The government cannot introduce a tariff
to protect every industry threatened by cheaper imports, ma'am.
Isn't that exactly what the Corn Laws do, Sir Robert?
- My fault. - You are looking prosperous these days. Is that real gold?
The drains are like an Augean stable and... it's porous.
If it bothers you so much, then stop complaining
and do something about it.
You are giving me permission to reform the way the palace is run?
Where do you come from, Miss Cleary?
County Cork, sir.
Well, the Royal Palace is no place for papists.
Ernest, I am concerned, you are behaving like Papa.
I like to think that I'm honouring his memory.
There are no secrets between us.
No secrets.
If I were a member of the lower orders,
I might blame the Prime Minister, who supports the Corn Laws
that make bread unaffordable, for my misfortunes.
? Gloriana
? Alleluia
? Gloriana
? Alleluia
? Gloriana
? Alleluia
? Alleluia ?
'And the Lord made an east wind blow across the land,
all that day and all night.
And the wind had brought the locusts.
They invaded all Egypt.
Settled down in every part of the country in great numbers.
They covered all the ground until it was black.
They devoured all that was left after the hail.
Everything growing in the fields. The fruit on the trees.
Nothing green was left in any part of the land of Egypt.
The Egyptians had broken their promise to the Israelites
and God punished them with a plague
that made the sky dark, and the land barren.'
What a gloomy sermon.
I found it rather thought-provoking.
How pestilence and plague is part of God's will.
What can be gloomier than that?
I've seen potato fields in my parish
where every plant is black, my lord.
And when they dig the tubers up they are quite putrid.
I believe the black stuff can be scraped off,
and what is left may be boiled down to make a farinaceous mixture
which is most nourishing.
I have set up a soup kitchen in my parish, for my flock.
And in the spirit of Christian charity,
I welcome any papist
who wishes to be baptised into the Church of Ireland.
My congregation, I must say, has swelled.
Every cloud, or should I say, rotten potato, has a silver lining.
But if some poor beggar were to show up without a certificate of baptism,
- what then? - I seem to remember, Traill,
but you were not so charitably disposed
towards the papists in your parish
when they refused to pay their tithes.
That was wilful disobedience, my lord,
but this calamity is not of their making.
Oh, come now, Traill.
I think you will find it is entirely of their own making.
- This reliance on one -- - Let us be clear about this.
Miss Stevens, a package.
And this for Mr Edwards.
And what is this?
I just don't recognise these markings.
- That will be for me. - Are you sure, Miss Cleary,
they look like hieroglyphics to me.
Just give her the letter, Mr Penge.
And I thought they spoke English in Ireland.
Very well, carry on.
Ernest!
Can it really be you?
I wasn't expecting you until the christening.
Well, I hope I am still welcome.
You are always welcome here.
How are things at Coburg?
You know how it is.
The roof of the Hall Of Giants is still leaking.
And the girls at the Golden Fleece are as educational as ever.
I heard that after Paris you went straight to Baden-Baden.
It seems you are never at home.
My doctors advised me
that a course of the waters there might be beneficial.
What, you are ill?
Are you serious?
I enjoyed myself perhaps a little too much in Paris.
Well, I am glad you have come back.
News from home?
It's nothing.
- Are you sure? - Mm-hm.
Your Majesty, Mr Trevelyan here, who works in the Irish office,
has drawn up some suggestions for the new Archbishop of Dublin.
I don't know any of these names.
It is hard to attract candidates of the very highest calibre
to the Irish Sea, ma'am.
The church there has financial difficulties.
The so-called tithe war has been very damaging.
A war?
The Irish, as a race, are prone to exaggeration, ma'am.
Some unruly elements among the Catholic peasantry
objected to paying tithes to the Church of Ireland
and made some violent protests.
I believe some clergymen were burnt in effigy and suchlike.
But if the peasants are Catholic,
then why are they paying money to a church they don't belong to?
The Church of Ireland is the established church.
It is a vital bulwark against the forces of anarchy, ma'am.
Catholics outnumber Protestants by ten to one.
If the church were to flounder,
then the very foundation of Irish society would crumble.
