King George V
Part One, Chapter Nine: The Days of May
With the general election over and majority government restored, the new Prime Minister Earl Grey, began to settle into his post and appointed a new ministry. But the arrival of new ministers also meant the departure of several key figures in the Royal Household who had served the Royal Family for many years. As a Tory, the Earl of Jersey was replaced by the Whig supporting Duke of Devonshire. Lord George Beresford left his post as Comptroller of the Household and was succeeded by Lord Robert Grosvenor. Other departures included the Countess of Harrow and Baroness Lyndhurst from the Household of Queen Louise but these had proved to be only nominal appointments. The Dowager Queen was still living in Hanover and showed no signs of returning any time soon. Instead, the two ladies appointed to her household by the Duke of Wellington served the household of the Duchess of Clarence whilst officially being in the employ of Queen Louise. Finding replacements for these ladies of the bedchamber was to prove difficult.
Charles Grey, 2nd Earl Grey, Prime Minister.
Not only were none of the ladies approached to take on the post willing to relocate to Herrenhausen with an indefinite return date but the Queen’s reputation preceded her. Since her arrival in England in 1819, Louise hated the custom of appointments to the Royal Household being cut short or extended based on the change of government. She had always much preferred to choose her own ladies of the bedchamber and fortunately for her, the Duke of Wellington had turned a blind eye. At this time, she relied entirely on Baroness Pallenberg who had been appointed an extra-lady of the bedchamber by the previous Prime Minister in an attempt to avoid the usual hysterics which followed new appointments to Queen Louise’s Household. But the new Prime Minister did not enjoy the same relationship with the Royal Family as his predecessor and now, there was an issue raised in parliament which could no longer be ignored.
Not only was it the right of a Prime Minister to make appointments to the Royal Household but Queen Louise was also in receipt of an annuity of £45,000, the highest sum paid to a member of the Royal Family after the King. Shortly before Christmas 1831, John Lee Lee, one of the two Members of Parliament for Wells, raised a question in the Commons asking if Her Majesty Queen Louise intended to now reside permanently in Hanover. If so, did the government believe the Civil List should be amended to reflect that fact? The Prime Minister did not necessarily agree with the sentiment but he did have concerns that the row could escalate. To that end, he asked the Duke of Clarence to try and convince his sister-in-law to return to Britain. Knowing that this would only encourage Queen Louise to extend her stay in Hanover, the Duke tried another method. He invited the Cambridges and the Dowager Queen to come to Windsor to celebrate Christmas. At the same time, the Prime Minister appointed Louisa, Marchioness of Lansdowne (wife of the new Lord President of the Council), to Louise’s household with the suggestion that she begin her service in the Queen’s employ in the new year when hopefully Louise had returned to England permanently from Hanover.
Schloss Herrenhausen.
Herrenhausen had proved to be a much preferable residence for Queen Louise than Royal Lodge. As Dowager Queen of Hanover, she only outranked her brother-in-law (the Duke of Cambridge) and his wife as the Vice Regal couple in the order of precedence but this gave her an immediate sense of authority which she enjoyed. Whilst she had no formal role, position or power in Hanover, Louise seemed lost in a fantasy world where she was actually Queen of Hanover and that her wishes must be respected and obeyed without question. Whilst her relationship with her sister Augusta had always been a close one, now cracks began to appear. Augusta had no great longing for authority, neither did she care all that much about position, protocol or precedence. But she quickly became tired of being forced to attend to her younger sister as if she were a lady in waiting and on several occasions, Louise seemed to make a concerted effort to humiliate Augusta. At a banquet given for officers of the Hanoverian Army, Louise arrived uninvited and late forcing the entire gathering to stand in the middle of the meal. She then made her way to the middle of the table where her sister Augusta was seated as the highest-ranking lady present – that was, until Louise arrived. Without saying a word, Louise waited until Augusta left her place and sat down in her chair, dismissing Augusta’s half eaten dinner and then launching in a monologue about the poor quality of her rooms at Herrenhausen which she intended to refurbish.
