in Khartoum. Again and again I warned the government that forces must be sent out to aid Gordon, but the government was afraid of war. I was glad to say that the public was with me, and finally Lord Wolseley was sent out to Gordon's aid. But he arrived too late. Khartoum was stormed and Gordon killed before Wolseley could get there.

  I was horrified and so ashamed of my government. I told them I keenly felt the stain left on England. I had a bust made of Gordon and set up in one of the corridors of the castle.

  I hoped the government would see the error of its ways. I hoped they would recall Lord Beaconsfield's energy and genius, which they called Imperialism. They did not understand that having attained the territories we must support them and never, never show weakness.

  I was deeply concerned about the garrisons in Sudan and bitterly ashamed of our performance there.

  The entire mission was a failure and as a result, the Sudan, which should never have been separated from Egypt, lapsed into barbarism.

  Oh dear Lord Beaconsfield! I wondered if he was looking down in dismay at what was happening to all the work that he had so zealously done.

  * * *

  BEATRICE WAS THE only one of the children who had not married. She had always been close to me since the days when she had enchanted us all with her quaint observations.

  She had changed a great deal from that amusing little girl. She was not like her sisters, being shy and retiring. I knew she dreaded company and she confessed that she never knew what to say to people.

  In a way I was glad of this. I am afraid it was rather selfish of me but I could not bear to face the possibility of Beatrice's leaving me.

  I had gone to Darmstadt to attend the marriage of my granddaughter Victoria of Hesse to her cousin Louis of Battenburg. Leopold's death was so recent and very much in my mind, and I had undertaken the journey in the hope that in the heart of my family I could forget.

  It was a fateful occasion for at the wedding Beatrice met the bridegroom's brother, Henry of Battenburg; and Beatrice and Henry fell in love.

  When Beatrice told me of her wish to marry I was overwhelmed with horror.

  “Impossible!” I said. “You have just been carried away.”

  Beatrice said this was not the case. She and Henry were deeply in love; they had admitted this to each other and above everything else they wanted to marry.

  I said she must forget it. I had suffered enough. Lord Beaconsfield had died; John Brown had died; and so had Leopold. Now I was expected to lose her—the last of my children to be with me!

  Poor Beatrice, she was heartbroken; but being Beatrice she just bowed her head and looked resigned.

  Of course I spent a miserable time. I could not eat; I could not sleep.

  To lose Beatrice! No, I could not face it. That would be the last straw. She would forget. She was not meant for marriage. After all, she was now twenty-seven—old enough for a girl to have put all that behind her. She had come so far without contemplating marriage. Why must she think of it now? It was ridiculous. It was absurd.

  And yet I could not bear to see my poor Baby so sad.

  This would not have happened, I said to myself, but for Leopold's death. Beatrice was so close to her brothers.

  We returned to England, poor Beatrice looked wan and tragic.

  I thought: I cannot allow this to happen. I cannot be like my poor mad grandfather. I thought of the aunts who had always been of great interest to me when I was young. They had all seemed so strange—half mad some of them—and they had all had such sad lives. Their father had tried to keep them close to him, which was a very selfish thing to do.

  I could endure it no more.

  I said, “Beatrice, you have changed so much.”

  She did not deny it.

  I sent for Henry of Battenburg.

  I said to him, “You know what Beatrice means to me. I find it impossible to do without her. I feel so lonely at times. I have lost so many who were dear to me. Suppose you were to make your home in England? Would that be possible? You could marry Beatrice and I could still have her with me.”

  The joy in his face made me so happy.

  I sent for Beatrice.

  I said, “Henry is going to live in England. I shall not lose you after all, dearest child…”

  We embraced; we laughed; it was wonderful to see my dearest child so happy. It was a long time since I had felt so contented.

  It was quite a simple wedding. I called it a “village wedding”; but it was an extremely happy one; and I was delighted to see my child so happy with her Henry and he with her.

  * * *

  POLITICAL STORMS WERE rising at the time of Beatrice's wedding.

  Gladstone's government was in difficulties—at which I was not surprised. I was not the only one who was disgusted by the weakness of his Egyptian policy. The country was ashamed, and the budget proposals were defeated, which meant Gladstone's resignation.

  I offered him an earldom, hoping this would see the back of him as far as I was concerned; but he declined it.

  I was delighted to invite Lord Salisbury, as leader of the Conservative Party, to come and see me, but he was not very eager to form a ministry since he was in the Lords and the task, he thought, should fall to Sir Stafford Northcote who was the leader of the party in the Commons. He really wanted to be in the Foreign Office, but he at last agreed that if he could combine the offices of Foreign Secretary and Prime Minister, and could get, in some measure the support of Gladstone during the few months which remained before Parliament was dissolved, he would do his best to form his ministry.

