Writer 1879: Solitary Journey in France

Chapter 566 Old Lady Must Die! (First Update)
December 15, 1882, 12 p.m., Windsor train station. The sky was gray, and the clouds hung low, as if it were about to snow.

The platform was bustling with activity—dozens of Eton College boys stood ramrod straight, dressed in dark blue swallowtail coats, white shirts, and striped trousers.

These students were specially selected by the school to represent the Queen in welcoming her back to Windsor.

Royal Guard soldiers stood around the platform, their red uniforms standing out against the gloomy weather.

They stood at attention with their guns drawn, their eyes scanning every corner of the platform warily.

A train whistle sounded in the distance, and the black smoke from the locomotive first appeared on the horizon, followed by the train itself.

Then the train slowly pulled into the platform, steam billowing out and hissing.

The carriage doors opened. First to disembark was the Queen's secretary, John Brown, followed by her maids and the accompanying noblewomen.

Finally, Queen Victoria, dressed in her finest attire, appeared at the carriage door, though she looked somewhat tired.

The journey from London to Windsor was only about twenty miles, but it felt exceptionally long to her—so many unpleasant things had happened in the past two months.

“Your Majesty.” John Brown reached out and helped her out of the car.

The Queen stepped onto the stone slabs of the platform and saw the Eton College students.

The students began to chant in unison, "God bless the Queen!" Their voices were clear and distinct.

The Queen nodded slightly, feeling a little relieved to see these young faces and hear such pure blessings.

Thank you, children.

The students were even more excited. They had all been rigorously selected, came from impeccable families, had excellent grades, and were absolutely loyal to the royal family, so they felt especially honored at this moment.

Supported by her maids, the Queen began to walk towards the platform exit, and the students automatically parted to make way for her.

Outside the exit, the streets of Windsor were cleared out, and a deep red, gilded four-wheeled carriage was waiting there, pulled by four pure black horses.

Just as she reached the carriage, the driver lowered the footboard, and a guard reached out to help her into the carriage—

A sharp "bang!" rang out on the quiet street.

The Queen paused for a moment, then turned her head to look in the direction of the sound—she thought it was a cannon salute or a steam pipe explosion.

But then, a second and a third sharp sound rang out in quick succession. This time she heard it clearly—it was gunfire, and it was very close.

The crowd instantly erupted into chaos. The Eton students, unaware of what was happening, had already instinctively begun to back away.

Major James Reynolds, the captain of the guard, roared, "Protect His Majesty!"

Four guards immediately formed a circle around the Queen, their rifles already raised.

More guards rushed toward the source of the gunfire—a three-story brick building across the street, with a second-floor window open and a gun barrel protruding from it.

"Upstairs!" someone shouted. But there was more than one attacker.

Three men suddenly rushed out from the street corner. They were all dressed in ordinary worker's clothes, wearing hats, and carrying revolvers and shotguns with their barrels sawed off.

"For Ireland!" one of the men shouted in heavily accented English. "Old Lady must die!"

They shouted and fired, bullets raining down on the carriage, making a clanging sound.

The Queen, protected by her guards, retreated to the back of the carriage; her hat was askew and her veil was pulled to one side.

In the chaos, a stray bullet flew by and grazed the Queen's forehead. The Queen felt a burning pain on her forehead, as if she had been scratched by a red-hot wire.

She reached out and touched something warm; looking down, she saw it was covered in blood. Blood streamed down her eyebrows, down her cheeks, and dripped onto her collar.

"Your Majesty!" Major James Reynolds' face turned pale instantly upon seeing the blood.

"I'm fine." The Queen's voice was surprisingly calm as she pressed a handkerchief against her wound to stop the bleeding.

The guards retaliated more fiercely, firing three or four rifles at the window in quick succession, shattering the glass and riddling the curtains with holes.

The three men on the street corner were still firing, but the guards had found cover, and the accuracy of their rifles far surpassed that of the pistols and shotguns in the guards' hands.

One of the attackers was shot; the bullet struck him in the chest, and he fell backward, dropping his gun to the ground.

Another attacker tried to run, but as soon as he turned, he was shot in the leg. He fell to the ground and was struck on the head with the butt of a rifle by the rushing guards, losing consciousness.

The third attacker ran out of bullets. Seeing the guards closing in, he knew he couldn't escape, so he threw down his gun, raised his hands, and shouted something in Irish.

Inside the building, the gun barrel protruding from the window was no longer moving. After a while, a man's body fell out of the window and crashed heavily onto the street.

He was still holding a gun, but he was already dead, with at least five or six bullet holes in his body.

The gunfire then stopped.

Four people were lying on the ground: three attackers and one guard. Two of the attackers were dead, and one was unconscious; the guard was still alive, but seriously injured.

The Queen had already taken refuge in the carriage. She was still pressing her handkerchief to her forehead; the bleeding had temporarily stopped, but the wound still stung painfully.