- I had no idea. - I would be more than happy
to explain the Irish situation further, ma'am.
When your nursery duties allow, of course.
- Your honour! - Halt!
Stop!
Mammy won't wake up.
Daddy!
Hello, my darling.
If you look carefully, sir,
you can still see the remains of the Roman hypocaust.
The palace is built on a sewer?
As I made clear in my report,
in London we are still relying on a drainage system
that was built by the Romans.
Half a mile from here in the rookeries of Pimlico,
thousands of people are living without any access to clean water
and no way to dispose of their waste.
The streets are no better than open sewers.
So what you are saying is this...
.. even in the 19th century,
our public sanitation is inferior to that of the Romans?
I'm afraid so.
Well, I will not only be supporting your commission, Mr Chadwick,
I fear your work must begin here at the palace.
We must show the world that cleanliness is next to godliness.
Thank you. Gentlemen, please...
And if you really intend to put water closets throughout the palace,
well, here would be a suitable place
to install one for the servants.
Hygiene should not only be the preserve of the rich,
- Mr Chadwick. - I couldn't agree with you more, your Royal Highness.
Hygiene? Is that German for an assault on individual liberty?
I think that the female members of the household
will see it not as an assault, but as a convenience.
I'm going to bed, Robert.
Please don't stay up all night.
I saw a woman die of starvation today, Anne.
She left five children.
Oh, I'm sorry to hear that.
- I'll visit the family tomorrow. - The name is Keenan.
They live at the crossroads.
- Catholics? - Famine has no denomination, Anne.
The people of this parish have nothing to eat.
The same people
that tried to burn this house down three years ago, Robert?
I know... but Anne, the entire potato harvest has gone.
Did you speak to the Bishop about a living in Dublin?
We had more important matters to discuss.
What could be more important than your family's happiness, Robert?
'Sir, the haggard eye.
The pale, sunken cheek.
One poor creature came up to me and staggered like a drunk man.
I charged him with intoxication but alas, it was starvation.
Famine is advancing with strides so fearful
that I verily believe
that if some superhuman effort is not made to relieve us,
half our population will erelong be blotted from the book of being.'
Sir Robert, have you read this letter from the rector of Skull?
He writes that people in his parish are living off seaweed...
and nettles.
As you will see in my memorandum of the 17th, ma'am,
nettles contain more nourishment than you might imagine.
I believe, when gathered young, the leaves taste like spinach.
Doctor Traill writes that people are too weak to bury their dead.
And that corpses are left by the side of the road.
The Irish like to imbibe at funerals.
Perhaps that is why they are incapable of digging a decent grave.
Aren't you going to do anything, Prime Minister?
I'm afraid it would not be... desirable
for the government to intervene, ma'am.
The truth is, ma'am,
the population of Ireland has grown beyond its natural limits.
It would be immoral of us to interfere
in what is an inevitable period of self-regulation.
Self-regulation?
I don't know if you are familiar with the works of Malthus, ma'am,
this is exactly the sort of situation he predicted.
Population growth always outstrips food production,
with inevitable results.
I think I should like to visit Ireland.
I feel I need to see the situation for myself.
Such a visit would be inadvisable, ma'am.
Why not?
Surely my presence will bring them some comfort.
I'm not sure how comforting your presence would be.
I could not guarantee your safety.
Yes, as I thought.
The rash and the mouth lesions are common manifestations, Mr Schubert.
Most unfortunate, of course, that the women who carry this disease
do not present their symptoms so evidently.
Is there a cure?
I cannot promise that... but there is a new treatment
that I believe is most efficacious.
I am prepared to try anything.
It is an expensive undertaking.
Don't worry, Doctor, I can pay your fees.
In that case, I will make the arrangements.
Six sessions of half an hour each
and I think you will see a distinct improvement.
The mercury vapour is not pleasant,
but I believe the results are worth it.
Only another ten minutes, Mr Schubert.
And this is where the servants' water closets would be.
There can be no distinction when it comes to hygiene.
Only when it comes to the Irish.
I do not know what you mean.
I mean, if English labourers were dying in ditches
it would be a scandal.
