Lord Melbourne was continuing to write to her in spite of Baron Stockmar’s disapproval; but the letters came less frequently and she was afraid that she often left his unanswered for days. It seemed that she was continually excusing herself on account of pressure of business or the arrival of visitors. How different from those days when she had upbraided him if she did not see him every day.
Now he wrote to her about the proposed income tax and told her that she should exert her royal prerogative and refuse to subscribe to such a scheme.
How different he was from Sir Robert, who was so realistic. Of course she wanted her subjects to know that if there were going to be unpleasant measures she wanted to share in them.
Lord Melbourne had kept her distressingly ignorant of social evils; he did it, she knew, because he hated to distress her, which was very kind, and she knew he was the most feeling of men but Sir Robert and Albert treated her as though she was a serious person, and naturally the Queen must know everything that is going on. She smiled tenderly over Lord Melbourne’s letter, ‘Dear Lord M,’ she said to herself. ‘He has become such an old man lately.’
It seemed an excellent idea to give a charity ball. What could be better, said the Queen, than to enjoy oneself and do good at the same time?
Even Albert – who disliked balls so much – agreed that this was an excellent idea. It was to help trade and as it was a bal costumé, Albert was to go as Edward III and she as Queen Philippa; the members of the Court would be dressed in the costume of that time. The Duchess of Cambridge had arranged to bring a party from her household which would be dressed as royal people and their courts from Spain, Italy and France. It was a grand occasion, thoroughly enjoyed by Victoria; and because of its success another ball was arranged to be given at Covent Garden in aid of the Spitalfields workers.
‘What an excellent – and delightful – way of helping trade,’ cried the Queen.
Albert said that it had been effective on this occasion but a habit should not be made of that kind of entertainment because the magnificent costumes and the gaiety did in a way draw attention to the different lives led by the rich and the poor.
Albert was absolutely right of course; but she did enjoy the dancing.
Albert thought it would be an excellent idea if her birthday was spent at Claremont where they could be quiet and enjoy the country. The country no longer bored her as it used to. There was so much of interest to be learnt and Albert was teaching her to enjoy the scenery and the wildlife. She feared she had been very ignorant of these things in the past.
‘Oh, it was the way you were brought up,’ said Albert, smiling tolerantly. ‘Not your fault in the least. But that will be remedied now. It is such fun to teach you these things and I must say, my love, that you are an apt pupil.’
Poor Lehzen, all the Queen’s faults were laid at her door; all her virtues had been inherited. Victoria was so comforted by the implication that she did not examine it very closely. Even the violent temper, so to be deplored and even now feared lest it should break out, was attributed to a lack of control during her formative years.
At Claremont there was a ball for her birthday. Even Albert realised that she could not be denied that, though in time he was sure she would realise the futility of such a pastime, and they danced in the gallery.
It was such a happy birthday, shadowed a little by the memories of other birthdays when Lehzen had been so happy arranging treats. And Lord Melbourne was not present either. Times changed. She was very kind to Lehzen, but not too familiar lest she thought there was to be a return to the old ways and her hopes should be raised, which would be cruel, for more and more Victoria was seeing how right Albert was and how really there was no place for Lehzen at Buckingham Palace.
She wrote to Lord Melbourne telling him about the birthday.
‘The Queen was grieved,’ she added, ‘that Lord Melbourne could not be there.’
It was a beautiful Sunday in June and the Queen and Albert were returning to Buckingham Palace from the Chapel Royal at St James’s. Crowds lined the Mall to see them pass; the Queen was quite popular now. The people were delighted with the babies and although they would never really like Albert who was still called ‘the German’, most people agreed that the devotion of the royal couple was an example to all. There was no longer slander about the Queen and Lord Melbourne; the Flora Hastings scandal had been forgotten.
Albert, looking very handsome in uniform, sat beside her nodding to the cheers.
‘The people seem very pleased with us today,’ he said.
‘They do,’ replied Victoria, turning slightly to bow to the crowd on her right.
Albert said suddenly: ‘Victoria, did you hear that?’
She turned to him. ‘What was that?’
‘I may have been mistaken,’ went on Albert, ‘but I am sure I saw someone take aim at us and heard a trigger snap.’
‘Albert!’
‘I may have been mistaken. No one seems to have noticed anything.’
She reached for his hand and gripped it firmly. ‘Can you see anything now, Albert?’ she asked.
‘Nothing unusual. It must have been a mistake.’
‘If it was someone planning to take aim he may still be lurking in the crowds.’
‘Behave as though nothing has happened. I shall be watchful.’
They were relieved when they reached the palace.
‘It must have been a mistake,’ said the Prince.
In the afternoon Sir Robert Peel, accompanied by the head of the police, called at the palace.
‘We have some disturbing news,’ said Sir Robert to Victoria and the Prince. ‘A boy named Pearse has told the police that while he was in the crowd in the Mall he saw a man who was standing close to him lift a pistol and point it at the carriage. He did not apparently fire. The boy heard him murmur to himself that he had been a fool not to do so.’
Turning pale Victoria looked at Albert, who said: ‘I must tell you, Sir Robert, I saw this man. I mentioned it to the Queen at the time. I thought that I might have been mistaken.’
‘This is no mistake,’ replied Sir Robert, ‘and I think every precaution will have to be taken, for this man may make the attempt again.’
A long discussion followed. Victoria was very alarmed. It was not the first time she had been shot at. It was a terrifying experience even when one escaped, but at least it was unexpected and all over before one realised that it was happening. The man might decide not to act again for months. They couldn’t stay in all that time.
At length it was agreed that Victoria and Albert should take their drives as usual. The equerries, Colonel Arbuthnot and Colonel Wylde, were called in and told what had happened; they were to ride very close to the carriage and one would watch the right-hand side of the road and the other the left; the drives would be taken at a faster pace than usual.
The Queen spent a sleepless night. She was frightened, she said. ‘For Albert what if you were to be killed.’
Albert said that would be better than that she should, but he trusted Sir Robert’s thorough precautions; the police would be out in force and at the first sign of trouble he would put himself between the Queen and the gun.
‘But that is exactly what I fear, Albert,’ she cried.
It was a very uneasy pair who drove out the next day. The Queen carried a parasol which was lined with chain mail and the carriage was surrounded by guards; the colonels rode very close to the carriage and the pace was brisk.