Victoria Victorious: The Story of Queen Victoria (5 page)

I looked at him steadily—his pink cheeks and his lovely curls and his wrinkled, pouchy eyes—and I loved him because he was so kind to me and made me feel that I could be myself and not have to be the little girl Mama wished me to be.

I said, “‘God save the King.' That is a very good song.”

He gave me that strange look again and said, “Yes, I do indeed think you are a very nice little girl. Thank you. I will tell the band that you wish to make a request.”

Then he said loudly, “The Princess Victoria is going to ask the band to play something of her choice. Now, my dear.”

I stood up and said very loudly and clearly, “Please play ‘God Save the King.' ”

People clapped. Everyone was smiling. I heard someone whisper, “She is a little diplomat already.” And I wondered what they meant.

And then the band was playing and everyone except the King stood up; and I felt very pleased and wondered whether Mama would say I had made the right choice.

The King evidently thought so for he suddenly took my hand and pressed it in a way to imply that we were very good friends indeed.

The next day there was a visit to the zoo which the King had established at Sandpit Gate.

It was a very exciting day and one of the reasons why it was so enjoyable was that Mama did not come. She had not been invited to join the party and I fancied that the King knew I should be glad to escape from her critical eyes. I was very perceptive in some ways and I had quickly gathered that although he liked me—and Feodore perhaps even more— he disliked Mama and he was of such a nature—as were all his brothers— to let her know it if the opportunity arose.

So it was a most exciting day looking at the strange animals—zebras, gazelles, and such as I had never seen before.

When I was united with Mama I had to answer endless questions. Who had been there? What had been said? It went on and on but I was still living in that delightful memory of having had such a wonderful day without being watched all the time.

The day after that Mama and I, with Lehzen, were walking toward Virginia Water when we heard the sound of wheels on the road. Mama took my hand and drew me to the side of the road and we waited while a very splendid phaeton came toward us. I had never seen a carriage driven so fast, but as it approached it drew up.

Seated there, with my Aunt Mary, was the King.

He stopped and said it was a fine day. Then he looked at me and gave me that amused smile.

“Pop her in,” he said, and a postilion in silver and blue livery leaped down and put me into the phaeton between the King and Aunt Mary.

“Drive on,” cried the King; and we drove off leaving Mama and Lehzen standing on the side of the road, looking not only angry but rather frightened. I do believe Mama thought the King was kidnapping me. The King was laughing. I think he was rather pleased to see Mama's dismay.

I was a little disturbed but I quickly forgot it because it was so exhilarating driving along in the phaeton at a greater speed than I had ever known before.

“How do you like this?” cried the King, taking my hand in his.

“It is lovely,” I shouted. I suddenly realized that I could shout as much as I liked and I could do and say just what came into my head. In addition to this wonderful ride I was free of Mama's supervision.

The King talked to me all the time and Aunt Mary now and then said something, and she was smiling as though she liked me very much.

The King asked me questions and I told him I loved riding on my dear pony Rosy. She could really go very fast when she wanted to, but sometimes she had to be coaxed a little. I told him about the lessons I had to do and how I hated arithmetic and liked history because my governess, Baroness Lehzen, made that very interesting.

He listened with the utmost sympathy and I confided that what I liked best was dancing and singing.

He was not a bit like a king. When he talked of certain people he changed his face and way of talking. He was very good at imitating people and some of them I recognized.

I said, “I had never thought that talking to a king could be like this.”

“Ah,” he said, “many people speak ill of kings and it is harder for them than most people to win real affection. If they do one thing which pleases some, it displeases others … so there is no way of pleasing everybody all the time.”

I pondered this and said that if one were good, God would be pleased so everyone must be pleased too.

“Except the devil,” he suggested. “He likes sinners, you know. So I am right, am I not?”

“But of course you are right because…”

“Because I am the King?”

“No …” I said judiciously, “because you are
right
.”

Aunt Mary laughed and said we should go to Virginia Water as it was a lovely drive.

