Crown Imperial: An Alt British Monarchy
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GV: Part Three, Chapter Twenty-Nine: Battle Lines
King George V
Part Three, Chapter Twenty-Nine: Battle Lines
In the second week of December 1844, the King sent an urgent message to his aunt Mary at Hanover House in Dorset. News had come from Decimus Burton that the construction work at Lisson Park had been completed three months ahead of schedule and with the buildings now ready for inspection, George V had in mind a very special task for his intended to focus on before her marriage – the interior design of the three properties within the Inner Circle which for generations would become the private London residence of the British Royal Family. In some ways, this was a conciliatory gesture. When Princess Agnes first visited Buckingham Palace and saw the rooms which had belonged to the late Queen (and which would soon be hers), she found that their décor was not to her taste. But when she asked if she might be allowed to change the colours or select new wallpaper, the answer that came back via Charlie Phipps was a very firm “No”. The King had put aside his grief to allow his new bride to live in the rooms that had once belonged to his darling Sunny but the idea that all traces of the late Queen might be removed from the apartments was simply too much to bear. To that end, George asked Agnes to select an interior designer to work with on the furnishing of Park House, the largest of the three houses in the Inner Circle at Lisson and which had always been intended to serve as a residence for the King and Queen. This commission was incredibly welcome given that Agnes was becoming increasingly restless at Hanover House – though Princess Mary was not too pleased that her protégé now had a legitimate distraction from her studies.Part Three, Chapter Twenty-Nine: Battle Lines
The interior designer engaged for this mammoth task was the French-born Valère Vachon, a 26 year old colleague of Decimus Burton who (according to the architect) “shows promise but lacks the grand challenge he needs to exhibit his many talents” [1]. Vachon was duly invited to Buckingham Palace to meet with Princess Agnes on the understanding that their meetings must remain entirely confidential and that one word to the press would result in a rebuke so strong that he would never be able to work in London again. Agnes did not tell Vachon that she would be living at Lisson as the King’s wife, rather she explained that “as a friend to His Majesty”, she had been tasked with overseeing the furnishing of the property because the King had nobody else to help him. Vachon was not at all taken in and when the King’s engagement was made public two months later, he quipped “But surely not? Why…I am so very surprised!”. He found Agnes to have “mature and elegant taste” and was thrilled when she told him that she wanted to move away from the heavy patterns and dark neogothic style that was so popular in England at this time. Together, they created something which would become known as the English Brighthouse Style, so named because it used light highlighting colours and because it shied away from the New Georgian tendency to over clutter. [2]
Vachon's watercolours depicting the interiors of Park House, 1845.
Park House was built as a private residence for the Sovereign and his wife to replace the Palace lost at Kensington and so the interiors were carefully designed to reflect the building’s purpose as a place to relax and to retreat from official duties as much as possible. To that end, the main drawing room (thereafter known as the Blue Drawing Room) was kept light and spacious with a pastel blue and white colour scheme lifted by hints of silver such as in the chandelier or the tassels on the draperies. Colour was to be used sparingly and we can see this best in the design for the King’s Bedroom at Park House with it’s unprepossessing cream coloured walls broken only by crimson and red curtains and the odd chair or loveseat. Though Park House was designed to be a non-working palace, both the King and Queen would have a study, George V’s decorated in pale green and gold whilst Agnes’ was furnished in pale pink and silver. Yet they could relax in the Music Room or the Queen’s Salon and when they entertained, guests could make use of a Billiard Room, Smoking Room, and a large ballroom designed to accommodate 80 people for supper and dancing.
When it came to selecting portraits and furniture, much of this was retrieved from the collection of the late Prince Regent who had amassed an enormous treasure trove of paintings, vases, sculptures, settees, chairs and desks at Carlton House – indeed, the staircase at Park House was lifted from Carlton piece by piece. The exterior of all three buildings in the Inner Circle had been decorated with friezes and statues of important figures in the Hanover family tree (Princess Mary wept when she saw the relief portrait of her father, George III, over the West Door, for example) but in the state rooms at Park House, Agnes decided to feature only those within the immediate family. There were portraits of Maria Georgievna, the Earl of Armagh and the Duke and Duchess of Anhalt-Dessau but one portrait (which is displayed in the vestibule of the East Door at Park House today) was especially commissioned by Princess Agnes as a Christmas gift for her fiancé in 1844. Painted by Franz Xavier Winterhalter, it was made from sketches the artist had begun when the King commissioned him to paint a family portrait before the death of Queen Louise. Agnes asked Winterhalter to produce a portrait of the King in secret and so the artist could have no further sittings with His Majesty, yet the result was so well-loved by Agnes that it “moved” with the court so that she might see it at Buckingham Palace, Windsor, or later, Balmoral. Notably, it is the first portrait of the King that features his trademark moustache which he had apparently adopted since his coming-of-age portrait painted in 1838.
Winterhalter's 1844 portrait of King George V.
At Christmas 1844, the Royal Family gathered once more at Windsor. In the Crimson Drawing Room, the Cambridges, Princess Mary, the Dowager Duchesses of Clarence and Sussex and the Anhalt-Dessaus made a happy but small band as they exchanged gifts and enjoyed all the usual fun and frolics of the season. For the three royal children, there was a very special gift that year as each received a new puppy. Drawn from the kennels at Windsor, they were once again King Charles Cavalier Spaniels and were named Poppy (the Princess Royal’s), Pippa (Princess Victoria’s) and, with no gesture to a theme at all, Nappo (the Prince of Wales’). One of the set pieces of the Christmas celebrations at Windsor was for the King to make a round of the tenant farms. Though these were not Royal Household employees and paid rent to the Crown Estate, from around 1840 onwards, the farmers could expect to receive a Christmas box containing the equivalent to one month's wage paid to a Palace footman or a groom in the Royal Mews as a gift. Up until now, George V had always made these presentations alone but this time, he asked Agnes to accompany him. For many of the estate workers, this was their first opportunity to meet the future Queen, and by now they had heard from the indoor servants what was on the horizon. Agnes handled the responsibility beautifully, though the King noted that she was “prone to dither a little and spends far too long at things if there are small children in the house”.
From Windsor it was back to Buckingham Palace for a gala held to celebrate the New Year. The entire court assembled in the ballroom where a vast buffet was served comprised of turbot with Sauce Homard (made from pureed lobster meat and lobster coral poached in white wine), Les Filets de Merlans Frits (fried battered whiting with lemon), Les Croquettes á la D’Artois (made from breast of partridge and dressed with an orange sauce), Cailles bardées (roasted quails stuffed with foie gras), Les Couglauffes aux Raisins (better known as a Gugelhupf) served with an apricot sauce and Les Choux á la Créme, au Caramel (cream puffs served with a toffee sauce). In addition to this grand fare were the usual favourites of roast venison, roast beef and boiled ham, a mixture of salads (though not of the green variety we know today) and frozen ices, not so much a sorbet but frozen sugar water flavoured with different syrups. Naturally there was also copious amounts of alcohol served with champagne, wine, liqueurs, brandy and sherry on offer as a full orchestra played favourite tunes of the day such as Then You’ll Remember Me, a popular song from Michael William Balfe’s The Bohemian Girl which had received a Royal Command Performance at Windsor the previous year. As the King’s guests twirled and gavotted, George gave a signal to Charlie Phipps and in the ante-room to the ballroom, all guests were asked politely to move elsewhere as George took Agnes by the hand and once secluded from the crowd by thick red velvet curtains, kissed her on the cheek and then on the hand.
