Victoria Victorious: The Story of Queen Victoria (46 page)

“I am happy to know that Your Majesty realizes the good points of your present Prime Minister.”

“I was very young and inexperienced. I am sorry I spoke of him as I
did. He is a very dear man … so feeling, really—although he cannot always show it.”

“No longer the dancing master?” said Lord M, who could never resist a joke.

“He has given up that profession,” I replied with a laugh.

“And the silver ornaments on the coffin?”

“I don't notice them. I do know that he is a dear, good, clever man, and that he is determined to do what is best for the country and for me… and even though you and he might not agree on the first, you would, I am sure, on the second.”

“That is true. And what I came to talk to Your Majesty about is this affair of the Cambridges. Your Majesty cannot afford another Hastings scandal just now.”

“Oh no… no!” I cried.

“It would not be so easy to extricate yourself now as it was then … and even then it was a difficult time, was it not?”

I nodded.

“I shall never never forget how the people turned against me so quickly.” “It is the way of the mob. The Duchess of Cambridge is incensed. She is involving the Press. You must take the utmost care, for this could explode into another scandal. You will know there are riots in various parts of the country. There is unemployment. Peel will have kept you informed about this.”

I nodded.

“He would. It is nothing much. These things happen.”

I looked at his dear face and I thought, Sir Robert doesn't think it's nothing much. Sir Robert says these things must not happen if we can help it.

There was a great difference in the two men but they were united in their care for me.

“There is one thing which should be done without delay,” went on Lord M. “An apology must be sent to the Duchess.”

“An apology! From me!”

“Let it come from the Prince. He seems to be the target for their enmity. But it must be done swiftly before this blows up into something very like the Hastings affair. Moreover, that will be revived if this goes much further. That would be unwise and very difficult for Your Majesty.”

“I will tell Albert.”

“He will not wish to humiliate himself naturally, but Your Majesty
will impress on him that, having had experience of what a scandal like this could turn out to be, you are aware of the danger to your standing with the people—and you are sure this must be done.”

“I do understand. You are my very dear friend and I will talk to Albert immediately.”

As Lord Melbourne had said, Albert was very reluctant to apologize; but I did manage to impress on him the importance of this. I recalled the terrible days when I had suffered so much from the Flora Hastings matter and that even now I occasionally had nightmares about it.

“There were placards in the streets, Albert,” I said. “On them was ‘Murder at Buckingham Palace.' I shall never,
never
forget; and it must not happen again.”

At last Albert was prevailed upon and he made an apology to the Duchess. It was ungraciously given and curtly received. The matter was allowed to drop, but the Cambridges continued to show their enmity to Albert; and they made it clear that they did not consider his rank as high as their own.

But at least—thanks to Lord Melbourne, who in such matters was far more knowledgeable than Sir Robert Peel—we had passed safely through danger.

S
EPTEMBER WAS ALMOST
upon us.

It was the time, said Albert, for a little holiday. He had revised the nursery and there had been no protests from Lehzen. September was the month she was due to leave. Albert had sent off all the nurses who had worked with Lehzen and had replaced them.

Vicky, to our delight, was now thriving and becoming very amusing. Albert was enchanted by her and I was glad to see that she had a very special feeling for him, calling to him whenever he came into the nursery, running to him and catching hold of his legs. He would lift her in his arms, and I even saw her riding on his back while he pretended to be a grisly bear or a fierce tiger, rousing her to shrieks of terrified delight.

What a happy scene that was! The Boy was growing well, but of course was younger and therefore not so interesting.

I should be glad to have a holiday. It was really rather a strain to be with Lehzen and to know that she would soon be gone.

She was sad, in a resigned sort of way. She made no criticism of Albert now, and it really did seem as though she were looking forward without
too much sorrow to her new life, but that quiet melancholy air did distress me.

I was sure her sister would be glad to have her and the children would love her. I remembered so vividly how it used to be between us and how she had thrown herself wholeheartedly into all my childish pleasures.

So it would be delightful to get away for a few short days of holiday alone with Albert.

I thought we should go to Claremont as we often did at these times, but Albert had other ideas.

“I have always wanted to go to Scotland,” he said.

“Scotland! It seems so far away.”

“After all,” said Albert, “it is part of your kingdom. You should put in an appearance now and then. The people expect it.”

So we made plans to visit Scotland.

How glad I was that we did!

It was late August when we left Windsor at five o'clock in the morning, and we reached London in three quarters of an hour and were at Woolwich before seven. People had heard that we should be there and quite a crowd had gathered to see us get into the barge. The Duke of Cambridge; Lord Jersey, as Master of Horse; Lord Haddington, First Lord of the Admiralty; Lord Bloomfield, Colonel Commandant of the Royal Regiment of Artillery; and Sir George Cockburn, Senior Naval Lord, were present as it seemed quite a State occasion. Unfortunately it was raining and we had to go straight to the sitting room. Then we set off, the Trinity House steamer and packet forming our squadron; we were followed by several little pleasure steamboats, their occupants eager to catch a glimpse of us.