We went to the King's fishing temple where we left the phaeton and went into a barge. Several important people were there. The King presented me to them and they showed me a great deal of respect. One of them was the Duke of Wellington about whom Lehzen had told me a great deal. He was the hero of Waterloo who had played such an important part in our history. He was a very great man, but I did not like him very much. He was rather haughty and I believed was trying to remind everyone of his importance. I supposed that as Waterloo had happened nearly ten years before, he thought they were beginning to forget it and the memory must be constantly revived. He was not so very tall and rather thin, with a hooklike nose and eyes that seemed to look right through one—which made me rather uncomfortable. The King seemed
to like him very much—at least to respect him. I supposed because of Waterloo.

There was music and the band played “God Save the King” while I clasped my hands and looked up with affection at my uncle, who noticed this and gave me a very pleasant smile.

But all good things must come to an end and I was taken back to Cumberland Lodge where Mama was waiting for me.

What an interrogation there was! “What did the King say?” “And what did you reply to that?” “And then?” “And then…?” With here and there Mama clicking her tongue. “You shouldn't have said that. You should have said this…or this…”

“But Mama,” I insisted. “I think the King liked me to say what
I
meant.”

“He wanted to know exactly what was going on. He wanted to trap you.”

“Oh no, Mama. He just wanted me to laugh and enjoy it.”

She shook her head at me. “You are very young, Victoria,” she said.

“But I am getting older. No one stays young forever.”

“You do not listen enough. You are too anxious to say what
you
think.”

“But, Mama, how can I say what anyone else thinks?”

She turned away and suddenly I felt sorry for her. It was odd to feel sorry for Mama when everyone in our household obeyed her…well perhaps not all. Perhaps not Sir John Conroy and it might well be that sometimes
she
obeyed
him
.

The time came when the visit to Windsor was at an end and we must return to Kensington. The King asked them to lift me onto his knee when he said goodbye. He told me how much he had enjoyed my visit and hoped I had too.

“Oh yes, indeed I have,” I said. “It has been particularly wonderful because I had been afraid that it might not be.”

“Why were you afraid?”

“One is afraid of kings.”

“Because of what one has been led to expect?”

“Yes, because of that.”

“And I was not such an ogre after all? In fact I think you and I liked each other rather well.”

“Well, I liked you, Uncle King, and I think you liked me too because you gave me such a wonderful time… besides the picture.”

He smiled and said, “Tell me what you liked best of your stay.”

I hesitated for a moment and then I said, “I liked so many things but I think the best was when you said ‘Pop her in' and we galloped off in the phaeton.”

“Did I say that?”

“Yes. ‘Pop her in.' ”

“It was not really kingly language, was it? But perhaps it was pardonable between an uncle and his niece…even though she is a princess and he a king. And that was what you liked best.”

I nodded.

“You are a dear little girl,” he said. “I trust you will always have the sweet nature you have today, and that events… and those about you… will not succeed in changing you.”

Then I said goodbye and he kissed me again.

I was almost in tears at the thought of leaving him and he was very sad.

Mama wanted to know exactly what he had said and what I had replied. I told her and added, “I think the King must be one of the nicest gentlemen in the world.”

That did not please her, but that visit to the King had changed me a little. I had the impression that it was sometimes better for me to say what I meant rather than what I was expected to say.

The King had thought so in any case.

But there was so much I did not understand. Mama was right when she said I was so young; and quite often I did feel as though I were floundering in the dark.

But I did know that the visit had made Mama very uneasy—not only about me, but about Feodore too.

L
IFE SEEMED DULL
after the visit to Windsor. There were so many lessons and far too few holidays. If I complained Lehzen told me that it was my duty to acquire knowledge. A princess must not be an ignoramus.

“But there is so much to learn!” I cried.

“Of course there is,” retorted Lehzen. “We all go on learning all our lives.”

“What a dreadful prospect!” I cried. At which she laughed and said that there was little to be compared with the joy of learning.