“Are you having a lovely time?”, he asked with a grin, “I saw you dancing with Gladstone…quite the feat”.
“He did not listen to the music and kept telling me about the condition of slum housing in a place called Foxhall”, Agnes giggled, “He stepped on my toes many times but I didn’t like to tell him!” [3]
George laughed.
“You poor thing!”, he smiled. Then that smile faded a little. This was it. The moment he had so carefully rehearsed and which he hoped would be far more romantic than the chance suggestion of marriage he had offered in the gardens at Herrenhausen.
“My darling”, he began, “I know we have made so many arrangements, you really have been swept along in all this but…I do want to ask you…are you quite sure you wish to marry me?”
Agnes giggled again, brushing her hand against George’s cheek.
“Of course I am!”, she cooed, “I knew I wanted to marry you from the first time I saw you”.
“Then…that being the case…”
George reached into his pocked and drew out a small box containing the engagement ring he had commissioned from Garrards. Presenting it to his intended, he kissed her on the cheek and said, “Then we shall be married my love. And we shall be so very, very happy”.
Agnes took the ring from the box and handed it to the King who nervously slipped it onto her finger. Her father’s permission now given, the question now asked and the engagement sealed with the giving of a ring, George V could finally breath a sigh of relief – he was to be married. Officially. But of course, no public announcement was to made just yet, early February being considered far more opportune. This was because the King and his advisors had decided that Agnes should make a public outing of some kind for though undoubtedly the population had noticed her appearing more and more in the newspapers of late, they had not had much of an opportunity to see her at close quarters. After much deliberation (which did not include the Princess), it was decreed that Agnes would make her first official public appearance in England in London, accompanying the King to the rather macabre sounding Asylum for Fatherless Children in Richmond.
Founded in September 1844 by the philanthropist and Congregationalist minister Reverend Andrew Reed, the orphanage offered assistance to any fatherless child under the age of 15 regardless of sex or religious background provided that they were classified as destitute by the Asylum’s inspectorate. This was the first orphanage of it’s kind which took in children in the most desperate circumstances whether they were Protestant, Catholic or Jewish, the workhouses being tied to the Church of England and which were legally entitled until 1846 to refuse admission to those not of the Anglican faith. Reed’s vision was to provide education and vocational training ahead of securing apprenticeships for those who boarded there and the standard of both the accommodation and the food was said to be so good that the children who ended up in Richmond rarely wanted to leave when it came time to be discharged. Reed had managed to convince many in the City of London to agree to offer apprenticeships to his boarders and in the third week of January 1845, the Royal Household joined the scheme with housemaids, bootboys and footmen all sourced from the Asylum for Fatherless Children for decades. One such apprentice was Edwin Brown who entered the orphanage in 1848 at the age of 4 and who later became a Page of the Backstairs to George V in 1876. [4]
Much was made in the press of the King’s visit to Richmond but of course, what made this visit so unusual was the presence of Princess Agnes. The London press dropped not so subtle hints that His Majesty was to be accompanied by “the Princess of Anhalt [sic] who joined the Royal Family for Christmas at Windsor this year with her parents and siblings and who is currently lodging at Marlborough House”. For the times, this was as close as the press would get to publicly confirming a relationship between the King and Princess Agnes and picking up on their intimations, crowds quickly made their way to Richmond forming vast groups along the roadside and outside the Asylum itself. When the royal party arrived, it was noted that “the Princess, dressed in a pale green gown with lace sleeves, wrapped in a white fur against the chill, waved to the crowds from the carriage before His Majesty helped her to alight. The pair then approached those waiting patiently to greet them and exchanged words with the public. Mrs Sinclair, 83, of Chester Row, was one of those fortunate enough to meet the Dessau Princess and said of this encounter; ‘She was very beautiful and very kind to me and told me she was very interested in meeting me'”.
The Asylum for Fatherless Children at Richmond.
After touring the Asylum itself (“the Princess distributed wooden soldiers and dollies to the poor children whilst His Majesty met with the Board”), the King and Princess Agnes returned to the city where they attended a performance of Edward Stirling’s Martin Chuzzlewit, an adaptation of the Dickens novel, which was in the middle of a highly successful run at the Lyceum in the Strand. Once again, crowds formed outside the theatre (having been tipped off by the newspapers that there would be something to see) and the King noted in his journal that “Agnes was well-received with the people cheering her and she took it all well in her stride, neither overly flattered by the attention nor dismissive of it”. It must have come as some relief to George for he was still reeling from the contents of that letter from his cousin Victoria. Whilst he had never believed her assertion that the British people would never accept Agnes as his wife, he was particularly nervous that London might not welcome Agnes particularly enthusiastically. He was never happier to be wrong and with the success of her “entry into the city” complete, the engagement between King George V and Princess Agnes of Anhalt-Dessau was finally made public on the 17th of February 1845, just two days before the State Opening of Parliament.
Though London was in celebratory mood, one man could not enjoy the festivities with any real enthusiasm. The Prime Minister had been fortunate to take up his office just before the parliamentary recess and so, for almost three months, he had been able to avoid the glaringly obvious – that his government may not survive the week if a confidence motion went against it. This was not unthinkable given that the Tories and the Unionists consistently voted together and to avoid a humiliating defeat, Lord Melbury had been forced to water down the more controversial commitments he wanted to make. It must be noted that Sir James Graham, now Leader of His Majesty’s Opposition, was not out for revenge. Indeed, he sent a rather gentlemanly letter to the Prime Minister reassuring him every consideration would be given to the Whig proposals on a bill-by-bill basis and that the Tories would vote on their merits alone, not on partisanship. But the problem was that regardless of what happened in the Commons, the Tories had stacked the Lords with their own, so much so that the King had refused to create any more peers during the last administration. The ‘Cat and Mouse’ game of each new Prime Minister demanding more peers than the last to tip the upper chamber in their favour had gone on since Lord Grey’s tenure but if it continued, the Lords would quickly outnumber the Commons by an extraordinary number and become a permanent barrier to any administration of a different party to the majority.
Lord Melbury was well aware that he could not ask the King to create a new raft of Whig peers to rebalance the Lords in the government’s favour. Though many were unhappy about their close friendship, it did mean that George V had made his position on Graham’s “peer spree” abundantly plain. Indeed, he deeply regretted that he had given in and when Melbury complained about the prospect of the Whigs being unable to govern because the Lords would reject every bill that passed the Commons, the King said (half in jest), “Well you’ve got me to blame for that”. The Whigs had promised to “consider matters of the constitution” during the 1844 general election campaign but at this time, every party offered that without any real detail on how, why or when they would do so. It generally covered everything from the calls from the Chartists to demands from the Church, the judiciary and even the Crown but it rarely bore any actual fruit. What made this pledge somewhat different however was that Lord John Russell was not only entirely serious that constitutional reform must be a priority but he also had a stack of proposals ready to submit to Cabinet. Melbury shared much of Russell’s ambition but he was far more wary of pursuing any constitutional reform when the stability of the administration seemed precarious.