It was in this atmosphere that the Duke of Clarence’s invitation to Windsor came and naturally, the Cambridges jumped at the opportunity. Queen Louise refused to return to England and when pressed by her brother-in-law, Louise replied indignantly; “I am Queen of Hanover, I shall find more friends here than I ever have in England”. The Cambridges departed for England taking their two children, Prince George and Princess Augusta, with them. Queen Louise gave her sister nothing to take to England for her own children but staged elaborate Christmas celebrations at Herrenhausen which cost a small fortune and left a significant dent in the Viceroy’s annual budget. On Christmas Day itself, Louise gave presents to her household but refused to present smaller gifts to the servants as was the custom. Instead she delegated this task to Baroness Pallenberg. She also caused offence when she failed to deliver the customary Christmas Box to the pastor of the Kreuzkirche. Given that he was not allowed to profit directly from the weekly collection, the Viceroys of Hanover had always set aside a generous financial gift at Christmas time which supplemented his income through the rest of the year. The Duchess of Cambridge put the situation right when she returned to Herrenhausen but word had already circulated that the pastor had been disrespected by Queen Louise and her reputation in Hanover began to suffer just as much as it had in England.
Christmas was far more jolly at Windsor Castle that year, though the party was smaller than it had been on previous occasions. Two guests most keenly missed were the Coburg princes, Ernst and Albert. The young King always enjoyed the company of the Coburgs but the Christmas of 1831 saw them spend the holiday season with King Leopold in Brussels. It was not only the King who missed them. It was the Duchess of Clarence who was first made aware my Madame Fillon that the twelve-year old Prince Albert had been writing letters to the nine-year-old Princess Charlotte Louise since his last visit. They were harmless, childish letters but it escaped nobody’s attention that clearly the young Prince had a special fondness for the Princess. The letters were hardly romantic, indeed, in one he asks if Charlotte Louise “has grow taller yet because you are very small and I now can stand much higher than you”. In another, he accuses the Princess of stealing his playing cards; “which you said Georgie had taken but which I know you took because I saw you with them”. But there was a touching admission of fondness too; “Papa says we must spend Christmas with Uncle Leopold but I think that is quite silly because you will not be there and so I will not enjoy it at all”.
Adelaide, Duchess of Clarence.
The Duchess of Clarence thought the exchange very sweet and decided to pretend she knew nothing about it. If the letters changed in tone or became unsuitable in any way, she would raise the issue with King Leopold but for now, it seemed a healthy friendship that required no interference from the adults. Some time later, the exchange was brought out into the open as Princess Charlotte Louise could speak of nothing else but Prince Albert and that he might be coming to England in the summer. Innocently, the Duchess of Clarence asked Princess Victoria if she had received any letters. Pouting she replied, “Yes but only from silly Ernst and I’m not sending a reply to him because he has a funny head”. At the Christmas festivities in 1831, the children were once again indulged by their aunt and uncle. The Clarences went above and beyond to give them happy memories and in later life, Princess Victoria recalled that “There were never Christmases as wonderfully merry as those we enjoyed with Uncle William and Aunt Adelaide at Windsor”.
That Christmas brought with it an unexpected announcement at court from Baron Stockmar which delighted the King but irritated the Duke of Clarence. King Leopold wanted Stockmar to return to his employ and whilst Stockmar wished to return to Coburg, he had agreed to serve as a kind of ex officio advisor to the court at Brussels. [1] For the Duke of Clarence, this marked a turning point. He now saw Stockmar as a “vain and ambitious creature” and resented what he regarded as “an abandonment of the duties he promised to carry out because he sees more rewards in Belgium than he does in England”. Stockmar addressed the issue himself in his memoirs published sometime after his death but his reasons for leaving England have been embroidered a little. He claims that the deciding factor was “a long and mutually close friendship with King Leopold” and that he felt the post in Brussels would prove more challenging. Yet he also says that he had decided to retire by this time and that his new post with King Leopold was “a more informal, more casual appointment which allowed me to reside at my home in Coburg whilst still being of use to His Majesty”.
But in a letter written to a friend shortly after his departure from England in 1832, Stockmar is far more truthful about his reasons for leaving England. Firstly he felt “a complete lack of support for the system of education agreed with the late King which has never been enforced by the Duke of Clarence who is far too indulgent of his nephew”. Secondly, he disliked life in England and “had never intended to remain in the country outside of the service of [King Leopold]”. Another passage in the missive might give some clue as to the real reason why Stockmar decided to leave England; “because the long-term prospect was not a reliable one and there was little guarantee that my position would be secure when His Majesty came of his age”. This suggests that Stockmar was well aware (and perhaps even expected) that King George V would hold to his childhood resentment of the strict disciplinarian Stockmar represented in his early life and dismiss him at the earliest opportunity. Stockmar therefore faced a choice between a further five years of service in England only to be ousted when the King reached the age of majority or secure a post in Brussels where he could exert his influence and authority for as long as he wished without the threat of dismissal.