I wanted to dispute that and say that I knew of many more pleasant
things, but Lehzen brought forth her favorite argument. “You are too young to know. In time you will realize.”

And as I was young I could not really say this was not so. But I used to long to escape from the schoolroom. Then I would find Feodore and during the lovely summer days we would go into the gardens where I liked to water the plants. I had a very special watering can and I loved to watch the water spray out so prettily. I used to get my feet wet and Feodore would smuggle me in and Baroness Spath—whom I loved dearly because she was quite indiscreet and very kind—would put me into dry stockings, shoes, and gown, and there would be the added excitement because neither Mama nor Lehzen must know. That was imperative because if they did, the watering would be forbidden.

We often went into my Uncle Sussex's garden and I watered his plants. He had apartments like ours in the Palace and although he was a very odd gentleman—like most of the uncles—he was a very kind one. When I was little I had been frightened of him because when I had screamed on one occasion, someone had said, “Be quiet or your Uncle Sussex will get you.” I suppose it was said because his apartments were near ours. And for a long time after that I regarded him with suspicion until I discovered him to be the last person who would complain, and in any case he would have been too absorbed in his books, his birds, and his music to be aware of my tantrums. But then I had been scared of all the paternal uncles until I came to know them—with the exception of Uncle Cumberland who really did strike terror into me, and I believe not without cause.

However, there we were on those lovely summer days with the Baroness Spath—always so much less stern than Lehzen—in the gardens at Kensington—slipping into that of Uncle Sussex, Feodore with a book, I with the watering can, and Spath sitting on the grass beside Feodore watching me and now and then calling out a warning that I was pouring water onto my feet.

I was so happy smelling the lavender, listening to the hum of bees, hidden away from the windows of our apartments in the Palace.

Every time we were in Uncle Sussex's garden a young man would come to join us. He was Cousin Augustus, son of Uncle Sussex by his first marriage. Cousin Augustus was very handsome in his dragoon's uniform and he liked very much to sit beside Feodore and talk to her and Spath while I did the watering.

It was very pleasant for they laughed a good deal and old Spath sat
there nodding and smiling as she did when she was pleased. Such happy afternoons they were and then suddenly they ended; and we were not to go into Uncle Sussex's garden again.

Spath was in disgrace; so was Feodore. I found her crying one day and I begged her to tell me what was wrong.

“Augustus and I had planned to marry,” she said.

“Oh, that will be lovely,” I cried. “You would live so close and I could come and water your garden every day.”

Feodore shook her head. “Mama is very angry. I am going to be sent away.”

“Oh no, Feddie…You mustn't go away!”

She nodded miserably and the sight of her tears set me weeping with her.

“Mama is blaming poor Spath. She may be sent away, too.”

Feodore, in her abject misery, was more communicative than she would otherwise have been.

“Augustus is not considered suitable.”

I was beginning to know something of these matters and I demanded, “Why not? He is
my
cousin.”

“Well yes, but you see, although the Duke married Lady Augusta Murray, because she was not royal, the marriage was not considered to be a true one and therefore they say that dear Augustus is not legitimate. So I can't marry him.”

“It is so unfair,” I said. “It would have been lovely.”

“I know, little sister. But they won't allow it.”

“Uncle Sussex wouldn't mind.”

“Oh no. He only cares about his books and his clocks, and his bullfinches and canaries. He wouldn't mind. But Mama says we have behaved disgracefully. Oh not you…you are not blamed. It is poor old Spath and I.”

I was right to be concerned. Very soon Feodore came to me, very quiet and sad, and told me that she was going to Germany to pay a visit to our grandmother.

I was desolate and could not be comforted. Poor old Spath went about hanging her head in shame; and Lehzen took up a very superior attitude toward her.

I hugged Spath when we were alone and said, “Never mind. We were all very happy in the gardens. It wasn't your fault about Augustus not being right for Feodore. How were you to know? He is so handsome.”