Russell often quoted a favourite Whig axiom that “political parties are like snails for with them it is the tail that moves the head” [5]. Certainly he had a solid caucus of support in the Russell Group with whom he first shared his vision of a reformed House of Lords. In his view, the issue was twofold; 1) that the Lords had grown rapidly in size over the last decade and 2) that the Tory majority in the Lords was secure for generations to come because when one Earl died, his eldest son succeeded him and “in doing so, props up the Tory banner to it’s present height for yet another lifetime”. Russell had a solution for both of these problems, aiming to curtail the Lords from becoming any bigger whilst also rebalancing it gradually so as to avoid charges that the Whigs were following the Tory lead in flooding the upper house with their own. These proposals were put privately to Lord Melbury at Downing Street before the Speech from the Throne in February 1845 with a view to introducing a bill dubbed “the Lords Act”. [6]
The main priority of the Lords Act was to halt the further creation of an extraordinary number of peers. To do so, even if it benefitted the Whigs, would (Russell insisted) “corrupt the issue and make such reforms impossible”. Lord John therefore proposed that the government should either impose a limit on how many peers should sit at one time or that the Lords be limited in number so that it may never outnumber the Commons – in effect, this would impose a cap of around 650 seats. In 1845, this left a substantial number of seats in the Lords to be filled but this could not be abused as it had in the past for now Russell turned his attention to the composition of the Lords itself. Firstly, he wished to confront the controversial issue of the Lords Spiritual which would limit the number of bishops from the Church of England in the Lords to just 26 [7]. Secondly, he wished to impose restrictions on how many peers could be created at one time. Discounting the Royal Dukes, Russell believed that no more than 8 hereditary peers should be created each year and that two of these creations should be made from candidates sponsored by the Opposition parties [8]. But there would be other peerages up for grabs, namely, life peerages. [9]
The Crown had the authority (as Fount of Honour) to create two kinds of peerages; the hereditary, which passed to legitimate male heirs and carried with it a right to sit in the House of Lords and the life peerage, which the incumbent only held for his lifetime, which he did not pass on to his legitimate male heirs and which brought with it no right to a place on the red benches of the upper house. Life peerages were nothing new by 1845, indeed, dozens had been created over the years (including 18 women, mostly royal mistresses, who were given a reward for their affections by the monarch of the day). Precedent suggested that the Crown could call upon life peers to take a seat in parliament if the Sovereign so wished but by convention, life peers made no attempt to claim that right and contented themselves to enjoy the social privileges of their title and rank instead. What Russell proposed was for life peers to be given the same legislative rights as hereditary ones. Only four would be created each year but in principle it meant that (in the future) a Tory could not automatically be replaced by another Tory and a Whig could not be replaced automatically by another Whig. An initial intake of 28 life peers was intended to redress the balance of the Lords in 1845 but thereafter, only two dozen could be created over the lifetime of one parliament.
When the King was first introduced to these proposals he supposedly remarked that it was “a very fine thing”. Lord Melbury explained that he agreed with Russell on most of his reforms but that he wished to see the new intake of 28 life peers drawn from the ranks of senior judges, civil servants, senior officers of the Armed Forces or prominent contributors to the arts, which again met with royal approval but would require supplementary legislation. However, both Melbury and the King seemed to recognise something which Russell had (perhaps knowingly) entirely overlooked in his enthusiasm. The Lords would be required to approve of the reforms before they could receive Royal Assent and become law. George V told Melbury that, in his opinion, “This would be rather like asking the Christmas goose to stuff himself and hop up on the spit – which any sensible old bird would refuse to do”. Nonetheless, Russell insisted that regardless of the bill’s chances, the Whigs should adopt the policy and make it public at the State Opening of Parliament. “If nothing else it demonstrates to the population beyond Westminster that we intend to be a government of do-ers and not just thinkers”. But Melbury resisted. Whilst privately he agreed with almost every word of the bill, he could not unveil such a radical programme of reform which would almost certainly cause the Tories and the Unionists to band together and bring down the government.
However, Russell and his supporters were of the opinion that the Whigs should declare their intention to be a radical, reforming government regardless of what may happen. For as much as the Tories and the Unionists may bring down the government, so too could a coalition of Whigs, Repeal MPs, radicals and independents bring down a successive Tory administration forcing the country back to the polls. In such an event, Russell believed the Whigs had far more to gain by going into a second campaign on a message that they dearly wanted to address the problems the United Kingdom faced but that the Tories, bitter at being ousted from office, prevented it. Whilst dining with his nephew, the Earl of Shelburne, Melbury raised the spectre of Lord Cottenham. His tenure as Prime Minister had been disastrous because he would not take a firm position and shied away from the big decisions of the day. His caution ended his political career and Melbury certainly did not want to follow in his footsteps. To that end, Melbury agreed to think on Russell’s proposals again and to give an answer on Lords Reform one way or the other three days before the State Opening of Parliament. Russell and his supporters held their fire.
Marlborough House today.
Meanwhile at Marlborough House, a flurry of activity was underway as Princess Agnes settled into her temporary home ahead of her wedding in July. She was now officially the King’s intended and with that came much public interest but it also meant that her time was no longer her own. Every morning at 6am, Charlotte Arbuthnot and Bessie Knollys entered Agnes’ bedroom in order to dress her and arrange her hair. At 7am, the Chaplain from the Chapel Royal at St James’ Palace arrived to lead 15 minutes of morning prayer. Only then was Agnes allowed to eat breakfast, not on a tray in her room as was a married woman’s privilege but in the dining room at Marlborough House – Princess Mary took her breakfast in bed, of course. Thereafter, around 9.30am, Agnes met with Colonel Arbuthnot (her new Private Secretary) who outlined her itinerary for the day which at this time was mostly taken up with dress fittings or meetings with the senior Royal Household staff she would see daily but as yet did not know. Then from 10am to 12pm, she studied everything from British history to English table manners, court etiquette to the order of precedence, before she was driven the short distance to Buckingham Palace to take luncheon with the King. After returning to Marlborough House at around 1.30pm, she was to change for calling hours which coincided with tea at 4pm. Two hours later and she changed again, this time for dinner which she ate at Marlborough House, St James’, Cambridge House or Buckingham Palace depending on which member of the Royal Family wanted the pleasure of her company. At 10.30pm, she was undressed and put to bed. And so this routine would continue, without exception, until the day she married.
Naturally some of this was second nature. She was well used to changing her clothes many times a day for example, as was customary for women of her class at the time. But other things, such as lengthy meetings with the Bishop of London or a lesson on how menus should be arranged at Buckingham Palace, proved a little more difficult to enjoy for whilst they were a novelty at first, they quickly became rather dull to a Princess who had far more energy than the vast majority of stuffy, aged courtiers who inhabited the Palace. More often than not, Agnes might “go missing” during the hours when she might be studying only to turn up in the gardens playing hopscotch or leaping over little hurdles she had made from wooden orange boxes. Princess Mary found the whole experience of “training” her future niece-in-law far too much to bear and so it was with great relief that word came from Dover that a familiar face would be returning to London in the next few days – the newly ennobled Baroness Wiedl. Mary informed the King that she would leave Agnes in Rosalinde’s capable hands for a time whilst she headed back to Dorset for a well-deserved rest at her seaside townhouse – “For Rosa is far younger than I and so very good at games”.
But this did not please Princess Agnes. Whilst Baroness Wiedl had been nothing but generous and welcoming to her (arguably the King might never have proposed had Rosalinde not encouraged his advances towards Agnes), the Princess’ role had changed since their last meeting - and so had her opinion of the Baroness. Agnes was now the King’s fiancée and in a few months’ time, she would become his Queen. Suddenly she seemed less comfortable with the idea of Rosalinde joining her household as an Extra Lady of the Bedchamber, protesting that she didn’t know the Baroness very well and that she did not want to feel she was being kept an eye on by a close friend of the King who might report back to him on everything Agnes did. This was not why the King wished Rosalinde to serve Agnes in the slightest but though both Mrs Arbuthnot and Mrs Knollys tried to explain that the Baroness had been at court for a long time and would be a great help to Agnes, “the Princess shall not be moved and sulked for a good hour or more at the suggestion”. We do not have to look far for the reason why.