But because they are Irish, they are ignored.
I do not see what that has to do with water closets for servants.
Albert none of this makes sense to me.
I merely wanted the people that work for us to do so in decency.
Would you rather they worked in a sewer?
Victoria, I can see how much you care about the situation in Ireland,
but we have to remind ourselves that charity begins at home.
You think this is enough?
Trust Sir Robert to do what is best.
He has served in Ireland.
He knows the situation better than most.
He's a good man... and a Christian.
Your Majesty... have you heard the news?
What news?
Sutherland's dead.
How?
It was a hunting accident.
Poor Harriet.
I shall ask her to the palace.
You've given up already?
Mens sana in corpore sano.
I have neither.
Well, you could always go back to Coburg.
Live a healthy life there.
With a delightful wife, chosen for me by Uncle Leopold.
Ernest...
.. I do not know if you are aware...
.. Harriet Sutherland's husband has died.
I did not know that.
He broke his neck whilst hunting.
Poor Harriet.
Victoria would like her to return to court.
I think perhaps it is too soon.
What do you think?
Drummond!
I didn't know you were at the palace.
I had some papers for the Queen from the Prime Minister.
I should go, there is a debate on the Irish question.
Yes, the Queen talks about nothing else.
The Prime Minister is doing what he can.
He can't alter his policy
just because the Queen's read some letters in The Times.
The Irish are starving.
Then the Queen should reach into her own purse.
Women are so damn emotional!
Women like your fiancee?
She is insisting on setting a date right in the middle of the session.
Sorry.
You don't want to hear about that, do you?
And I must go to the debate.
Goodbye, Alfred.
Have you lost your wits, Traill?
Do you understand what you are saying?!
That we ought to feed a gaggle of potato-eating papists
because they have brought this misfortune upon themselves
through their own improvidence and fecklessness?!
It's not their fault the harvest failed, my lord.
But it is not the church's responsibility to feed them.
Let them find work. If we were to start supporting them,
there would be no end to it.
They must learn to live within their means!
What means?!
A loaf of bread now costs ten shillings.
That is a year's rent, my lord.
The people of this parish are already starving.
- Soon they will be homeless as well. - That is not our concern, Traill!
'For the poor shall never cease out of the land.
Therefore, I command thee say, 'Thou shalt open thine hand wide
unto thy brother, to thy poor and to thy needy in thy land.''
Deuteronomy 15:11!
Do you ever want to return to civilisation, Traill?
I hear the new Archbishop of Dublin is looking for a chaplain.
I'm sure your wife would like to return to the society she's used to.
Mrs Traill understands my mission.
I hope so, Traill, because I can assure you
you will never return to Dublin if you persist in flouting my authority.
I believe, my lord, that I answer to a higher authority...
even than yours.
In County Cork the potato crop has failed completely,
but if you send relief to Ireland...
Then every factory worker in Manchester
will ask why he must spend half his income on bread,
while the Irish peasant is given charity.
If I send help to Ireland, Drummond,
it is only just that I repeal those laws
that artificially protect the price of British wheat.
- If I do that... - .. the party will rebel.
Every Tory squire whose income is guaranteed by those corn laws
will think I've betrayed them.
And they'd be right to do so.
Wouldn't the Prime Minister agree that it is time
to call the formidable effects of the potato blight a famine,
and act accordingly!
If it were known
that we undertook the task of supplying the Irish with food,
we would, to a great extent,
lose the support of the Irish gentry...
the Irish clergy...
and the Irish farmer!
Order!
Yes, here, here. Quite right, too!
It is quite impossible
for the government to support 4m people.
Here, here.
- Here! - Order!
The mercury vapour has been most effective.
The rash is gone... and all the other symptoms have subsided.
I really am very pleased with the results, Mr Schubert.
Does that mean that I am cured?
I make no guarantees, sir...
.. but if the symptoms do not return, then I think we may hope.
May I ask, sir, if you are married?
I am not married, no.
It would be most unfortunate if an innocent party were to be infected.
And, of course, the children in such cases can be terribly blighted.
Mr Penge!
I'm sorry to be disturbing you.