It was three days later before we caught sight of the Scottish coast. The Scots gave us a wonderful welcome with bonfires all along the shore.

It was the first of September before we reached our destination, and when we arrived we could not see Edinburgh, because it was shrouded in dim fog. It was a great pleasure to be greeted at the pier by the Duke of Buccleuch and Sir Robert Peel, the latter having made the journey to Scotland to be there on our arrival.

I was enchanted by Edinburgh—quite beautiful and unlike any other city—everything of stone and no bricks at all—and the main street steep, and the castle on the rock right in the middle of the city.

I loved Scotland—partly because Albert was so delighted with it. I
thought the people attractive. Quite a number of the girls had long red hair that they wore flowing down their backs. I thought it enchanting. I ate porridge, which I found very good, and I tried another of their Scottish dishes called Finnan Haddies.

What happy days they were, discovering Scotland. I was fascinated by the most unusual dress of the people—the kilts and the tartans; and I soon grew accustomed to the sound of bagpipes. I thought them most romantic.

We traveled extensively and were warmly welcomed everywhere. I was sorry the holiday was coming to an end but I longed to see the children. I did miss them and although I had heard from Lady Lyttelton, who had now been appointed royal governess, that they were well and happy, I thought about them a great deal.

I believe Albert was more than a little sorry when it was time to sail southwards. He stood on deck watching the coastline of Scotland fade away.

His comment was, “An enchanting country. We must visit the Highlands again soon.”

And I agreed most enthusiastically.

I
WAS VERY
sad for the time had come when Lehzen was to leave us.

Albert watched me anxiously. I was sure that, right up to the last minute, he was afraid I would find some excuse for her to stay. I was tempted to do so. One cannot easily dismiss more than twenty years of devotion; but I knew in my heart that it was a choice between Lehzen and Albert—and it had to be Albert.

Moreover, since it had been agreed that Lehzen would depart, Albert and I had been so much happier together. There had been scarcely any disagreement. We were growing closer. During the holiday in Scotland everything had been perfect.

My life lay with Albert.

Lehzen knew this and that was why she was going. But the sadness was like a heavy cloud which hung over the household.

Our last day together! We were both aware of it and the slightest thing would have set me crying and I should have been clinging to her telling her she must not go. Lehzen herself was wonderful. She knew it was better for me to turn to Albert. He was a fellow German and she understood
him. I believe she would have admired him if she had not been so jealous of him. Lehzen loved me truly… just as Lord Melbourne did. And love is selfless. I had learned that.

When I said goodbye to her she said, “This is the last time. I shall not see you in the morning before I go. Partings are so sad. There is no need to prolong the unhappiness. My dearest one, take care of yourself. You will write to me and I shall write to you. I shall follow your life in all you do. I know you will be happy because you will make those around you happy. You are a dear good girl, and I am proud of you.”

She held me in her arms for the last time, and I went to my bedroom and wept.

In the morning she left.

There was no doubt of Albert's pleasure; but he did understand my feelings and was most kind and sympathetic.

Then I stopped to brood for I discovered that I was once more pregnant.

I
N
A
PRIL OF THE FOLLOWING YEAR MY LITTLE DAUGHTER WAS
born. This was a much easier pregnancy and birth than the others, and I wondered whether one became accustomed to that. That was a happy thought because I seemed to be the sort of woman who would be excessively fertile. In three years I had managed to have as many children.

She was to be Alice Maud, and as she had been born on the Duchess of Gloucester's birthday, she was to be Mary also—after her.

Everything had gone so much more smoothly after Lehzen's departure. Albert had had a thorough examination of the household and had made some astounding economies. I knew that lots of the servants did not like it, for life must have been very easy for them under Lehzen's rule. They grumbled among themselves, I knew. Poor Albert, he was very unpopular with them, but that is often the reward of doing what is right.

For Alice's christening we had to invite Uncle Ernest, although I did so with the utmost reluctance. He was still the bogeyman of my childhood, and I could never feel perfectly at ease when he was in the country. He seemed to be in a state of constant resentment because he had not inherited the crown of England.
I
did not begrudge
him
that of Hanover. So why could he not be content now that he was a king? There was conflict between us now because he was claiming Princess Charlotte's jewels. I wore them often for I really had very few of my own—for a queen; and I saw no reason why he should have them, so I refused to give them up. But I thought he might feel a little reconciled if he were asked to act as sponsor for the baby.