The Duke and Duchess of Anhalt-Dessau returned home shortly after their daughter’s engagement was made official and would not see her again until they came back to England for the wedding in July 1845. The Duchess’ parting gift to her daughter was to poison her mind with suspicion and gossip. In a letter to her mother written around this time, Agnes says; “The King’s friend is return to us soon and now I am filled with dread for I cannot bring myself to be in her company. O! Darling Mama, I wish you had not given me these thoughts in your leaving for now I am consumed by them, and they are horrid thoughts, beastly thoughts I should never have had were it not for you saying the things you did. I know you did all for me but it has given me a burden I cannot share with anybody and so I must bear it alone and with great anxiety at a time when I should only know happiness. Please dearest Mama, will you return to me soon and tell me all you said was not true?”.
Across the Channel in Biarritz, Baroness Wiedl was writing a letter of her own to the King; “You have arranged everything so beautifully for my return and though I shall be quite exhausted from my journey, I insist you allow me to repay you in inviting you to dine with me at Bloomsbury Square as soon as I am back in dear old England. Please do accept for it has been too long since we have been together”.
Upon receiving this note, George smiled and summoned Phipps to his study.
“Your Majesty?”
“Ah yes Charlie", the King said cheerfully, “Rosa will be back with us on the 3rd of next month, keep that evening free for me, there’s a good chap”.
Charlie cleared his throat awkwardly.
“The 3rd, Sir? I’m afraid you are engaged to accompany Princess Agnes to the theatre that evening. At the invitation of Lord and Lady Maynard…”
“Oh dash it all”, George sniffed, “I had forgotten that. Oh well, can’t be helped. Ask the Cambridges to accompany the Princess for me would you? Aunt Augusta was only saying the other day how long it’s been since she saw a good show...is it a good show?”
Charlie nodded eagerly, “The Lady of Lyons, Your Majesty. A revival I’m afraid. But Mrs Richardson is reprising her Pauline, I believe”.
The King chuckled, “Well she can reprise it for my aunt. I have seen The Lady of Lyons and I was none too taken with her. Send my apologies to Marlborough House, the tickets to Cambridge House and arrange for my carriage to take me to Bloomsbury Square at say…7.30 on the evening of the 3rd”.
Phipps bowed and left the room. A nagging feeling in his stomach told him that this wasn’t the last he had heard of The Lady of Lyons…or the Lady of Bloomsbury Square.
Notes
[1] Vachon has been invented for our purposes.
[2] In much the same way as Victoria and Albert set trends in the OTL (and as I had Louise set fashion trends ITTL), Agnes leaves her mark on England too.
[3] Vauxhall.
[4] Reedham Orphanage (as it became known) existed as described in the OTL but the scheme with the Palace, and Edwin Brown, did not.
[5] As Marx tells us…
[6] This is based on the efforts Russell made to reform the Lords during his first and second tenure as Prime Minister (1846 – 1852 and 1865 – 1866) and whilst they seem quite modern, this perhaps serves to show just how old the debate on Lords reform actually is whilst the basic principles have remained largely the same. Here there is an added urgency given the scenario I’ve created with successive governments packing the Lords benches and with the Chartist movement gaining traction once more, we’ll soon get into some constitutional tinkering to give us quite a different political landscape.
[7] An idea explored, debated, passed in the Commons but rejected by the Lords in 1847.
[8] Again, an idea he put forward in his first term as PM but which was never introduced when his reforms to the Lords Spiritual were rejected.
[9] This idea wasn’t explored until Russell’s second term in the OTL but he had written of it long before then and I feel the events of TTL allow for it to be considered a little earlier.
All references to theatre shows are based on real performances given in 1845 in the OTL and the buffet menu was inspired by that fabulous resource, https://www.royal-menus.com
It's also worth saying that I've been learning how to use an AI Image Generator in recent days which supplied both the interiors of Park House and the Winterhalter of George V. I'm hoping to mix these sorts of images with existing ones from the time to illustrate the timeline in future. As ever, many thanks for reading!
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Great chapter. Glad to see George and Agnes fall deeper in love. However, I hope that Agnes doesn’t become jealous of Rosalind’s relationship with George. I like that there is a limit on how many lordships can be created.
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Thankyou so much! I really wanted to contrast the maturity that Louise had with Agnes' naiveite and George's relationship with Rosa offers the perfect tool for that. We, the reader, know that there was nothing more to George's friendship with the Baroness but at that time, in that world, I think a young girl like Agnes would only too willingly believe the gossip she's heard from her mother.
The Lords is proving a fascinating thing to research, we'll have to see just how much the Whigs can do but it's interesting to me that so many of Russell's ideas are still being spoken about today, yet have never been put into practise.
Excellent chapter. I will say that I did enjoy the pictures of the interior rooms. Agnes and George are continuing to get along and it is nice to see the public accept her. I am interested in seeing how Agnes might continue to establish her role in the public eye as she becomes queen.
Absolutely, especially as the Duchess of Anhalt-Dessau may well continue to drip poison into her daughter's ear.
Thankyou! I'm really glad you liked the interior pictures, they came out really well and helped me to envisage what Park House might look like.
And certainly a big task for Agnes ahead but one I think she will meet even if things might have a shaky start.
GV: Part Three, Chapter Thirty: Otherwise Engaged
King George V
Part Three, Chapter Thirty: Otherwise Engaged
When news of King George V’s engagement to Princess Agnes of Anhalt-Dessau was finally confirmed, the intricate network of European royalty responded as one might expect. Those closest to the couple were (mostly) delighted and waited patiently for their invitation to the wedding whilst those on the outskirts of the family acknowledged the development but were not overly hopeful for their chances of claiming a seat at Westminster Abbey. But of course, a simple note of congratulation was not enough for most and from February 1845 onwards, a generous stream of gifts arrived from across the globe as tokens of affection for the couple which it fell to Princess Agnes to catalogue, arrange and acknowledge in hundreds of hand written thankyou notes. These gifts ranged from the sublime to the slightly ridiculous – though naturally everyone who sent something did so with the very best of intentions. From Siam, King Nangklao (Rama III) sent a highly prized white elephant from the Royal Elephant Stables in Bangkok. She was named Junta (meaning star) and was shipped to England whereupon she found a home at London Zoo. The proximity of the Zoo to Lisson Park gave the children of the Royal Family ample opportunity to visit “Papa’s Elephant” which they did for the next 28 years until Junta died in 1873.Part Three, Chapter Thirty: Otherwise Engaged
From the King of Greece (Otho) there were traditional Greek costumes, though these were never worn and were instead displayed at the Greek Embassy in Upper Brook Street, Mayfair. From the Dutch King (Willem II, who was far more generous than his daughter-in-law Victoria who was still estranged from her cousin George after sending a rather nasty missive doubting Agnes’ suitability as a bride) came a gift of silver loving cup whilst the King of Denmark (Christian VIII, who for reasons which remain unclear today) sent a canoe. The Emperor of Austria (Ferdinand I) did not send a gift but his nephew, the Archduke Franz Joseph, dispatched a clock. The King and Queen of France (Louis Philippe and Maria Amalia) sent a portrait of themselves, the King of Prussia (Frederick William IV) sent two Meissen vases whilst the Queen of Portugal (Maria II) sent 24 orange saplings. The most generous gift came from the Tsar of Russia (Nicholas I), a gift which George V himself noted was “far too extravagant and really quite gauche”. In 1839, the House of Bolin had become Jewellers to the Imperial Court in St Petersburg and were now providing the Empress and Grand Duchesses of Russia with magnificent jewels which are still widely regarded today as the very best example of their type. The Tsar tasked Bolin with creating a beautiful tiara for the future Queen consort of the United Kingdom, known to history as the Bolin Diadem.
