HER HEART FOR A COMPASS: THE GREAT EXHIBITION
The Great Exhibition London, May 1851
‘It looks like the weather is set fair,’ Charlotte, Duchess of Buccleuch, said as her husband helped her into the waiting carriage.
‘As long as it doesn’t rain, I’ll be happy,’ Walter, the Duke of Buccleuch replied, climbing in beside her. ‘ When we leave Buckingham Palace there will be nine royal carriages in front of us and heaven knows how many behind, with all the usual pageantry and accompanying entourage. It would put a dampener on proceedings if we arrived at the Crystal Palace soaked to the skin.’
‘It’s a pity that the Committee could not organise the weather on top of everything else. You have all worked so tirelessly this last year with Prince Albert, I am sure nothing will spoil the spectacle.’
‘His Royal Highness is a perfectionist and appreciates, as I do, the hours you have spent keeping the Queen company, my dear.’
‘I am fortunate that Her Majesty considers me a friend as well as a loyal servant.’
A sharp kick to the ribs made Charlotte shift awkwardly on the carriage seat as the child she was expecting made its presence felt. Proof, she thought to herself, that she and Walter did occasionally cross paths – not that she would dream of making such an intimate and indelicate observation to her husband.
‘Who cares about a diamond, when there are stuffed elephants?’
It had been almost five years since her daughter Margaret made her appearance, and this would be Charlotte’s seventh confinement in twenty-two years of marriage. She and the Queen would now have the same number of offspring, though Her Majesty had been rather more diligent, taking just eleven years to produce her brood. The Queen made no secret of the fact that she abhorred being in what she called an unhappy condition, and at forty, Charlotte was inclined to agree. Though by her reckoning, the child was not due for another three months, not even the patented maternity corset she wore could disguise her state.
‘It’s going to be a long day for you,’ the Duke said, frowning.
‘I won’t faint,’ Charlotte said, with far more confidence than she felt. ‘I am expecting to be on my feet for hours, I know how much Her Majesty enjoys her pomp and pageantry.’
‘There will certainly be no lack of that today,’ her husband said dryly. ‘The Queen is determined that the world celebrates her husband’s crowning achievement in suitable style.’
‘ You have no need to worry, Walter, I have never let you down or embarrassed you in twenty-two years of marriage, and I don’t intend to start now.’
But her husband had already turned his attention to their waiting gaggle of children, studying them with a critical eye. ‘ William, Henry, Walter and Charlie, you will travel together in the second carriage. Victoria and Margaret, you are to ride with us. And I hope,’ he added, ‘that Margaret will for once follow her mother’s example and behave impeccably.’
It was just after eleven when their coach set out behind the
cavalcade of state carriages on the last leg of the journey from Buckingham Palace to Hyde Park. Crowds lined the streets three and four deep, all of them cheering every passing carriage. Despite Walter’s disapproving glance, Charlotte had not the heart to intervene when Margaret, her big blue eyes alight with awe and wonder, waved enthusiastically back.
There were people from all walks of life decked out in their Sunday best. The special trains which the railway companies had laid on to ferry day-trippers to the capital must have been full to overflowing. And the mood, Charlotte was very relieved to note, was festive. ‘It is positively a carnival atmosphere,’ she said happily, ‘everyone smiling and laughing. I see no signs of trouble.’
‘I hope you are right. The press would love to report negative headlines. They won’t let Prince Albert forget his German roots, even though the man has worked tirelessly for the last year to bring this great tribute to British ingenuity to the masses.’
‘Queen Victoria is determined that today, finally, the people will take her beloved Albert into their hearts.’
‘ Well, they certainly seem to be enthusiastic at the moment,’ the Duke agreed, allowing himself a small smile. ‘The true test of success will be in the ticket sales, but I think I can guarantee that with almost thirteen thousand exhibits to choose from, there will be something for everyone.’
‘I want to see the alarm bed that throws you out when it’s time to get up,’ Margaret chimed in.
‘And I want to see the Koh-i-noor diamond,’ Victoria added.
Margaret snorted. ‘ Who cares about a diamond, when there are stuffed elephants, and steam engines, and a collapsible piano?’
Victoria glared at her sister. ‘It is the biggest diamond in the world.’
Charlotte sighed. It was going to be a very long day. Four hours, perhaps five, she calculated, for the opening ceremony to take place, followed by a brief inspection of the key exhibits.
She was not sure how much interest she would be able to muster for carpets and silks, porcelain and glass, electric telegraphs and Swiss knives, or even a collapsible piano, but she would have to put on a good show, for the Queen would expect an enthusiastic account from her later.
But as the Crystal Palace loomed suddenly into view, she forgot her reservations. It was huge, a glittering threestorey edifice constructed of glass surmounted by the flags from every nation which had contributed an exhibit. It really was quite breathtaking. Even Margaret was struck temporarily dumb.
‘Mr Paxton is a true visionary,’ Charlotte said, finding herself on the verge of tears. ‘And the Prince Consort too, to have invested his faith in such a very extraordinary design.’
Their carriage slowed to a crawl and then finally to a halt at the main entrance, and the Duke and Duchess of Buccleuch with their six children took their place in the procession immediately behind the royal party.
‘Remember now,’ Charlotte cautioned her children, ‘we are on display as much as the exhibits. No smiles, no more waving at the crowds. Never forget who you are and what you represent.’
Ahead of them, Queen Victoria was holding the Prince of Wales by the hand. Ten-year-old Bertie was looking extremely uncomfortable, poor little mite, in his full Highland regalia. Holding Her Majesty’s other hand was Princess Victoria, dressed in white like her mother, though with a wreath of roses in her hair rather than a tiara, and as impeccably behaved as ever.
Charlotte turned back to her own children. Margaret’s face was lit up, her eyes wide with excitement. ‘Mama, is the whole world really here, in this big glass palace?’ as, with a blare of trumpets, the royal procession got underway.