My dear sister Feodore was to be another and the apprehension at the prospect of seeing Uncle Ernest was forgotten in the joyous one of having Feodore with me. Albert's brother, Ernest, and Aunt Sophia were to be the other two.

Feodore and I hugged each other; we kissed and studied our faces,
entwining our arms as I took her to her room where I sat on the bed and we talked and talked.

“You…my little sister…a mother of three!” she said. “I cannot believe it. I shall never forget the sight of you with your dolls. Live dolls are different, are they not?”

How easy it was to talk to darling Feodore. I was able to tell her of the anguish over Lehzen. She listened and what was so wonderful, she understood.

“I know Lehzen well,” she said. “A wonderful woman…but possessive, and it was only natural that she and Albert should resent each other. Your life, dearest sister, is with Albert … him and the children. It is your family which matters most.”

She loved the new baby who was plump and contented.

“She is a wonderful baby,” I said. “Quieter than the other two. I think she will be a great comfort to me.”

“Vicky is very bright.”

“Indeed, yes. Albert is so pleased with her. I wish Bertie was different. I think he is going to be rather lazy. He just mumbles to himself, shouts, and runs all over the place.”

Feodore laughed. “Bertie is adorable. He is a normal boy. They are the best sort to have.”

“There speaks the wise mother.”

I looked at her lovingly. That lovely willowy figure she had had was no more, for she had grown rather plump; but Feodore would always be beautiful because of her lovely expression. Her face was illuminated by an inner goodness.

She was in complete contrast to Uncle Ernest who radiated malevolence.

He arrived late and after the christening ceremony was over. I wondered whether he did it on purpose. He looked even more evil if less physically able to carry out any wicked intentions. He was rather bent and bald and obviously hard of hearing. Alice behaved perfectly during the ceremony; and everyone said what a lovely child she was.

I had some uneasy moments afterward in the nursery when Uncle Ernest asked to see the children, which I thought rather an odd request, coming from him, for I was sure he was not really interested in them.

Vicky came running up with her usual lack of self-consciousness.

“Where is your eye?” she demanded.

“Lost in action,” replied Uncle Ernest shortly.

“Did someone take it?”

“Yes,” he said.

“Why?”

Albert came forward and laid a restraining hand on Vicky's shoulder. I saw him smile; he thought anything Vicky did was very clever and amusing.

The King of Hanover had turned away. “And where is the boy?” he said.

Bertie came forward. He said nothing and I was aware of Albert's frown. Bertie was such a disappointment to him, which was largely due to Vicky's brightness; they made such a contrast. I was always reminding Albert that Bertie was a year younger than Vicky.

I felt a tremor of alarm when Uncle Ernest picked up Bertie and held him at eye level, studying him intently with his one eye. I imagined he would be thinking that this young boy would in all probability be King of England, a title for which Uncle Ernest had lusted all his life.

I glanced at Albert and saw that his thoughts were the same as mine. I felt that everyone in the nursery was waiting for something to happen. It was a most uneasy moment.

Bertie, however, was unperturbed. He stared at the King's empty eye socket with the utmost fascination.

“Looks a healthy little fellow,” said Uncle Ernest.

“He is,” I told him. “He takes after his father.”

“Can't see it,” said Uncle Ernest. “More like our side.”

Vicky was looking up at him in a rather impatient way because Bertie was getting more attention than she was, which was most unusual.

“I'm not just Vicky,” she said. “I am the Princess Royal.”

But Uncle Ernest continued to look at Bertie, and it seemed a long time before he set him down.

I talked to Albert about the incident when we were alone.

“He really alarmed me,” he said, “when he took Bertie up and displayed such an interest in him. He quite ignored Vicky and was not in the least interested in the baby—although he had asked to see the nurseries.”

Albert thought that the only reason he could have been more interested in Bertie than in Vicky was because the boy was heir to the throne, for if he had a general interest in the children, Vicky would surely have been the target for his attention.

It was very sad having to say goodbye to Feodore, but the visit had necessarily to be brief, for Feodore had many duties in her own home.

“We must meet again soon,” I said.

“Why should you not come to us?” asked Feodore. “How I should love to show you my children.”

“We might well do that,” I replied. “We did go to Scotland recently… Albert and I without the children. It was one of the happiest times of my life.”

“Then there is hope,” said Feodore.

People remembered Uncle Ernest's reputation and the rumors he had set in progress about me when I was a child; and we had one or two letters telling of a plot to kidnap the children. Sir Robert Peel took these letters seriously, although they did appear to have been written by mad people. We even had some letters from people who went so far as to say that they proposed to kidnap the children.

All this came out of Uncle Ernest's visit. I wished that I had not invited him to the christening.

We were all a little shaken and very watchful. Albert made the rounds of the nurseries each night himself, for he would trust no one else.