The Bolin Diadem.
The Bolin Diadem was personally designed by Carl Bolin who produced three sketches for the Tsar to choose from. These sketches provide the only surviving image of the Bolin Diadem which was to be fashioned from silver and gold and set with diamond brilliants. But the piece was extraordinary given that it could be worn in four ways. The diadem itself could be “dismantled” by the turn of a silver key in the base which allowed the top half to be removed leaving a smaller tiara (which could also be worn as a necklace) behind. This had a thinner band of silver and diamonds with a diamond flower above. But the flower itself could also be removed and could be worn as a pendant on a brooch formed from the top of the diadem. Additionally, the diadem was accompanied by a floral aigrette which could be worn at the back of the hair. We know that Queen Agnes only wore the diadem in its original setting once – it was far too heavy and caused her an excruciating headache – but she adored the Bolin in the “junior” setting with its small tiara and aigrette. This possibly explains why diadem was very rarely seen in it’s “senior” setting yet it survived in tact until at least the late 1860s when it made it’s way to Denmark. From there, it simply disappeared. The accepted account of the diadem’s fate is that it was stolen in 1912 but others believe it was broken up and the stones used to create a new piece as the original design was so impractical.
Nonetheless, Queen Agnes was deeply appreciative of the Tsar’s kindness and her first thankyou note was therefore to him, thanking him for his “most generous gift which really is so very beautiful that I confess I wept tears upon opening the box!”. But another gift would not be quite so well received and Agnes’ naïve response to it caused a distinctly unpleasant atmosphere at Buckingham Palace. Since his marriage in 1842, the mere mention of Prince George of Cambridge (now Hanover) had been verboten at the English court and as such, Princess Mary failed to inform her protégé that Agnes should not raise the subject of their debauchee son and heir with the Cambridges – or with the King. Agnes undoubtedly knew who the Earl of Tipperary was but perhaps this extended only to how he was related to her future husband. So when George Hanover sent a rather lovely Japanese lacquer box to his cousin as an engagement gift (surely a very well-intentioned peace offering), Agnes proudly sent it to Buckingham Palace with instructions that it should be placed on the King’s desk in his study as a cigarette box. The King returned from a luncheon at the Draper’s Hall to find this new addition and naturally asked where it had come from. When the source was revealed, George flew into a terrible tantrum and ordered it to be sent back to Germany. He dispatched a hasty note to Marlborough House to inform his fiancée that she had “acted in very poor judgement which does not please me” and the poor girl had to sheepishly ask Princess Mary what she had done that was so awful it warranted two days of royal sulking.
Fortunately this squabble was not prolonged but it appeared another, far more serious quarrel, was now brewing, one which would erupt on the 4th of March 1845. On the previous day, the King had agreed to accompany Princess Agnes to the theatre at the invitation of the Maynards to see a revival of The Lady of Lyons but then His Majesty changed his plans when Baroness Wiedl wrote to him announcing that she would soon be back in England and hoped he might join her in Bloomsbury Square for a private supper on the same evening he was due to take his fiancé to the Lyceum. The King accepted and asked Phipps to see that the Cambridges accompanied Princess Agnes to the theatre instead, sending his apologies to the Maynards. But he failed to explain his decision to Princess Agnes. Instead, Phipps was sent to Marlborough House to inform Agnes of the new arrangements. She took it well, evening chuckling when Phipps awkwardly announced that the King was “otherwise engaged” and could not spend the evening with Agnes as intended. Agnes laughed and replied, “Oh really Mr Phipps, I thought His Majesty was engaged to me!”
Phipps did not reveal that the King was to spend the evening with Baroness Wiedl and on the 3rd of March, as scheduled, Princess Agnes joined the Maynards and the Cambridges at the theatre whilst George V headed off to Bloomsbury to be reunited with his friend. The following day, Princess Mary arrived at Marlborough House to bid Agnes farewell – she was heading to Weymouth for a rest – before Baroness Wiedl began her duties as an Extra Lady of the Bedchamber (though at this time she did not have this title or appointment formally as the Queen’s Household had not yet been officially constituted). It was Princess Mary who accidentally put the cat among the pigeons. When she explained that Rosalinde would be arriving in a few day's time to begin her duties, Agnes looked downcast. She did not relish the prospect, her mother having dripped poison in her ear that there was something improper about the relationship between the King and his friend, the Baroness. Agnes had been unable to overcome this and was now deeply suspicious, no doubt made worse by the fact that she could not discuss the matter openly with any of her new attendants. Instead of raising the matter with Princess Mary, Agnes tried another tactic. When Mary told Agnes that Rosalinde would soon arrive at Marlborough House, Agnes replied, “Oh? But she has not yet returned from France, I believe?”.
“Oh really child”, Princess Mary said haughtily, “You must learn to keep track of these things! Rosa returned to us last evening”.
Agnes sniffed.
“Have you a cold my dear?”, Mary queried, accusingly, “Because that would never do. I shall ask Knollys to fetch a medicament. Now when Rosa comes, I want you to be on your best behaviour, your very best, Georgie tells me she is quite exhausted after a dreadful crossing and-“
“Georgie said that? How did he know?”
Without hesitation, Mary proudly declared, “Because he dined with her yesterday my dear. Now when Rosa comes-“
“But I thought-“, Agnes interrupted. Mary sighed in frustration.
“My dear, I have few years left to me”, she chided, “But in the time God yet grants to me, I hope to be able to be heard. Now…when Rosa comes…”
But Agnes did not hear a word Princess Mary said. Her stomach felt heavy and her heartbeat pounded in her ears. Why had Georgie lied to her? And why did he go to see that woman when he had promised to accompany Agnes to the theatre? Oh God. This was exactly what Mama had meant…her anxiety gripped her and it must have been noticeable.
“Oh my dear”, Mary cooed, “You really do look quite pale. You are ill. I shall ring for Knollys; you really should be put to bed at once”.
Agnes dutifully allowed herself to be taken to her room. She said nothing until the ladies had left her. Then she burst into sobs.
Meanwhile, the King had been invited to a luncheon at the Royal Military Academy in Woolwich, South East London, where a guard of honour from 130 cadets formed to welcome His Majesty. Woolwich had been in use as a military training college since 1806 and whilst enrolled, cadets were instructed in mathematics, mapping, land-surveillance, fortification and engineering as well as in the use of muskets, sword-exercises and fieldpieces. George arrived in military uniform, passing up and down the ranks of cadets before being led to the dining room where the top brass of the Academy raised a toast to His Majesty before a sumptuous six course meal was served. But the King was not impressed. Throughout the luncheon, he remained surly and quiet, gently seething until he left with a few perfunctory handshakes which left the recipients somewhat puzzled. It was only when he returned to Buckingham Palace that the reason for his ire became clear.