Baron Stockmar in retirement.
The Duke of Clarence rewarded Stockmar for his service by making him a Knight Commander of the Royal Guelphic Order but there was to be no pension, something not guaranteed to members of the Royal Household at this time and given solely at the discretion of the King (or in this case, his regent). Clarence appointed John Lawton, the King’s tutor from Cambridge, as the King’s Private Secretary which in effect gave Lawton control over George V’s education and lifestyle. Stockmar left a detailed report on the King’s progress thus far and a detailed essay on his recommendations going forward; Lawton conveniently misplaced them. His first decision was to liberate George V from the solitude of Royal Lodge and George was allowed to return to his rooms adjoining those of his sister and cousin in the State Apartments of Windsor Castle. Lawton also relaxed the number of hours the King was to study but in an important change of direction, he also abandoned the syllabus that Stockmar had implemented. Lawton saw the King’s interests lay in military history and philosophy and he allowed George to spend more time on these subjects rather than forcing him to spend hours learning Greek or studying English literature for which he showed no aptitude or interest. But Lawton also abandoned any prospect of the King being educated at a public school and most importantly, he brought to an end the seclusion enforced by Stockmar from boys of his own age.
Lawton created a social circle for the young King taken from the children of prominent members of the Royal Household. The most senior was Henry Fitzalan-Howard, the Earl of Arundel (and future 14th Duke of Norfolk) who was five years older than the King. Though he was a Roman Catholic, he was also heir to the hereditary offices of Earl Marshal and Chief Butler of England and Lawton felt installing an older influence into the group essential to keeping order. Next came John Henry Campbell, Earl of Campbell and his brother George (the future 8th Duke of Argyll) who were the nephews of the childless Lord Steward, George Campbell, 6th Duke of Argyll. The youngest son of the Earl of Jersey, the Honourable Francis Child Villiers was included as was Frederick Blomfield, one of the sons of the Bishop of London. George had never had friends of his own age outside of the extended Royal Family before and initially, Lawton noted that he was withdrawn and shy, seemingly unwilling to introduce himself or enter into conversation with his new social group. But this did not last long. The ice was broken when the Earl of Arundel asked if the boys might see the King’s collection of lead soldiers and before long, the Great Hall of Windsor Castle had been transformed into a battlefield as the boys debated strategy, becoming friends in the process.
Perhaps as a result of this, or because of his passion for military history at this time, the young King asked his uncle, the Duke of Clarence, if his friends might have special uniforms because they were to create their own special regiment. The Duke indulged this (though the regiment was never officially created of course) and the Windsor Brigade was formed. George gave himself the position of Field Marshal whilst the other members of the group (which was expanded to include the Coburg princes and Prince George of Cambridge) were Brigadiers. The young King designed the uniform personally which was formed of a dark blue high-necked frock coat with silver buttons bearing the King’s monogram. Brigadiers wore silver tabs and a small crown was embroidered on the epaulettes. To complete the overall look, they were given dark blue cocked hats edged with silver brocade trim sporting a plume of three ostrich feathers and each was given a miniature sword (blunted to avoid unfortunate accidents).
The Duke of Clarence was delighted. Though this may have appeared to be a childish game of playing soldiers, nobody could fail to be impressed when the future King spent hours drilling his troops in Windsor Great Park. He even ticked off a guardsman who failed to salute to the Earl of Arundel when he passed by, objecting that the young man was a Brigadier and entitled to respect from a junior rank. It was possibly the Windsor Brigade which also gave the King his life-long love of uniforms. During his reign, he would take a personal interest in the redesign of British military dress and he would also extend the use of the Windsor Uniform introduced by King George III in 1777 with a variation established for senior courtiers. He also loved insignia and whenever he was presented with a new order of chivalry from a visiting diplomat or head of state, he would commission a special box to store it in and write a detailed account of its history, when it was given and how it was to be worn. He took this further in 1880 when he established the Royal Georgian Order, a dynastic order of knighthood created to recognize personal service to the monarch.