“Remember the boy Jones who paid us a visit,” he said. “He was innocent. Some might not be.”

How glad I was to have Albert to take care of such things.

Mama, whose main interest in life now was the children, was in a state of great anxiety about them. She told Albert of the agonies she had suffered during my childhood when she had feared that wicked Cumberland—as he was then—was plotting to have me poisoned; and how she had watched over me day and night.

“You and Lehzen never left me alone,” I said.

“Oh yes…Lehzen was trustworthy in that respect.”

Mama smiled complacently. Lehzen's influence was now removed and there was dear Albert. Mama doted on Albert. I supposed that was understandable. It was through him that we had become reconciled.

About a week after the christening, Princess Augusta of Cambridge was married to the Grand Duke of Mecklenburg-Strelitz; and there again Uncle Ernest showed he had not lost one bit of his ambition. At the altar steps he tried to step in front of Albert, but Albert would not allow that. He forced himself in front to his rightful position and Uncle Ernest almost fell off the altar steps. I smiled to myself. It was what he deserved. And I was ready for him when the time came to sign the register and he
maneuvered himself into a position beside me so that when I had signed he could snatch the pen from me and sign next. In that case his signature would be above that of Albert. But I was too quick for him. I was not going to allow him to sign before Albert. Nor did I want a scene. There were several people standing at the table and in spite of the fact that I was in a dress with a train, which was by no means light, I slipped around to the other side of the table, so that I was immediately beside Albert. I took the pen, signed my name, and quickly handed it to Albert before Uncle Ernest could get around the table and snatch the pen from him.

How Albert and I laughed about it afterward! I was very relieved when Uncle Ernest left.

A
VERY PLEASANT
time followed. I was often in the nursery, discovering quite maternal instincts I had not known I possessed. But I do not think I was a very motherly woman. The little babies did not greatly interest me; it was only when they talked and were amusing and looked pretty that I wanted to spend a lot of time with them. Alice was a dear baby though. Such a good child! She was so fat that we called her Fatima. She had a contented smile and would lie gurgling and laughing to herself in her cradle. The nurses loved her.

Lady Lyttelton said that Alice adored Bertie and laughed with pleasure every time he came near her. He was very gentle with her, she added, and loved her dearly. I fancied that Bertie was Lady Lyttelton's favorite because she was always making excuses for his backwardness.

I had mentioned this to Albert and his comment was, “I hope that she does not spoil the child. We must watch that.”

I hoped so too, for Lady Lyttelton was so good with the children and they were all extremely fond of her.

Sir Robert Peel was rather anxious about our relationship with France and he thought we ought to try for a
rapprochement
.

Our new yacht, the
Victoria and Albert
, was now ready, and as the country's affairs were quieter than they had been for some time, Sir Robert thought it would be a good idea if we took a trip to France to stay with Louis Philippe. I thought it was an excellent proposition; it would mean another holiday with Albert all to myself, for he was getting so involved in politics that I did not see so much of him as I should have liked.

After the Prorogation of Parliament we set out in the yacht. First we
cruised round the Devon coast and then crossed to France. The King of France came by barge to meet the yacht, and the shore was lined with people who displayed banners and shouted, “Vive la Reine,” which was very gratifying.

There was a delightful surprise waiting for me. Aunt Louise, Uncle Leopold's wife, who was also the daughter of Louis Philippe, had joined her father's Court in order to help to entertain us.

What a joyous reunion that was, and how we laughed together and recalled those times when she had shown me her beautiful clothes and how I had tried them on and she had advised me about styles and colors.

I always grew sentimental looking back on the old days. Albert said I saw them through a rosy glow. He didn't really believe I could have been so happy with that old dragon Lehzen always with me. There were some things which even Albert did not know.

We were with the King for five days; he took us about the country and there was a
fête champêtre
. Then we saw some plays which I loved— particularly the comedies at which I laughed heartily.

After we said goodbye to the King of France we took the Prince de Joinville to sea with us and we called at Brighton and stayed at the Pavilion, which amazed the Prince. He had never seen a palace like it, he said. I did not tell him that neither had we!

Then we went back to stay with Uncle Leopold for a short visit, Aunt Louise having left France and joined her husband so that she would be there ready to entertain us in Uncle Leopold's palace as she had in her father's.

Uncle Leopold was overjoyed to see us.

“My dear children!” he cried. “My two favorites! I am so glad I brought you together. What happiness that has given us all.”

Aunt Louise introduced us to her children. Albert was rather taken with Charlotte—perhaps because she was about the same age as his beloved Vicky.

So on that occasion Aunt Louise and I talked of children instead of fashions; and I was so happy to be with those dear people again.

All too soon it was over and we were back at Windsor.

Sir Robert said the visit had been a very useful one.