  I must say that Gladstone was not very accommodating but at length Lord Salisbury agreed.

  I was delighted. I liked him very much. Indeed, I believe I should have liked anyone after Gladstone. Lord Salisbury was the first of my Prime Ministers to be younger than I was. I supposed that was a reminder of how old I was getting.

  That little respite did not last long. At the elections, the Liberals were back in power and I was once more faced with Mr. Gladstone.

  What a trial that man was! He was now intent on bringing Home Rule to Ireland and had sprung his intentions of doing so on me and the country without giving anyone time for thought. I did not believe the country wanted it. As for myself it would mean I should break the oath I had taken at the
coronation to maintain the union of the two kingdoms. I was unconvinced by his arguments.

  I was delighted when quite a number of Liberals decided to vote against Gladstone's Home Rule Bill and it was rejected by the Commons.

  It was a great relief when the government was once more defeated and Lord Salisbury called in.

  I found Lord Salisbury a delight after Gladstone.

  Salisbury was really an old friend. I had known him well as an associate of Lord Beaconsfield—and although it was not the same as having that dear man back again, it did in a measure give me some comfort. He was very knowledgeable in foreign affairs of which, in my opinion, Mr. Gladstone was totally ignorant.

  I wanted him to sit for a portrait and when it was completed I had it placed in my own apartments, which, I told Lord Salisbury, was the highest compliment I could pay anyone.

  I was thankful that the bogey of Home Rule was set aside. Postponement was sometimes so helpful.

  * * *

  A VERY UNSAVORY scandal shook the political world at this time as well as filling the papers and having the whole country agog for more distasteful details.

  I could not help being amused—disgraceful as it was—because it concerned my old enemy Sir Charles Dilke. It was extraordinary that those people who posed in public as being so concerned for the welfare of the people—wanted to abolish the monarchy and so on—were all the time behaving in their private lives in a manner that was far from exemplary.

  It all blew up when a certain Mr. Crawford started divorce proceedings against his wife. Mr. Crawford was a member of Parliament and he had an attractive and somewhat frivolous wife. Dilke was connected with the Crawfords by marriage and was a frequent visitor to their home; and in view of the family relationship this caused no comment.

  Mrs. Crawford had been having a flirtation with a certain Captain Forster and Mr. Crawford accused him of being her lover. The wife, when confronted, told her husband that not Forster but Sir Charles Dilke was the lover.

  Then the unsavory details about that defender of the rights of the underprivileged began to emerge. Apparently he had been Mrs. Crawford's mother's lover; and Mrs. Crawford betrayed revelations about orgies concerning Dilke, herself, and female servants.

  The servants did not come forward, but as Mrs. Crawford had confessed to adultery, the divorce was granted.

  I must confess to a certain satisfaction; and a great relief that Bertie was not involved in this one! Whenever I heard of a case of this nature in a certain circle—and Dilke was a friend of Bertie's—my immediate thoughts were: Please God don't let Bertie be discovered!—which shows the fear that was in my mind; and that was natural after all the anxieties I had suffered on his account.

  Of course Dilke's career was ruined.

  I discussed it with Bertie and as was to be expected, he was on Dilke's side.

  “It is disastrous for him,” he said. “He was a great politician.”

  “He was certainly skilled in living a double life,” I retorted. “He might have been Prime Minister.”

  “Then I am indeed glad this has happened. The idea of my being asked to receive such a man!”

  “Mama, I believe that woman was exaggerating.”

  “The court did not seem to think so.” I looked at him sadly. “I am surprised, Bertie, that after all your father did for you, you do have some strange ideas. This man is a republican. He has clearly spoken against us … and you make him your friend!”

  “Mama, he is clever, witty…He has ideas.”

  “Ideas of destroying us! Very gratifying!”

  That was not the end of the affair. Dilke, of course, could not be included in the government—it was Mr. Gladstone's government at this time because it had happened just before Salisbury came into power.

  Joseph Chamberlain, who was a friend of Dilke and was eager for him to remain in the House, wanted the Queen's Proctor brought in to stop the divorce, pointing out that Dilke had not been proven guilty. He had not gone into the witness box—otherwise I was sure he would have been.

  So the scandal flared up again. It proved to be the worst thing that could happen to Dilke. In the course of the inquiry which followed, it was discovered that the house that Mrs. Crawford had mentioned as the setting for the sexual orgies that had taken place between Dilke, Mrs. Crawford, and two housemaids, was owned by a woman who had been housekeeper to Dilke. That appeared to explain a good deal.

  There was another trial out of which Dilke came badly, for the jury decided that Mrs. Crawford had been telling the truth.

  That was the end of Dilke.

