The Captive of Kensington Palace (34 page)

The Archbishop of Canterbury was very stern and after the ceremony he read aloud a warning to Victoria. Her life he said would be burdened by the most serious responsibilities. She must fulfil a destiny which would leave little time for pleasure.

He thundered on, warming to his subject; he was, thought Victoria, like a fearsome avenging angel. She was going to face great conflicts; her spiritual as well as her temporal life would be threatened. She would find her life no bed of roses … It sounded formidable, a future of misery.

She was trembling with horror at the prospect of it. Oh dear, she thought, if only Aunt Adelaide had had a child it would be different; I should have a pleasant happy confirmation, the sort that George Cambridge will doubtless have. As it was the future loomed before her, dark, gloomy, full of terrors. Her eyes had filled with tears and she had begun to weep.

Mamma at her side pressed her hand firmly, and she felt suddenly drawn to her and wanted to turn and fling her arms about that flamboyant figure and cry out: ‘Don’t let me be Queen. Let them choose someone else.’

Seeing the effect his address had had the Archbishop was satisfied and stopped as the King was looking impatient and was obviously about to tell him to bring his diatribe to an end.

‘Well,’ William said, ‘that’s done with.’ And he took Victoria into the closet with the Queen and the Duchess following.

He pressed her hand. ‘Priests!’ he said. ‘Don’t want to let them frighten you. Lot of
stuff
. You come and see what I’ve got for you. A nice present for a nice little girl.’

‘Oh, Uncle William,’ sobbed Victoria. ‘You
are
so kind.’

That pleased him and in the closet he took up a set of jewellery; the emeralds glittered through her tears and she cried out that they were lovely.

‘There, there, and you’ll look very pretty in them. The Queen has something for you too.’

The Queen’s present was a tiara of matching emeralds.

‘Dear kind Uncle William and Aunt Adelaide!’

Aunt Adelaide whispered that these ceremonies were very tiring and Victoria must not become too affected by them. If she was kind and good that was all she had to worry about, because everything would come right then; and she knew Victoria
was
kind and good, so it was not going to be so very difficult.

Victoria drove back to Kensington with the Duchess and wept a little on the latter’s shoulder.

‘You must learn to be a little more humble,’ said the Duchess. ‘You must listen and take advice, because now you are getting older you will most certainly have your duties. The Archbishop was trying to frighten you, but there is no need to be frightened because you have your mother beside you.’

And for once there was some comfort in that.

Back at the Palace the Duchess had a present for her daughter. A bracelet containing a lock of her hair.

‘Something very special to remind you of me,’ she said.

‘I shall always remember this day, Mamma, when I look at this bracelet.’

That was not the end of the excitement of that day. During the afternoon a messenger arrived from Langenberg.

The Duchess seized on the letters avidly and calling to Victoria cried: ‘Feodora has a little daughter. They are both well.’

‘Oh, what a happy day after all!’ cried Victoria.

She was enchanted at the thought of having another niece; and the baby was to have her name too – Adelaide, Victoria, Mary, Louisa, Constance.

She could not be called Victoria, of course. That would be a little confusing. She would be known as Adelaide – a rather pleasant compliment to the Queen.

Victoria was wildly excited. It was the happiest of days because she had heard that Uncle Leopold was to pay a visit to England with his wife Aunt Louise, of whom Victoria had heard much and never seen.

Uncle Leopold could scarcely wait to clasp his darling Victoria in his arms and Victoria could scarcely wait to be clasped. For so many years they had been in touch only through letters, but their affection, they were often declaring to each other, had never waned. Leopold’s letters had been full of advice for the future Queen of England, and again and again he expressed the hope that she would never cease to consult him. Hers had been full of gratitude and professions of her enduring love.

‘And now the prospect of
seeing
him, Lehzen, makes me so happy that I can scarcely
bear
it.’

‘You must not get too excited,’ warned Lehzen. ‘We have to make the journey to Ramsgate, don’t forget, and you wouldn’t want to be upset and not ready to greet them.’

‘I will try not to get over-excited and think about the happiness which will be mine when I see my dearest Uncle.’

A few days later the Duchess’s party left Kensington for the leisurely journey to Ramsgate. Victoria was delighted to be in
dear
Tunbridge Wells which she had always enjoyed, but of course all the time she was eager to get on to Ramsgate for the arrival of Leopold and his wife.

They had taken a house overlooking the sea. It was small and unpretentious and the Duchess was angry because the King would not allow her to fly the Royal Standard. Victoria tried to soothe her mother.

‘The King is right, I think, Mamma, because after all I am not the Queen.’

The Duchess was so startled that Victoria should disagree with her that she had no words ready to reply and Victoria went on: ‘He hates what he calls my Royal Progresses and I do understand, because it makes it seem as though he is dead already and the last thing I want is Uncle William to die. He is always kind and it would upset dear Aunt Adelaide so.’

‘You talk like a child,’ said the Duchess angrily.

‘Well, Mamma, you often tell me that I am one. But I do not think Uncle William was pleased with our last trip to the North.’

‘He is jealous … jealous of your youth and your popularity with the people. You must not allow yourself to be influenced by jealousy. You heard what the Archbishop said. You have a very difficult road ahead and if you are going to allow yourself to behave without dignity because of the jealousy of some people I can see you are soon going to be in trouble. You must be ambitious … in the most honourable way of course. And you must not give way.’