“If these cadets are the future of the British Army then we might all sleep with a musket under our bed for never have I seen such lack-lustre young men, poorly attired, weak in discipline and without care for their studies”, the King wrote, “I was appalled Sir, and most aggrieved, by the entire atmosphere of the Academy which reminds me of all the worst traits of the English public school, indeed I would go further, that Woolwich has become little more than Eton with drill, a most dissatisfactory establishment which I consider to be of detriment both to the British Army as the greatest fighting force in the world today and to those young men who have placed their trust in the institution to make of them the very same. That such men should give their lives so bravely for their country is a sacrifice made poorer by the outrageous inefficiency and wastefulness of the Academy which must be reviewed and corrected without delay or hesitation”. This angry assessment of the Woolwich Academy was hand delivered within the hour to Henry Grey (soon to be the 3rd Earl Grey upon the death of his father, the former Prime Minister, Charles Grey), then Secretary of State for War and the Colonies. [1]
These observations would not have been out of place in 1845, indeed, the Academy was described by Edward Mogg in 1844 as “having the ethos of a public school”, the result of changes which saw cadets removed from the muster roll and their parents’ charged fees for their attendance. This restricted the student body to the children of the wealthy or well-established military families who might then purchase a commission for their offspring once they graduated. Social precedence had been allowed to dominate the decisions regarding promotion at Woolwich and this meant that cadets there often had a totally different preparation and training experience than their counterparts at Sandhurst or Great Marlow. For someone with a keen interest in the military, George V was shocked by his visit to Woolwich and it seemed to spark in him not only a desire but a strong determination to force his government to undertake a serious review of the state of the British Army and to reform that which, in his view, was detrimental to it overall. Lord Grey agreed with the King’s assessment of Woolwich and promised to look into the matter, visiting the Academy personally to experience what the King had noted first hand.
The Royal Military Academy, Woolwich
Whilst George V still exhibited signs of a hot temper, by now this mellowed enough to prompt him to action rather than rage. In this case, he blew off steam and listed his objections to Lord Grey but then he set about finding a way he could contribute personally to seeking some kind of correction. In later years, George often said, “Where one finds a problem, one must also find a resolution” and certainly in 1845 he was driven to do just that, spending every spare moment he had studying anything he thought might be of use among the pages of his extensive library. Quite correctly, George V expressed his concerns in a private and confidential letter to Lord Grey at the War Office and asked if he had any objection to the King submitting proposals for reforms to him in the future. In this, we see how George had learned from past experience. Rather than demand a role to play in what was ostensibly a matter outside of the purview of the Crown (as he had perhaps been guilty of when he tried his hand at diplomacy), this time the King did his utmost to avoid any clash with his ministers. But as proper as his conduct was, he did put pressure on Lord Grey to act swiftly – possibly because he, like so many others at that time, had concerns that the Whigs may not last much longer in government.
The King attended the State Opening of Parliament in the second week of February 1845, the ceremony familiar but the composition of those in the Commons a relatively unusual body. Everyone present knew that the Whig government could be brought down at any moment and most predicted that the Melbury ministry wouldn’t last the month. Ahead of the King’s speech, Melbury finally committed himself to endorsing Lord Russell’s proposed reforms for the House of Lords but this was referenced in the address the King gave as “Efforts shall be made to introduce further constitutional reforms”. In a private agreement, Melbury and Lord Russell compromised that the so-called Lords Act would not be brought forward immediately and that the detail of the reform should be kept within Cabinet for the time being. But at their post-address clash in the Commons, Lord Russell responded furiously to claims by Sir James Graham that the Whigs were “making ham-fisted efforts to tear up the constitution to suit their own purposes”. Russell snapped back that if one wanted to see an example of such behaviour, they need look no further than “the mass production of peers we saw by the previous government at the Right Honourable Gentleman’s behest”. This proved electric in the Commons debate as Graham assured all those present that Russell’s words were “a clear indication that the government intends to assault the constitutional role played by those in the Other Place”.
Lord Melbury was furious that Russell had allowed his pride to get the better of him but calmed in his attitude when there were positive signs from other opposition parties (such as the Repeal Association, Chartists and Radicals) that they welcomed Lords Reform and expected the bill to be brought forward far sooner than was being suggested. After days of debate, senior Whigs paced the division lobbies nervously. The government had a majority of 24, diminished to 22 because one of their number was unwell and another had failed to surface from his country estate after the weekend. The Tories and the Unionists were bound to vote together to defeat the bill – but the other opposition parties may go either way. If the government lost the division, it would be taken as a vote of no confidence in the Whigs. At the very last, the result was declared; the Whigs had won the day by 49 votes, a clear win for the day but the Prime Minister urged caution. This might not be repeated when individual bills were brought forward. Melbury returned to Downing Street, still a little sore at Russell’s behaviour, but otherwise relieved.
As Melbury hovered in corridors waiting to hear his fate that evening, an almighty row was taking place in the King’s Private Apartments at Buckingham Palace. Princess Agnes, consumed with jealousy and suspicion, did the unthinkable. She got out of her sick bed at Marlborough House, dressed herself, took herself the short distance to the Palace on foot and made her way to the King’s Drawing Room where he was fully engrossed in his military studies.
“What the devil…”, he said in surprise as Agnes appeared before him, without being announced by an astonished Phipps in the ante-room.
“Georgie, I must speak with you”, Agnes said, her voice a little tremulous with emotion.
“Nessa!”, the King cried, standing to his feet and walking over to comfort his intended, “Aunt Mary told me you had a cold, my darling you look absolutely frightful, come here by the fire and get warm, I…I hope you didn’t come here on foot…”
“I did and I had to”, Agnes said sourly, “Because I am not happy Georgie, I am not happy at all”.
The King chuckled.
“Well we can’t have that, can we? Now you sit there and you tell me all about it…”
Agnes drew a deep breath.
“We were supposed to go to the theatre together Georgie, you and I, with the Maynards”.
“Yes I know, that was a bother wasn’t it? But Aunt Augusta told me you enjoyed the play, she said you…”
“She shouldn’t have had to tell you Georgie because you should have been there to enjoy it with me. And instead…”, she faltered but then regained her courage, “Instead you were dining with another woman”
“Another woman?”, George guffawed, “What on earth do you mean by that? Oh! My supper with Rosa? Oh darling, that really is very silly, Rosa has been away for a very long time and I-“
“You were dishonest Georgie”, Agnes continued, “You were dishonest and unkind and now I am left wretched and you…you do not even care!”
George was no longer smiling. He dropped Agnes’ hands and walked over to the window for a moment, the room filled with a dangerous silence. Then he rounded.
“Now you listen to me Nessa and you listen very carefully for I do not intend to have this conversation with you ever again”, he hissed, “Rosa is one of my oldest and dearest friends, she has been a loyal and much loved companion in this house before you were a thought in my mind. If I wish to dine with her, I shall do so, without reproach, from you or from anybody else, do I make myself clear?”
“No!”, Agnes shouted, throwing herself up from the chair and launching toward the King, “No you do not because where she is concerned, things are far from clear. Do you know what they say about you and that woman? Because I do. Mama told me. They say you are in love with her”.
The King walked over to his desk and pushed the button that rang a bell in the outer room. Phipps appeared nervously at the door.
“Charlie, escort the Princess back to Marlborough House”, George said coldly, “She is unwell”.
“You do not have the right to order me about!”, Agnes screamed.
“I have every right, I am the King!”, George bellowed.
“I shan’t go until I have learned the truth of this!”, Agnes hollered.
“The truth is there but you are too silly to see it!”, George raged back.
Agnes began to sob.
