Chapter 9

Despite his renowned wisdom, even the Prime Minister of the British Empire, Henry John Temple, found himself profoundly unsettled. A tempestuous unease brewed across the European continent, a gathering storm presaging upheaval on a catastrophic scale. This looming threat, a monstrous specter of instability, gnawed at his composure, prompting an urgent recourse to Buckingham Palace. There, he unburdened his anxieties to Queen Victoria, a ritual born of years of unwavering trust. This established practice, so ingrained over decades, yielded remarkable results. Victoria, once a callow young county lord, had blossomed into a formidable, world-renowned sovereign – a woman whose strength remained a bulwark of support for Lord Palmerston, a fact that consistently fueled the Tories' envy and secured his unassailable position at Downing Street. "Your Majesty," Lord Palmerston voiced his apprehension, "a malevolent wind whips across Europe, threatening our precarious position." "Bismarck's meteoric ascent is alarming," he continued. "William I's shrewd reinstatement, coupled with Moltke's masterful guidance as Prussian Chief of Staff, has wrought a breathtaking transformation. Prussia's expansion, I fear, will outpace our most pessimistic predictions." Queen Victoria, a woman of striking allure at forty-three, possessed a captivating presence that belied the passage of time since her birth in 1819. Though Lord Palmerston, at seventy-eight, bore the undeniable marks of age, their enduring rapport remained unshaken. The sheer velocity of thirty-three years of shared governance filled him with a potent blend of wonder and reflection. Contemplating the evolution of the eighteen-year-old county lord into the powerful monarch at the helm of a European superpower, he mused on the transformative power of time, its capacity not only to age but to utterly reshape destinies.

Grief had cloaked Queen Victoria in a pall of mourning ever since the death of Prince Albert. For over a month, a profound sorrow had enveloped her, driving her family to seclusion on the Isle of Wight, far from the somber halls of Buckingham Palace. Each member of the royal household carried the weight of their individual losses – husbands, fathers – a collective burden of bereavement. The cornerstone of our national strategy, established long ago, was the ascension of Prussia. Only its burgeoning power could fill the void left by Austria's decline, skillfully leveraging the inherent restlessness of France and Russia. This calculated strategy would sow discord between those two giants, thereby stabilizing the precarious European balance and diverting their combined might away from potentially devastating conflicts. Queen Victoria's voice, heavy with sadness, articulated her anxieties: "The current experience in Prussia is far from idyllic. Her correspondence reveals a growing dissatisfaction amongst William I and Bismarck with our close alliance. They increasingly favor closer ties with the Russian Empire. To counter this, we must make Russia acutely aware of the Prussian threat. Therefore, we must tolerate Prussia's continued expansion, exacerbating the tensions, particularly regarding the Pod Plain. I know your concerns, Lord Palmerston. Bismarck is formidable, but can he truly eclipse even a resurrected Metternich? Even a reborn Metternich would ultimately fall before your strategic prowess." Consoled by her own assessment, Queen Victoria surveyed the European landscape, unable to identify a worthy adversary for Palmerston. Perhaps, she mused, the burden of leadership was an isolating solitude. These national leaders, especially those wielding power within a complex web of influence, existed in a perpetual state of clandestine and overt conflict, utterly alone in their struggles.

Lord Palmerston listened attentively, his head bobbing in agreement. Yet, the Queen, still cloaked in grief, perceived the persistent anxiety etched deep within his gaze. His disquiet, a familiar companion, had intensified; a profound, inexplicable unease unlike anything he'd encountered in his political career, gnawing at his composure. He deflected the gnawing unease, however, pivoting to a matter of state. "Princess Alice is nineteen, my Lord. It's time to consider her betrothal. Does Her Majesty have a favoured suitor in mind?" Queen Victoria, momentarily startled, reflected that, were Prince Albert still alive, this very conversation would be unfolding naturally. For Alice, their beloved daughter, they envisioned a marriage founded on love, yet within the confines of European royalty. To elevate the British monarchy's prestige, they'd compiled a list of distinguished princes since 1860. However, the inherent political complexities associated with alliances among major European powers—the potential for entanglements that could stifle Britain's global ambitions—had proven a significant deterrent. The disastrous marriage of Princess Victoria served as a cautionary tale, reinforcing the Queen's reluctance to align with a major power. Consequently, she favoured a prince from a lesser European kingdom—ideally, the heir to a throne. Last August, she and Albert had even tasked Princess Victoria with compiling a list of eligible Continental princes. From the resulting shortlist, only two candidates emerged as suitable: Prince William of Netherland and Prince Albert of Prussia, a cousin of the Prussian Crown Prince Frederick. Prince Albert of Prussia even paid a visit to Windsor Castle. However, the Queen and her late husband, discerning judges of character, perceived an unsettling ambition in the prince, deeming him unsuitable for Alice's desire for a tranquil life. He was subsequently rejected.