But for all the Duchess’s talk she dared not flout the King’s authority and the Royal Standard was not flown over the house.

Such petty troubles, however, were forgotten with the arrival of Uncle Leopold and his wife. The streets of Ramsgate were decorated to greet him and Victoria received the usual acclaim in the streets.

‘What an enchanting sight!’ cried Victoria to Lehzen. ‘All the flowers and the flags … and to know that they are for dear Uncle Leopold, and the people are so glad to see him. And the sea looks so beautifully blue. I have always loved Ramsgate but I shall love it doubly now.’

The Duchess said that they would see the arrival of the steamer better from the Albion Hotel than from the house and as it was so close she had not ordered the carriages; they would walk.

So accompanied by the Duchess, Lehzen, Lady Conroy and Lady Flora Hastings, Victoria set out for the hotel; and as they reached it she could see the steamer in the distance. Victoria found it difficult to control her impatience.

What excitement to sit at the window and wait for the steamer to arrive. Victoria saw it clearly, with the Belgian flag flying from its mast.

‘You must control your excitement, Victoria,’ said the Duchess sternly; but she was not really displeased; she liked Victoria to show appreciation of her Coburg relations of whom Uncle Leopold was the most important.

‘I am trying, Mamma,’ replied Victoria. ‘But it is so long since I have seen him.’

‘Four years,’ said the Duchess.

‘Four years and two months,’ Victoria corrected her; and on that occasion the Duchess merely smiled to be corrected.

How the people were cheering! How pleasant it was to know that they appreciated Uncle Leopold! And so they should, for he had lived for a very long time in England and when he had married Princess Charlotte he had been very popular.

Then she remembered that he had a wife. She only hoped the new Aunt Louise was worthy of him. Perhaps that was expecting the impossible, but she did believe that Aunt Louise was a very good wife and that Uncle Leopold could not have done better.

The steamer had now entered the harbour and the cheers were deafening. Soon now she would be face to face with him.

‘I cannot
bear
it if he has changed,’ she whispered to Lehzen.

There followed a quarter of an hour of acute suspense and one of the waiters came in and bowing to the Duchess said: ‘Your Grace, their Majesties are almost here.’

They rose hastily to be at the door to greet them; and at last there was Uncle Leopold arm in arm with a very lovely lady whom Victoria knew at once was her Aunt Louise.

His eyes were searching for someone among the party. She knew who that was.

‘Uncle Leopold!’

‘My dearest love!’

They embraced; they looked at each other. ‘Oh,’ cried Victoria, ‘you have not changed at all except to become more handsome.’

That pleased Leopold. He brought his Queen forward.

‘You two must love each other.’

‘We do already,’ cried Victoria impulsively. ‘Oh, Uncle Leopold, dearest of all uncles, how happy I am to see you again.’

The Duchess would not allow Victoria to monopolise the scene.
She
must be the centre and for a while she was; but Victoria found Uncle Leopold’s eyes coming back to her; she told Lehzen afterwards that she read
volumes
of love there which made her very
very
happy; and the years of separation were forgotten in this wonderful reunion.

Later there was time to make the acquaintance of Aunt Louise who was determined to charm Victoria since she was so important to Leopold.

Victoria was thinking of what pleasure she would have describing this scene in her Journal.

Aunt Louise had a slim and pretty figure and lovely fair hair; her nose was a little aquiline and her eyes a beautiful shade of blue. She wore a light-brown silk dress with a sky-blue bonnet and possessed that simple elegance which was to be expected of a Frenchwoman and the daughter of Louis Philippe. She was very pretty and what was even more important far from formidable. She seemed young and Victoria felt that she had lots of high spirits which were longing to bubble over, and if they could meet at a less ceremonious time they might do so for Victoria.

What an exciting meeting! On the way back to the house she chattered all the time to Lehzen about the charms of Uncle Leopold and his wife.

Uncle Leopold’s visit was, alas, of short duration; but he was frequently in Victoria’s company and contrived that they should be alone. What joy to go hand in hand along by the sea with Uncle Leopold; there they could not be interrupted so easily as when they were in the house.

‘My love,’ he said to her when they were alone, on one of these occasions, ‘when I left, you were but a little girl. Now you are grown up. In two years’ time you will be of age.’

‘Yes, Uncle, it sobers me to think of it.’

‘It is right that it should, for great responsibilities rest on the shoulders of Sovereigns.’

‘You must tell me how I can be a good Queen.’

‘I shall. I have made a study of royalty. Your cousin Ferdinand is betrothed to the Queen of Portugal and I have given him plenty of advice. You will meet him and his brother Augustus shortly, I hope. I want you to know your cousins.’

‘I
loved
Ernest and Alexander Württemberg.’

‘Very good boys. I shall be interested to hear what you feel about Ferdinand and his brother Augustus. But I particularly want you to like your cousins Ernest and Albert.’

‘What lots of boy cousins I have. There are the Georges on Papa’s side too.’

‘Ah yes, but you will find your German cousins much more mature. My darling,
I
wish you to like them better than you do Cambridge and Cumberland.’

‘Then I am sure I shall … if only to please you.’

‘No, no, it must be to please yourself.’