“Now…you will go with Charlie and you will ask your ladies to give you whatever remedy it takes to bring you out of this childish, petty nonsense. And until such a time as you are cured of this ridiculous behaviour, you shall remain at Marlborough House until I call for you. Phipps…take the Princess home”. [2]
Phipps entered the room and gently led Agnes away. He had been correct to predict that the return of Baroness Wiedl may ruffle feathers but he could never have foreseen the clash he had just witnessed. An ominous silence pervaded for two days, neither side willing to give grounds. But then came an olive branch. Word was sent to Marlborough House that the King wished Princess Agnes to be present at a dinner party and now somewhat calmer, though nowhere near reassured, the Princess dressed in her best and was taken by carriage to the Palace where she was seated between Viscount Maynard and the Foreign Secretary, Lord Morpeth. The King welcomed Agnes home with a kiss and no mention was made of their previous disagreement but those present were quickly acquainted with the awkwardness of this reunion. As the guests tucked into the game course (a partridge roasted in the centre of a Savoy cabbage), the conversation turned to news from the Bay of Islands in New Zealand which had just appeared in the evening newspapers.
The British Ensign is removed by Hōne Heke.
Since the adoption of the Treaty of Waitangi in 1840, there had been growing unrest among the Māori tribes over the exact meaning of the document signed. The British were insistent that the treaty ceded sovereignty to the Crown allowing for the foundation of the Colony of New Zealand in 1841. But the Māori upheld that they had not understood the treaty when it was put before them and they had no intention whatsoever of giving the British Crown authority over their territory. In July 1844, a flagstaff erected on Maiki Hill at the north end of Kororāreka by the first British resident, James Busby, was cut down by the Pakaraka chief Te Haratua. The result was a conference called by the Governor of New South Wales, Robert Fitzroy, which eased the rising tensions and the flagstaff was replaced. But in January 1845, the flagstaff was once again cut down. The British responded by replacing it with an iron flagstaff but this was again felled. However, by this time Governor FitzRoy had far more to concern himself with. Kororāreka was to provide a backdrop for an uprising with warriors from various tribes led by Chiefs Hōne Heke, Te Ruki Kawiti and Pūkuma sent to plunder the British settlement there. FitzRoy called for reinforcements and all was set for bloody and brutal clash between forces of the Crown and the Māori. [3]
“All this fuss over a flagpole”, Lord Maynard commented, “Can you credit it?”
“Ah it is more than that”, Lord Morpeth replied, “It is a test of the colony, of the authority of the Governor over the native peoples and of the validity of the treaty, I’m afraid it shall escalate until those points are proven militarily to the Māori”.
“I feel sad for them”, Agnes mused, pushing her food about her plate with her fork.
“For whom Ma’am?”, Morpeth replied curiously.
“The Māori”, Agnes said sadly, “It must all be so strange for them. To lose their land and not to understand why”.
“But they are savages Ma’am”, Maynard declared arrogantly, “Tribal people. It is our duty to Christianise them, to show them a more civilised way of living, as we have done in all our colonies”. [4]
“I do see that Lord Maynard”, Lady Wigmore opined, trying to change the subject away from politics as she knew must, “And on that very thing, did you read in the supplement last evening that there are to be Anglican nuns in a house in St Pancras?”
“I did see that Lady Wigmore, indeed”, Maynard nodded approvingly.
“I do hope they will not find the gardens a chore”, Lady Wigmore continued, “Our roses are looking quite poor this year, it really is so unfortunate”
“Well I still think it’s sad”, Agnes repeated, refusing to be moved, “I shall pray for them”
Lady Wigmore looked down nervously at her plate.
“What’s that?”, the King asked from the other end of the table, “What is being said now?”
Lord Morpeth exercised his diplomatic skills.
“We were discussing the issue of the flagstaff in New Zealand, Your Majesty”, Morpeth replied, “The Princess was just telling us how sorry she was about the incident”
“Is that so?”, George replied gruffly, “I didn’t know you knew anything about it Agnes”.
“I read a great deal about it”, Agnes said haughtily, “And I think it’s very unfortunate for the poor Māori, I’m sure they’re very decent people after all”
“Very clearly you have not understood a word you have read”, George snapped, “Now let us talk no more of this tonight. Lady Maynard, will you be joining us at Windsor for Easter next week?”
“Oh yes Sir”, Lady Maynard began, “We are very much looking forward to-“
“What do you say, Bishop?”, Agnes interjected, casting a grin toward the Bishop of London, who almost choked into his glass of wine, “Do you believe the Māori are a savage people?”
The King stood up, his red flushed red. He threw his napkin onto his plate with a loud crash of the cutlery beneath. Silence reigned.
“I’m afraid I have quite lost my appetite”, he said tersely, “Perhaps the ladies might wish to leave us now”
Mid-course, the women at table rose as one, the gentlemen quickly following suit. Agnes shot a prideful grin toward the King and then sauntered out of the room, Lady Wigmore, Lady Maynard et al trundling out after her. The King poured a glass of port and tried to relax but it was no use. He could no longer enjoy himself. With apologies to his remaining guests, he excused himself and retreated to his study.
When we consider Agnes’ behaviour at this dinner party, it is natural that we might compare her to her predecessor, Louise. The thought that the late Queen might ever behave in the way Agnes did that evening is difficult to imagine. Yet it must be remembered that whilst Louise was not that much older than her husband, she was very mature for her years. As such, she seemed to accept her role as Queen consort with ease and though their marriage did have it’s problems, there was rarely the back and forth that was now evident between George and Agnes. Simply put, Agnes was 20 years old, in a foreign country, among strangers. But she was also unhappy at this time and just as she knew what was expected of her – she had Princess Mary to thank for that – she knew exactly how to behave contrary to expectation to cause a stir. Whilst her comments would go no further than the royal dinner table, the King was incensed that she should make them regardless. But rather than speak to her privately and offer a calm, reasoned correction, he did not. Instead, the King wrote a note for Phipps to take to the Princess the next morning. It read:
“Madam,
I do not expect the behaviour of last evening to be repeated ever again at my table and I trust you are suitably ashamed. It is to be regretted that you thought to behave in this way for now I do not wish to see you today.
George R”
When Phipps delivered it, Agnes read it and handed it back.
“Return it”, she said with a little smile, “The King is not my husband yet, I shall not be addressed in this way. I shall see His Majesty at tea, as we agreed”.
“With respect Ma’am”, Phipps began, “His Majesty has made his position clear. And…and he shall not be at home for tea”.
Agnes stopped smiling immediately.
“Where then shall he be?”, she asked, her voice a little shaky.
“He…the….His Majesty is taking tea at Bloomsbury Square, Ma’am”, Phipps replied bluntly. He refused to tell a lie.
Agnes shook her head in disbelief.
“With her”, she said softly, her voice breaking with emotion, “He will be with her”
Phipps waited to be dismissed and then left the room. As he closed the door behind him, he heard the Princess weeping. Something would have to be done. And quickly at that.
Notes
[1] I know there was some interest in how the British Army might be reformed during this period, having removed some of the key players. This is by no means my area of expertise so if there are errors, please do point them out as I’d like to do the best I can and my research may not be as detailed as the knowledge some of my readers already have.
[2] Not a happy read for our romantics but I did say that George’s relationship with Agnes wouldn’t be the garden of roses he enjoyed with poor Louise. The personality clash here was inevitable with the characters I’ve given them and who really can blame Agnes for being suspicious?
[3] As in the OTL.
[4] I wanted to stress here (as I have when we have covered similar views of the period such as antisemitism) that I absolutely abhor the attitude displayed here by Lord Maynard - particularly the use of the word savages. I know the use of this word led to a ban recently - though it wasn't part of a timeline - so I have flagged it up before I've published. But my reason for including it here is to show the arrogance of the average British colonialist at the time. The notion that indigenous people needed to be "civilised" is horrific to us today but back then? Agnes would have been in the minority for thinking of the Maori as people, fellow human beings with the same rights, thoughts and feelings as she has.