With Stockmar’s departure, the King’s life became far happier and he began to excel in his studies. He deeply impressed Earl Grey during an audience when he asked what the Prime Minister made of the philosophy of Thomas Hobbes. After some discussion of the issue, the young King disappeared and returned with his copy of
Leviathan; “I have made some notes on this matter”, George announced seriously, “I should be grateful if you would tell me if you believe them to be good observations”. In a report to the Duke of Clarence, Lawton praised the King’s “natural curiosity for answers, his serious approach to the subjects he finds of interest and his respectful and disciplined nature in the school room”. It was not a universally glowing report however and Lawton observed that “His Majesty shows no real flair for poetry and has very little interest in literature. Indeed, he finds it to be a bore. Yet he does read for pleasure, even if these are more serious works. As yet these do not include religious works and I confess that I do have some concerns at his lack of interest in the subject overall”. Lawton was not the only one to notice the King was not particularly enthused by religion. The Bishop of London raised eyebrows when George quoted Voltaire in an audience and one Sunday as the Dean of Windsor preached on the subject of forgiveness, the young King was heard to remark; “This is all very dreary”.
Charles James Blomfield, Bishop of London.
The one subject conspicuously absent from the King’s schedule was politics. Whilst he was educated on the constitution and how parliament worked, it was felt important not to encourage him to take a stance on the big issues of the day, at least not until he was much older and even then, he must be taught the importance of the Sovereign’s role in relation to the political arena. In later life, the King resented this; “During the years of my education, I might have been toppled by revolution and sent to the guillotine, yet I knew nothing of this because politics were verboten to me”. The King was perhaps over exaggerating slightly but there was a very real prospect in 1832 that England was to face its biggest upheaval since the Civil War. The catalyst was the Great Reform Act and the resulting chaos was dubbed ‘The Days of May’. [2]
As Prime Minister, the Duke of Wellington had spent his tenure resisting calls for electoral reform. This had ultimately toppled his government, split his party and had rewarded the pro-reform Whigs with a majority. Earl Grey’s Reform Act of 1832 [3] sought to to radically overhaul the electoral system in England and Wales. It proposed to abolish tiny districts, introduce increased representation to cities and to change the selection process for Members of Parliament to avoid one powerful patron installing their preferred candidates. But by far it’s most ambitious aim was to expand the franchise to the give the vote to small landowners, tenant farmers, shopkeepers and householders who paid a yearly rental of £10 or more. Whilst some exemptions were to be introduced allowing for lodgers to vote, the act would only expand the franchise to qualifying men and there would be an explicit statutory bar to women voting by defining a voter as a “male person”.
At the Committee Stage, opponents of the bill slowed its progress by introducing tedious and long-winded objections to minor details but ultimately this proved futile; the Whig majority meant the bill would sail through the Commons at the voting stage before it moved on to the House of Lords. Nonetheless, Earl Grey anticipated the bill’s defeat. The Whigs had no majority in the Lords and whilst the Tory party had split, there was still unanimous agreement between the moderate Tories and the Unionists that the Reform Bill should be opposed. Many saw it as a threat to their financial interests or as an attempt to gerrymander. The Duke of Newcastle, the leader of the Unionists in the House of Lords, decried the bill as “indulging the radical mob” and said that if it passed, the Whigs might never leave office. Grey had predicted this response but he could not foresee that when the bill came to the vote, it would be the Lords Spiritual who defeated it.
Some Tory peers had concerns that the public mood was not only pro-reform but violently so. They worried that if the bill failed, the country might sink into insurrection. Unwilling to be blamed for this, they refrained from voting entirely so that they could be seen as neither supportive nor opposed to the Reform Act. But this voting deficit made the defeat of the bill a certainty and unwittingly made the Lords Spiritual the scapegoat. It was the Bishops who saw the bill rejected by 41 votes and a cheer went up in the chamber as the result was read. None could have predicted that the consequences would be immediate. The Birmingham Political Union, founded in 1829 by Thomas Attwood, had held public meetings since 1830 on reform and counted some 15,000 people among its membership. It’s aims were much the same as those contained in the Reform Bill and when it came to the evening of the vote on the 5th of May 1832, the BPU had staggered runners from Westminster to other large cities and towns so that the result could be passed quickly from place to place.
A painting of the Attwood Rally in Vauxhall.