Only William, Prince of Orange, remained, but just as a reciprocal visit to Windsor Castle was being arranged between him and Prince Albert, Albert's sudden demise in December halted all plans. Even the preliminary arrangements for a courtship between Prince Edward and Princess Alexandra of Denmark were postponed indefinitely. The matter entirely slipped Queen Victoria's mind until Lord Palmerston brought it to her attention. However, nothing could have prepared her for William's unexpected abdication. His demotion to Grand Duke of Luxembourg, and his subsequent retreat to that distant duchy, geographically isolated by Prussia and Belgium, left Victoria utterly speechless; the situation was simply bewildering. This unforeseen turn of events profoundly impacted Victoria's perspective on Alice's proposed marriage to William. While she had initially favored the match, the prince's elevation to King of the Netherlands introduced a significant complication. The difference between marrying a prince and marrying a king was, of course, monumental. A prince's position, though inheritable, is relatively secure. Marriage under such circumstances fosters a deep bond, a shared life of princely privilege. However, a king's ascension transforms his bride into a queen overnight, potentially eclipsing the romantic foundations of the union. Lord Palmerston's evident hesitation spoke volumes. Victoria understood instantly that the seasoned statesman, a figure of immense influence despite his seventy-eight years, was again prioritizing political expediency. This weighty consideration, rooted in national interests, left Victoria with a heavy heart; her position, however, constrained her ability to openly counter the Viscount's counsel.

Lord Palmerston, a man of formidable strength, knew his proposal was merely a suggestion; its implementation rested entirely outside his control. Queen Victoria, with a weary sigh, conceded. He continued, his voice carrying the weight of recent events: "The abrupt shift in the Dutch monarchy caught even me off guard. William III, a figure of considerable talent yet equally notable for his inconsistencies, was relentlessly undermined by Thorbeck, his ambitions ultimately dashed. Thorbeck's subsequent reelection left the King disheartened, prompting his retreat from Holland to Luxembourg." Palmerston's gaze sharpened. "Your Majesty, the European landscape is fraught with instability. The Netherlands' strategic importance is self-evident; a Belgian kingdom alone is insufficient. Securing the Netherlands would provide the crucial balance, creating a formidable and unified force." A cautious note entered Victoria's voice. "But, my Lord Viscount, wouldn't such intervention plunge us into the perilous vortex of European power struggles, ensnaring us in intractable conflicts?" Palmerston acknowledged the inherent risk. "Indeed, the existing friction between Belgium and the Netherlands presents a significant obstacle; we risk fostering discord amongst our own allies." His eyes lit up with strategic insight. "Precisely, Your Majesty! The Netherlands' recent economic resurgence, particularly its flourishing financial sector, is undeniable. Amsterdam's position as the undisputed financial heart of Europe is beyond question; the enduring legacy of the Tulip Mania underscores the nation's enduring financial prowess."The Netherlands' diminished financial standing, a consequence of their defeats in the late 17th-century Anglo-Dutch Wars, presented a compelling opportunity. Our advantageous treaty terms, particularly the advantageous repayment of substantial Amsterdam loans, precipitated Amsterdam's economic instability and subsequent decline, paving the way for London's ascendance. For generations, Amsterdam languished, overshadowed by London and Paris, its financial reach limited primarily to Tsarist Russia and the Baltic states. Yet, recent decades, marked by Prussia's ascendancy and burgeoning industrialization, have witnessed a subtle but significant shift. Amsterdam's financial influence is expanding beyond its traditional sphere, causing concern in Paris. This burgeoning power, however, poses no threat to London's dominance; rather, it presents a ripe opportunity. A strategic alliance, achieved through diplomatic means and perhaps a royal marriage, would allow us to subtly exploit this vulnerability. This acquisition would propel London's financial supremacy to unprecedented heights and accelerate its global reach. Such a move would represent a sophisticated extension of British foreign policy, moving beyond the blunt instrument of gunboat diplomacy towards a more subtle and far-reaching strategy. Queen Victoria's apprehension grew with each word. Lord Palmerston's proposal was audacious, seductive, and undeniably tempting—a prospect too alluring to resist. The irresistible allure of acquiring another nation's wealth to enhance the British Empire's power and prestige resonated deeply; it was, after all, a hallmark of British imperial ambition.