John Brown wanted the coachman to take the carriage to the hospital, but the Queen shook her head. She looked at the corpses on the ground and at the men in workers' clothes.

She looked again at the broken windows of the building across the street, then at the blood on her hands. Then she looked up towards the platform. The Eton students were still standing there, most of them stunned. They had witnessed the whole thing: shooting, bloodshed, death…

They saw the wound on the Queen's forehead and the blood on her face—the Queen bleeds too, and her blood is red.

The carriage door closed immediately. The coachman flicked the reins, and the four black horses reared up, pulling the carriage toward Windsor Castle.

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The news spread faster than a train; by evening, the news of Queen Victoria's assassination had swept through London, and then throughout Britain and Europe.

After hearing the news, Interior Secretary Winslop remained silent for a long time, then clicked his tongue and said, "A miracle really happened?"

The Times' special edition featured the headline in the largest lead type: "His Majesty Attacked! Horrific Assassination Attempt at Windsor!"

The article details the entire incident—the Eton students' welcome, the sudden shooting, the guards' counterattack, and the three deaths and one capture of the four attackers.

Of course, the abrasion on Her Majesty's forehead was also mentioned.

Despite the considerable bleeding from the wound, His Majesty displayed his usual courage and composure, returning to Windsor Castle after a simple bandage...

The Daily Telegraph was even more direct: "Irish terrorists attack the Queen! The Empire's dignity faces its most serious challenge yet!"

This is the most despicable and barbaric attack on the British Empire and its monarch! It must be met with the strongest response!

Other newspapers echoed similar sentiments. Conservative newspapers called for a tough stance, while Liberal newspapers, while condemning the actions, also reminded the public to "handle the matter according to the law."

But everyone agrees on one point—this is an unprecedentedly serious event.

Over the past few decades, Irish independence groups have indeed planned numerous attacks. They have bombed government buildings, assassinated officials, and even attempted to carry out bombings in London.

But they never directly targeted members of the royal family, let alone the Queen herself.

Now, that line has been crossed, and the name "OLD LADY" has been used.

Buckingham Palace released a brief statement that evening:
Her Majesty is unharmed and suffered only minor injuries. She thanked all those who cared for her and appealed to all her subjects to remain calm, expressing her confidence that the Cabinet would handle the matter appropriately.

At 10 Downing Street, Prime Minister Gladstone immediately convened an emergency cabinet meeting, but the meeting lasted until the early hours of the morning without any substantial conclusions.

Everyone knew what to do, but no one dared to make a decision on how to do it or to what extent. The cabinet also split into two factions at the meeting.

One faction, represented by the Secretary of the Army, advocated immediately strengthening the troop presence in Northern Ireland, imposing martial law in Dublin, and arresting all Irish nationalists.

Another faction, represented by Foreign Secretary Granville, believes that "caution should be exercised" to avoid escalating the conflict.

Prime Minister Gladstone listened to the argument from both sides and felt a deep weariness.

He wasn't unaware of the Irish issue. Having been in politics for decades, he had witnessed firsthand the gradual accumulation and deterioration of tensions on the island.

He tried reform, he tried compromise, but each effort seemed to make things worse.

And now, Queen Victoria has been assassinated.

Regardless of his personal grievances against the Queen, or what role he believed the monarchy should play in politics, the assassination of the Queen was a fundamental challenge to British constitutionalism.

What's more troublesome is that this matter is closely related to Lionel Sorel. He had just been assassinated, and now the Queen has also been assassinated—what a coincidence!

Although the French writer was lying in the hospital, the attackers who assassinated the queen shouted the word "OLD LADY".

Everyone remembers the line from 1984, "Old Lady is watching you." Everyone knows who that line refers to.

Public opinion has automatically linked the two events together. A commentary in the Manchester Guardian put it most bluntly:

After the publication of "OLD LADY" in 1984, Queen Victoria's image was transformed from that of a benevolent monarch into a symbol of oppression.

This undoubtedly aroused hatred towards her among some extremists, something Mr. Sorel probably never imagined his work would have such consequences.

But the fact is, his pen indirectly contributed to this attack.

Gladstone knew that although the focus of public opinion had shifted, it was not the kind of "shift" he had hoped for.

Back in his office, he silently opened his drawer and glanced at the resignation letter he had prepared for a long time…

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St. Thomas Hospital, surgical ward. Lionel is now able to get out of bed.

With Dr. Joseph Lister's permission, he was allowed to walk slowly in his ward for a few minutes each day, with the help of a nurse or Sophie.

The wound on my left leg is healing well, with no signs of infection. The pain is still there, especially when walking; every step feels like being pricked with needles.

Two days had passed since the Queen's assassination. Lionel had seen the news in the newspapers, and Zola and Maupassant had told him the details when they visited him.

After the Queen's assassination, Scotland Yard doubled the number of police officers sent to protect him, and no unauthorized persons were allowed to contact Lionel.

But a very powerful person still managed to enter the ward and bring Lionel a gift.

(End of this chapter)