Naturally, London was the first city to see the full effects of the bill’s defeat. [4] Initially, Thomas Attwood addressed a crowd of around 3,000 people in Vauxhall in a pre-organised rally to respond to the inevitable defeat of the bill in the Lords. By the end of his address that evening, the crowd had grown to 20,000 and the atmosphere was so tense that the recently formed Metropolitan Police asked for reinforcements from the army should the situation escalate quickly. When the news finally came of the bill’s defeat however, neither Attwood nor these reinforcements keep order. The crowd broke free in the chaos and swarmed toward Regent Bridge [5] toward the Palace of Westminster. When they could not get close to entering the palace, the crowd immediately dispersed into the surrounding streets. As the news of the bill’s defeat travelled, their numbers increased. Diarist Charles Greville noted; “There seemed no man in the city who did not share the anger of the rioters and who was determined that his neighbours should know of it. Looking down from my window, I estimated there to be some 200 men in Greek Street alone and the dull roar of greater crowds could be heard all over the city”.
In most cases, the army managed to contain the crowds by forming barricades at the ends of streets and forcing them away from the Palace of Westminster. In other cities across England, the number of soldiers was not enough to keep order and the mob was quickly joined by those who didn’t much care about the political situation but saw the opportunity to engage in violence. It did not help matters that in most cities, the news that the Reform Act had not passed coincided with the closure of the public houses and drunkards spilled out onto the streets looking for trouble. In Bristol, the city jail became a target and prisoners were freed en masse. They joined the riots whilst seeking out their jailors for revenge. Control of the city was quickly lost and for three days, the city centre burned causing £300,000 of damage and 250 casualties. The scene was recreated in Derby and Sheffield whilst in Birmingham, the local magistrates were overrun and locked in the holding cells of the local goal.
In many places, the reaction was uncoordinated and saw random attacks which often had more to do with local grievances than the national situation. But in Nottingham and London the protesters had set upon one very clear target; the Duke of Newcastle. The leader of the Unionists whose words on the Reform Act had been the most opposed and most widely reported, the rioters intended to make him pay the price. Nottingham Castle saw a huge surge of people who wasted no time in setting the building on fire. It was burnt to the crowd as the mob then made their way to Clumber Park, the Duke’s secondary estate in Nottingham where his family were in residence. Fortunately, Clumber was successfully protected with minimal damage. The case was very different in London where the Duke had insisted on leaving the Palace of Westminster to return to his Portman Square townhouse. According to Robert Peel, he was heard to say “I shall not be intimidated by radicals” as he boarded his coach and left the Palace.
Nottingham Castle burns on the first night of the Days of May.
As his coachman approached the Duke's home, he noticed an ominous glow in the distance. Portman Square was on fire. The coachman immediately tried to turn into a side street but the crowds beyond the area had become aware of the Portman Square blaze and were heading towards it from behind the Duke of Newcastle’s carriage. At this time, it was commonplace for peers to display their coats of arms on banners hanging from the doors of their coaches. This proved fatal for the Duke of Newcastle. As he leaned out of the coach to try and bring the banners in, his coachman panicked and deserted him. One of the protesters, William Edmonton, spied the Duke leaning from his coach and cried out “There he is! There’s Newcastle!”. The mob swarmed towards the coach. The Duke tried but failed to latch the doors and six men entered, dragging Newcastle from his coach just before the horses reared and overturned the coach, killing two protesters in the chaos. The men threw a rope around Newcastle and bound him, carrying him on their shoulders to Portman Square Garden.
The Metropolitan Police had been made aware of the situation and were on their way but were slowed trying to quell other riots going on throughout the city. The mob was so large that it stalled them in Upper Berkeley Street by which time, the Duke of Newcastle had been kicked to death. Not content with their kill, they hoisted the Duke’s body onto their shoulders and paraded him for a time before perhaps realizing the gravity of their actions and dropping him into a fountain. The crowd began to flee as the police began to filter through onto the scene but they were too late. Portman Square was engulfed in flames, Newcastle had been murdered and in the ensuing rush to flee the scene, 56 people were trampled to death. Soldiers were dispersed throughout London but again, the sheer number of people meant the streets were difficult to navigate. As news reached the Palace of Westminster at the chaos growing across the city, the Lords locked themselves into the chamber for safety.