I was wondering...
if there is a chance...
of maybe getting paid a little earlier this quarter?
Is this a joke, Miss Cleary?
Some Hibernian attempt at humour?
- No, sir. - Then I fail to understand the question.
I am the palace steward, not the Bank of England.
Mr Penge, I am begging you.
I'm afraid, Miss Cleary, that you, like so many of your compatriots,
must learn to live within your means.
'Dear Dr Traill, the Queen writes with respect of your letter
concerning the dreadful conditions in your parish.'
What is it, Robert?
'She has been most affected by your account of the suffering there.
Therefore, she would be most grateful
if you were to come to Buckingham Palace
so that you may furnish her with a first-hand account
of how the famine progresses.
And what may be done
to relieve the misfortunes of her... most unfortunate people.'
Is it a sweetheart?
Let me tell you, Miss Cleary, no man is worth it.
Did you hear about the potato plight, Mr Francatelli?
I know that you can't buy decent ones at the moment
for love nor money.
In Ireland, potatoes are money.
My family are smallholders.
Without potatoes they can't eat.
They can't pay the rent.
If they can't pay the rent they'll be evicted.
And then I don't know what'll happen to them.
I've sent them everything I have, Mr Francatelli.
Everything!
A lady friend gave this to me.
Don't take less than 50 for it.
It's pure gold.
I can't.
She said it made me look like a gentleman...
but I think I'd rather be judged by my actions
than my appearance.
You're a prince among men, Mr Francatelli.
A prince!
Oh... I'll settle for being someone
who's learnt how to do the right thing.
It's going to take years to repay you.
I don't want your money, Miss Cleary.
You are doing me a favour.
Dr Traill...
.. thank you for coming to the palace.
When I received your letter, ma'am,
I knew the Lord had been listening to me.
Please, do sit.
Won't you have something to eat?
I cannot eat, ma'am, my heart is too full.
I understand...
or rather, I hope you will help me to understand.
I have spent my life studying the Bible, ma'am...
.. but nothing has prepared me
for what I see every morning out of the window of the rectory.
Grown men, staggering as if drunk, but actually weak from starvation.
Old people who turn away what little nourishment they are offered
because they would rather die than be a burden to their families.
Babies screaming at their mother's breast because she has no milk. What is even more terrible,
is nothing is being done to help these poor creatures.
Do you know what I saw on the boat coming over here?
Bushels of grain on its way to England to be sold.
One of those sacks
would have fed the children in my parish for a week.
How can that be, ma'am?
I am only a parson, but I do not understand
how a country where famine is stalking the land
can send food abroad.
And I am the Queen...
.. and I, too, do not understand.
Albert, this is Dr Traill,
who has come to the palace at my request.
Oh, the gentleman who has been writing so eloquently
to the newspapers. Good day.
- Sir. - As I understand it, Dr Traill,
these shortages, they are endemic.
It's an inevitable result of relying too heavily on one crop.
I don't think you can blame the Irish for the potato blight, Albert.
I think, ma'am, I might have said something similar a few years ago.
I, too, believed the Catholics had only themselves to blame
for their misfortunes.
I thought if I could bring them to the Church of Ireland
they would learn to help themselves.
The truth is...
the reason the Catholic peasantry are starving
is because they have no legal right to the land they farm.
If they fall behind in their rent,
they are evicted without compensation
for any improvements they have made.
There's no wonder they live from season to season.
There is no reason for them to be prudent, sir.
So what is it we can do, Dr Traill?
Persuade your government to send sustenance, ma'am,
or the people of my parish will swell and ripen only for the grave.
Your Honour.
Dr Traill is the Queen's guest, Miss Cleary.
Cleary? Are you...?
Yes, sir. My family live in Skull.
Please can you give them this?
Tell them I will send more by Michaelmas.
It should be enough to pay the rent at least.
I will. I'm sure Father O'Connell will know where to find them.
I don't know what you mean, sir.
You mustn't be ashamed of who you are.
The Queen has given me money to help the people of Skull,
both Catholic and Protestant. It is your duty
to help her understand the country that she reigns over.
Miss Cleary.