  I could not help experiencing a certain satisfaction. He had called himself a reformer. Let him begin by reforming his own life.

  I thought about him a great deal and I began to feel a twinge of pity for him; and he had posed as such a virtuous man, which made it all the worse for him. I wondered how an ambitious man felt to see his career in ruins.

  I should rejoice. Another of my enemies brought to the dust. I did really feel a little suspicious after that of people who acclaimed so publicly their desire to do good.

  That set me thinking of Mr. Gladstone and his nightly peregrinations. Was that one of the reasons why I disliked him so intensely?

  At least it made him a little human.

  No, I could not—much as I should like to—believe that Mr. Gladstone was such another as Sir Charles Dilke.

  The Dilke affair added to the government's unpopularity over Egypt and the rejection over the budget proposals was certainly a factor in bringing it down.

  In any case I was grateful to have Lord Salisbury as my Prime Minister.

  Jubilee

  THE TIME WAS APPROACHING WHEN I SHOULD HAVE BEEN ON the throne for fifty years. It was a fact that should be brought home to the people, said Lord Salisbury, for they must realize that it was an occasion for rejoicing.

  I felt tired at the prospect, but, of course, he was right. Such anniversaries should not be allowed to pass unnoticed.

  I had very worrying news from Vicky. Her husband, Fritz, was suffering from a terrible throat infection—which it was whispered was cancer. Vicky was very anxious because she lived uneasily at the Prussian Court. Her parents-in-law had been far from kind to her, and Bismarck was her enemy; her son treated her atrociously; and she had to endure reproaches for everything she did; she was condemned because of her English blood.

  I knew all this and when the telegram came, in cypher, I guessed the position was very grave.

  The deciphering of the message revealed that the German doctors wished to perform an operation, but she wanted, first of all, to consult one of our doctors, who was said to be a leading authority on such matters. This was Dr. Morell Mackenzie. Vicky begged me to send out Dr. Mackenzie at once. She was against the operation and she thought that Dr. Mackenzie might persuade the German doctors not to do it.

  I immediately sent for my doctors to ask their opinion of Dr. Mackenzie. They said he was indeed skillful, but he was very eager to amass money, and for that reason should be watched.

  I told this to Vicky.

  The situation was very tense. The Emperor himself was in a low state of health and not expected to live long; if he died that would mean Fritz would be Emperor, and if he died, the mantle would fall on my grandson Wilhelm, who was no friend to his mother.

  That was the state of affairs when the day of celebration arrived.

  On the previous day I had awakened to a sunny morning and had my breakfast out of doors at Frogmore. One could not be private out of doors at the castle.

  Crowds had gathered to see me drive to the station and there were loyal cheers, which were gratifying. And when I alighted at Paddington, I drove through the Park to Buckingham Palace where I received more loyal acclaim.

  How wonderful it was to be surrounded by my dear children! I thought how really remarkable it was that I had been for fifty years on the throne and been sustained through so many trials and sorrows.

  Th
e flowers were magnificent, for the growers had vied with each other to send their products to me. Among them was one bouquet four feet high, and on it were the letters V.R.I. picked out in scarlet blooms.

  We had a dinner party with all the family that evening and what pleased me most was to have them all with me.

  The next day, the twenty-first, the real celebrations began. I had refused to wear a crown and the State robes, for although this was a grand occasion I wanted it to be as simple as possible. The family was most put out. They thought it should be completely ceremonial. Alexandra was sent by the others to try to persuade me to wear my crown, but I told her it was not her affair and I would not be coerced. Lord Halifax was very irritated. He said the people wanted a gilding for their money, which I thought was rather a coarse way of expressing his views; and that interfering Joseph Chamberlain said a sovereign should be grand. I had decided to wear a bonnet. It should be very attractive—one made of white lace and diamonds—but still a bonnet.

  Lord Rosebery said that an Empire should be ruled by scepter and not bonnet. But I was adamant and commanded that all the ladies wear bonnets and long high dresses with mantel.

  I thought as I always did on such occasions: If only Albert could have been there how proud he would have been!

  I left the Palace in an open landau drawn by six cream horses with an escort of Indian cavalry. Next came the men of the family—three sons, five sons-in-law, and nine grandsons.

  Poor Fritz was suffering so much and yet putting on a bold appearance. His voice was almost nonexistent and it really was very brave of him to have come. He drew perhaps the loudest of all cheers for he did look magnificent in white and silver with the German eagle on his helmet. One could trust the Prussians to attract more attention than anyone else.

  Following the family and myself were the processions in which Europe, India, and the colonies were represented. There were four kings from Europe—Saxony, Belgium, the Hellenes, and Denmark—with the Crown Princes of Prussia, Greece, Portugal, Sweden, and Austria.