Louis Philippe's move truly disgusted the British. Not long ago, considering their relations with the French Second Empire, Britain had not intended to invite the House of Orléans to participate.
Yet Louis Philippe had wept and clamored to attend the Great Exhibition, while Guizot had shown considerable sincerity. Only then had Commissioner Smith placed the Duchy of Alsace-Lorraine on the invitation list.
That led to today's scene. John Russell had already killed Louis Philippe a thousand times in his heart. He had never imagined that anyone in this world could be so utterly shameless.
Most crucially, the Duchy of Alsace-Lorraine had received almost no awards—only a few dispensable consolation prizes—yet Louis Philippe had kicked up such a storm, even planning to pay for newspaper notices, as if they had suffered some immense injustice.
Such behavior was simply intolerable. Yet the Duchy of Alsace-Lorraine had virtually no dealings of interest with Britain, leaving John Russell with a bellyful of resentment and nowhere to vent it.
But his misfortune did not end there. Since Danish Prime Minister Lamont had called in sick, Frederick VII had no choice but to find someone else to take the blame.
Unfortunately, not a single senior member of the Danish government was willing to carry the can. Watching a group of Danes who spoke Danish and carried banners written in Danish pose as German nationalists while wandering the streets all day, Frederick VII was utterly dumbfounded.
Frederick VII drew the curtains and said, "I suspect those wretches are making a fool of me."
The senior officials of the Danish government all fell silent. They truly did not know how to describe this monarch, much less how to answer his question.
"Which one of you has a way to drive these troublesome fellows back into their homes?"
Still