But, ma'am, if the government provides food
we would be creating a country of dependents.
Why should a man struggle to earn his living
while his neighbour lives in idleness?
Thank you, Mr Trevelyan.
You may leave us.
I will not stand by while the Irish die of hunger!
I cannot have it on my conscience.
Sir Robert, remember Corinthians 13.
'And now abideth faith, hope, charity...
.. the greatest of these is charity.'
You must believe
that I have examined my own conscience most rigorously, ma'am.
Come with me, Sir Robert.
Come on!
Look at this child, Sir Robert.
Look at Alice.
Can you imagine what it must be like to be a mother in Dr Traill's parish,
who knows that she has no milk to give.
And the crying will grow weaker and weaker...
.. and weaker...
.. until one day it stops.
Charity begins at home, Sir Robert, it begins here in the nursery
and as a mother.
I will not let my people starve.
You want to turn this house into a soup kitchen?
What about the children?
There is fever in the village.
Robert, do you want to visit the plague on your own family?
No. I think you and the children should go to your mother's in Dublin.
You would banish me and the children from our home?
It is my sacred duty, Anne.
What about your duty to your family?
I cannot pass by on the other side, Anne.
I know...
.. but if I go to Dublin,
I will not return.
My place is here.
When I first met you, Sir Robert...
.. I confess, I did not find you congenial.
I remember, ma'am.
But since then, what I've come to understand...
.. you are a man of principle.
Well, I'm afraid that principles are a luxury in a Prime Minister.
If I follow my conscience...
.. I will destroy my party.
As a monarch I can only advise...
.. but as a mother...
.. I implore you, Sir Robert, listen to your conscience.
Men think mothers are great eiderdowns of comfort, but...
.. we are fierce.
I would do anything to protect my children.
When I first met you, ma'am...
.. I wondered whether such a young woman...
.. was capable of fulfilling the duties of a monarch.
But since that time...
.. I've come to appreciate your strength of purpose.
First impressions are misleading, Sir Robert.
Indeed they are, ma'am.
There must be no barriers to hygiene.
And that is why I have asked Mr Chadwick here
to install a water closet in the servants' quarters.
One day I hope that all households will have...
.. a throne of their own.
Please.
Thank you.
- Good day. - Thank you, sir.
Good day to all.
Where shall we begin?
First, we should discuss how to deal with the Queen's --
Excuse me, my lord.
We are to be joined by one more.
I have asked Father O'Connell to join us.
You'll never get to Dublin now, Traill.
Now, gentlemen...
.. what is to be done?
Your Majesty?
Forgive me, Your Majesty, for disturbing you,
but I was just wanting to say that you did a splendid thing
sending for Dr Traill.
- You know him? - I know of him, ma'am.
I come from Skull, where he is the rector.
But I am not of his church.
I wanted this position so badly.
I have no objection to Catholics in the household.
God bless you, ma'am.
Tell me...
.. how is your family?
Gone to America, ma'am.
I sent the money to pay the rent...
.. but it was too late, and they were evicted.
My father decided to emigrate.
They sail from Cork next week.
My mother says they'll write when they are settled, but...
.. America is so far away.
Miss Cleary!
I am sorry, Your Majesty, for the disturbance.
It's all right, Lehzen.
Thank you for confiding in me.
I did not know she was a Catholic when I offered her the position.
As if that matters.
Bless you.
God bless you.
Bless you.
Surely we must be ready for a famine,
whether it comes or not!
Are we to sit in cabinet and consider and calculate
how much dysentery and diarrhoea a people can take
before it becomes necessary for us to provide them with food?!
? Oh, Father dear,
? I oft times hear you talk of Erin's Isle
- ? Her lofty scene, her valleys green... - Thank you.
? Her mountains rude and wild
? They say it is a pretty place
? Wherein a prince might dwell
? So why did you abandon it?
? The reason, to me tell
? Son, you were only two years old
? And feeble was your frame
? I could not leave you with your friends
? You bore your father's name
? I wrapped you in my cota mor
? In the dirt of night unseen
? I heaved a sigh and said goodbye
? To dear old Skibbereen ?