This undoubtedly saved many of them from sharing Newcastle’s fate. A crowd had broken into Lambeth Palace and had ransacked the building, finally setting it alight before fleeing the scene. The Bishop of London’s residence, Fulham Palace, was given the same treatment. But some in the Commons had already left and for Unionists and Tories, this meant taking a serious risk. One who did so was the Unionist leader in the House of Commons, Sir Richard Vyvyan. He made the catastrophic error of trying to fight back the crowd from his door and fired a pistol, killing a 20-year-old rioter. The mob retaliated, disarmed him and used his own pistol against him. His body was then stolen by two rioters who threw him into the Thames after looting it for any valuables they might find. Inside Vyvyan’s residence, his lover appeared at the door wrapped in nothing but a fur blanket and yelled to the crowds; “Do not attack me gentlemen, I was only hired for the evening!”. The crowds roared with laughter and she was carried on the shoulders of a handful of men to the safety of a nearby inn. Vyvyan’s house was burned.
Henry Pelham-Clinton, 4th Duke of Newcastle, 1785 - 1832. Seen here with the Portman Square Declaration which founded the Unionist Party.
At Clarence House, the Duke and Duchess were quickly led to the wine cellar where they were hidden and protected by armed guards. The Duke was said to remain calm (“They have no dispute with us my dear”) but the Duchess was hysterical and quickly began screaming that she was to be “slain like Marie Antoinette!”. [7] Curiously, the royal residences were spared the crowd’s wrath. Whilst soldiers were dispatched to protect Buckingham Palace and Clarence House, the worst they saw were a handful of stones, bricks and bottles thrown over the walls. A small group tried mounting the gates at Buckingham Palace but were quickly convinced to come down by the soldiers present. The Duke of Clarence was correct in his assessment. The rioters had no quarrel with the monarchy. Yet Clarence knew the next steps he took would be crucial and if he put a foot wrong, that could rapidly change with catastrophic consequences.
As the country burned and the streets descended into anarchy, Earl Grey did all he could to ensure that the full force of the law was enacted against those who rioted. Whatever sympathies he might have for their cause, he knew that restoring public order at any cost must be his priority. As they had in Merthyr Tydfil, some of the rioters waved red flags and some even took up arms against the military. Grey feared if he could not restore order, revolution was inevitable. Fortunately, London was not only the first city engulfed by violence and fire-setting but the first to have order restored. Bristol followed after three days. Liverpool and Manchester would take longer, with rioters managing to maintain control of the cities for almost a fortnight. It seemed there would be a respite from uprising but nobody in parliament could fool themselves that violence would return if the bill was introduced and failed once again. Ironically, the Days of May had proven something to Earl Grey, and to his opponents; the public wanted reform and if it was denied to them in parliament, they would take it for themselves on the streets. Even the most ardent opponent of reform had to concede this fact. At Apsley House some days after the riots finally settled down, the Duke of Wellington was heard to remark; “We have a clear choice before us now; reform or revolution”. The choice was soon to be made.
[1] Stockmar left England for Coburg in 1830 when Prince Leopold became King of the Belgians. He served him as an advisor but eventually was sent back to England when Victoria became Queen in the OTL. Both she and Prince Albert welcomed Stockmar and he became a much-valued advisor to them but in this TL, naturally he will not return to England. I did ponder if he would have valued his position in the British court more than the one he took on in Brussels but as the TL says, I figured he would not be so naïve as to think George V would want to retain his services when he reached the age of majority.
[2] Obviously this is a very different ‘Days of May’ to the one in the OTL but it's based loosely on the same major events in English cities. The timing is different because of the extended tenure of the Duke of Wellington etc in TTL and so some of the events have been sandwiched together, delayed or exaggerated to fit the new narrative. But it's not a vast departure from the events of the OTL which were considered by some to be the beginnings of a revolution.
[3] We don’t have the First Reform Bill in this TL so the act itself will just be called the Reform Act, colloquially still the Great Reform Act. It comes in 1832.
[4] In the OTL, it was Derby but again, we’re dealing with a different situation/timescale here.
[5] Now Vauxhall Bridge, Regent Bridge was the name of the original bridge that stood there in 1832.
[6] Again, delayed in this TL.
[7] Queen Adelaide in the OTL was haunted by Marie Antoinette’s fate and when the 1831/32 riots broke out, she was heard to say this so it's a direct quote.