Please be aware I don't intend to abuse this sort of language in future posts and it appears here only to highlight the prevailing attitude of the day but also to show us a little of Agnes' personality drawn from her character in the OTL. The real life Agnes of Anhalt-Dessau had a keen interest from a young age in trying to fight prejudices - most notably against Jewish people in her country. I felt the flagstaff war would give a good opportunity for us to see that but also to see how her immaturity can lead to her "showing off" - as I believe she probably would in this situation. She's talking politics when she knows she shouldn't. And she's challenging the established view of the day.
All this being said, if a Mod would like me to remove these lines and replace them with something else, I'm only too happy to do so.
Also to add, Chapter Thirty-One is written and ready to publish but before when I've put two chapters up at the same time, I've had feedback that people often overlook the first because "last post" takes you to the second. And I also don't want to confront people with a wall of text to sift through which might make people a little bored of TTL. To that end, I'll put up the next chapter tomorrow morning and as ever, thankyou for reading!
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Poor Agnes and poor George! Neither of them handled that well - George totally should have explained about Rosa himself - but Agnes should have known better than to challenge the King in public. She's been raised better than that. And since she did, she should have expected the blow-back. George has always needed an oasis of calm in his life. Louise used to provide it, and now Rosa does. Agnes is going to have to learn to accept that, particularly since she's going to get pregnant eventually, and therefore there will be times when she won't be able to be at George's side.
I loved the descriptions of the wedding gifts, especially the elephant and the tiara. That sounds beautiful, if rather heavy!
I loved the descriptions of the wedding gifts, especially the elephant and the tiara. That sounds beautiful, if rather heavy!
Oooofff… I know that George is acting like a man would at the time, but boy is he being an idiot towards Agnes right now
On the plus side, I sense that one of their future daughters will marry a Danish prince (perhaps Frederik VIII?)
This is such a great assessment of what I was trying to achieve with this storyline so a HUGE thankyou for your feedback.
We know that there was never anything between Rosa and the King - and that there never will be - beyond a very close friendship. But Agnes wouldn't and she's yet to understand and appreciate exactly what you say. Rosa isn't going anywhere...neither is Agnes. So some sort of compromise is going to be needed.
And thankyou also for the comment on those gifts, they were huge fun to create!
It's so frustrating isn't it?! Because you want to dislike him sometimes for the way he treats Agnes and yet, as you rightly say, this is how a man of his upbringing, class, position etc would behave at this time.
And yes, very well spotted! Can confirm we'll be visiting Copenhagen quite a lot in the future of Crown Imperial.
Thanks so much for reading and for your great feedback, it's always much appreciated!
Great work!
That said…
As such…he has to know how it looks to anyone who’s outside his immediate circle. A currently-unmarried man, visiting a woman who’s not unattractive, at her home? The automatic assumption by anyone at the time would be ‘she’s his mistress’ - at the time, alas, it wasn’t accepted that men could just be friends with women (hell, there’s still people who think that now). Heck, how it looked came up beforehand IIRC, that was why she left England for a while wasn’t it (if I misremember I apologise)? Especially since Agnes is a very young and comparatively innocent woman - of course she’s going to get the wrong idea. So…yeah, George reacted stupidly here IMO. Reassurance is what’s needed here, not dismissal, especially since as a man of his time he should know how it looks from the outside.
I mean, yeah. You can’t really blame either of them…
That said…
As is said here, George is a man of his time.
As such…he has to know how it looks to anyone who’s outside his immediate circle. A currently-unmarried man, visiting a woman who’s not unattractive, at her home? The automatic assumption by anyone at the time would be ‘she’s his mistress’ - at the time, alas, it wasn’t accepted that men could just be friends with women (hell, there’s still people who think that now). Heck, how it looked came up beforehand IIRC, that was why she left England for a while wasn’t it (if I misremember I apologise)? Especially since Agnes is a very young and comparatively innocent woman - of course she’s going to get the wrong idea. So…yeah, George reacted stupidly here IMO. Reassurance is what’s needed here, not dismissal, especially since as a man of his time he should know how it looks from the outside.
True. Might force through some changes prior to Crimea - it’d be good if buying promotion got phased out before then…
This is such a great observation!
I've mentioned that Agnes is very innocent and naïve but it's equally the case that George is very naïve if he doesn't think people regard Rosa as his mistress for exactly the reasons you describe. I think with George there's possibly a slight arrogance in this. He knows his relationship with Rosa is unimpeachable and...he's the King. Kings don't do that sort of thing, right? Which brings us to the issue of class hypocrisy.
You mention Rosa's absence (she went to France to give birth to an illegitimate child) and you're 100% correct - people would absolutely have known the real reason she went abroad. The upper classes had very few secrets among themselves. But here's where class hypocrisy comes into play. If Rosa was the daughter of a middle class bank clerk who became pregnant out of wedlock by a soldier, she'd have been a social outcast. Her child would have been born in England, her disgrace would have been very public and she'd never escape the stigma that existed surrounding illegitimacy at the time - neither would her daughter. We could expect a similar outcome for working class girls only more severe. In that situation, most ended up facing the horrors of the workhouse - or worse. But because Rosa is well connected, of good background and a woman of private means, she's given a Get Out of Jail Free card. So long as the baby is born abroad and is never mentioned again, high society will simply turn a blind eye. They may gossip quietly at a country house weekend party but the likelihood of it being exposed is slim because...well...as the popular 1920s song had it "Everybody's doing it".
I named Rosa for the infamous Rosa Lewis, mistress of King Edward VII in the OTL. Like our Rosa, Lewis fell pregnant out of wedlock. Had she done so when she was still a scullery maid, she'd have been ruined. But the fact that she fell pregnant after rising through the ranks of the class system to beloved hotelier of the royal, rich and famous allowed her to have her baby abroad, to have the child adopted and then to pretend it never happened. Even though everybody knew that it had.
There's probably that same hypocrisy in George too - or at least, the way people in high society would have responded to Rosa. The working classes would never have known about her, it's unlikely the middle classes would have either. But certainly the upper classes would and whether they believed she was the King's companion - or something more - they'd never have dared mention it or criticise the King for it because...they were all doing the very same thing. It's an interesting dynamic to explore, that idea that those who make the rules break the rules whilst those who have no say face the worst consequences if they do transgress against the social norms. But it also makes it easier for George to affect outrage when someone does say what most people (at least in high society) have thought for some time.
It's certainly something I'm enjoying researching and this will be a slow burn as I don't think it's plausible to have everything change earlier without some careful groundwork but this is why I gave George a keen interest in the military from the start. I knew I wanted him to play some kind of role in army reforms, in time we'll find out what that might be.
The purchase of commissions is definitely something I'm researching atm!
I’d recommend picking up a copy of Wellingtons Scum by Charles River and All the Kings Men by Saul David it gives so great background on the British army from the War of Spanish Succession to Napoleonic War not really the time period we are in but it gives a lot of build up and background detail. Also From the Arquebus to the Breechloader: How Firearms Influenced Early Infantry Tactics By Piers Platt gives a good overview on infantry tactics and strategy of the period.It's certainly something I'm enjoying researching and this will be a slow burn as I don't think it's plausible to have everything change earlier without some careful groundwork but this is why I gave George a keen interest in the military from the start. I knew I wanted him to play some kind of role in army reforms, in time we'll find out what that might be.
Not sure if what I have put up will help.