The Captive of Kensington Palace

Chapter XII THE COUSINS FROM WÜRTTEMBERG

There was a great deal of excitement in Kensington Palace that June because two of Victoria’s cousins, Alexander and Ernest, the Princes of Württemberg, who were the sons of the Duchess’s sister, were to visit England.

‘Of course,’ said the Duchess to Sir John, ‘there will be speculation at St James’s.’

‘Naturally, and with good reason,’ he replied.

‘I should certainly want Victoria to marry someone from my side of the family.’

‘Most certainly,’ agreed Sir John.

‘And these dear boys are charming. It will be interesting to watch Victoria’s reactions.’

‘She is inclined to react favourably to some members of her opposite sex.’

‘I certainly do not like her fondness for George Cambridge.’

‘And you can be sure Their Majesties are delighted by it.’

‘They will be shown,’ said the Duchess haughtily.

She sent for Victoria to prime her about the visiting cousins.

‘You will want to be very hospitable to your cousins,’ she said. ‘And I am sure you will be on your best behaviour.’

Victoria was silent. Did Mamma think she was a child, who did not know how to behave with visiting relatives?

‘I have planned some excursions for your cousins. They will naturally want to see as much of England as they can … and of us.’

‘Why yes, Mamma, I suppose that is why they are coming.’

‘They are coming, my dear, because I have invited them.’

‘But of course, Mamma.’

The Duchess was becoming more and more uneasy about Victoria. Fortunately four more years must elapse before she was of age.

The day of arrival was a Sunday and Victoria was overcome with impatience to see the cousins. She chatted to Lehzen about them. They were quite old … that was older than the Georges. They would be different, too, for the Georges were being brought up to be very English and the Württemberg cousins would be very German. It was most exciting to have male cousins. There were two others whom Mamma mentioned now and then – the sons of her brother, the Duke of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha – Ernest and Albert. She hoped to meet them too one day.

‘You will,’ said Lehzen.

‘Oh, I do hope so. But in the meantime we have these dear cousins from Württemberg.’

The day went on much as usual. She found it hard to concentrate on prayers, which was such a pity, for the Rev. Mr Pittman – who substituted for the poor Dean whose little daughter had died of scarlet fever so that the poor man was too overcome to take prayers – gave an excellent sermon, his text being ‘Lord, teach us to pray.’ She had trained herself to remember such details, for Mamma expected to see them all recorded in her Journal, which, she admitted to herself, was very good training for her.

At three o’clock in the afternoon the cousins arrived, and from the moment she saw them she was enchanted with them. They were so tall and handsome and vied with each other to charm their little cousin. The Duchess was delighted with them, too, and she took them into her drawing-room and asked all sorts of questions about the family, which Victoria found most interesting. Later they went for a drive in the park and were back at the Palace in time for dinner.

Victoria confided to Lehzen that night that she was fond of them already.

‘I am very pleased to hear it,’ said Lehzen. ‘And I am sure they are ready to be as fond of you … very fond.’

It was so pleasant to be admired.

‘They are extremely tall,’ said Victoria with a laugh. ‘And Alexander is very handsome.’

‘So you prefer Alexander?’

‘Well, Ernest has a very kind expression; but I think they are both extremely amiable.’

Lehzen looked more pleased than ever and Victoria added that she thought she was going to be very much amused.

‘So,’ said William to Adelaide, ‘that woman has brought her relations over. Those two young men! You know what this is for, eh?’

‘I suppose she feels she wants to look around for a husband. Victoria is fourteen now. She may well be married in four years’ time.’

‘She’ll have to have my consent,’ said the King grimly. ‘And Victoria is to have George.’

The Queen sighed. ‘I hope so. But I daresay if Victoria wanted someone else you would not be the one to withhold your consent.’

‘That’s what that woman knows, Adelaide. She wants to lead the child not where she wants to go but what suits my lady Duchess best, and I won’t have it. I want the child to be happy, as you know. But that woman would force her into a marriage whether she wished it or not.’

‘Perhaps you would like to have a look at these young men.’

‘I should.’

‘Then I will give a ball for them and we will invite the entire Kensington party.’

‘You do that, Adelaide; and I shall let that woman know that she is not going to bring one of her miserable nephews over here to be the consort of the Queen of England.’

When the Duchess received the invitation to St James’s she was furious.

‘You know what this means,’ she cried to Sir John. ‘They want to look them over. I should not be surprised if that old buffoon isn’t planning some discourtesy to my nephews.’

‘He suspects, of course, that you have asked them here as possible suitors for Victoria.’

‘Then he suspects rightly.’

‘You will have to go carefully. Remember that his consent would have to be given. There is that Royal Marriage Bill to consider.’

‘Marriage for Victoria is some years away.’

‘That’s true. But he and the Queen want her to take young Cambridge. That’s why they want to see Victoria and the Prince together.’

‘Impertinence!’ said the Duchess.

‘But you will accept the invitation. It is, after all, in the nature of a royal command.’

‘I shall accept, but there shall be no nonsense. If he behaves indecorously I shall simply retire and take my party with me.’

‘A ball at St James’s!’ Victoria was excited. ‘You will love it,’ she told the cousins. ‘The Queen gives such wonderful balls. She thinks of everything to please her guests. She gave me such a beautiful ball for my birthday.’

The amiable cousins said they were greatly looking forward to meeting their Majesties.

It was a ceremonial occasion and the King and Queen seated on gilt chairs received their guests under a canopy. They kept Victoria with them and the King asked her how she was enjoying this visit of her German cousins.

Victoria declared that she was enjoying it immensely. Her cousins were so amusing and so friendly; she was going to miss them sadly when they went home.

‘You ought to come and see your Cousin George. He is very interesting and amiable too.’

‘I know; and I love to be with him. And with my cousin George Cumberland. I daresay he needs cheering up.’

‘I will arrange some parties for you,’ said Adelaide.

Victoria was longing to dance but it seemed she was expected to sit with the King and Queen and talk; and just as she believed she was going to dance, the Duchess of Kent swept up and told their Majesties that the Kensington party was about to leave.

‘Oh, Mamma …’ began Victoria, but a look from the Duchess silenced her.

The Queen was too bewildered to speak, because the ball which had been given in honour of the visitors, had scarcely begun.

‘The Princes are so fatigued,’ said the Duchess. They have been to a review in the park this afternoon.’

‘But they look …’ began the Queen.

‘Fatigued,’ said the Duchess promptly, and Victoria was startled that Mamma could so interrupt the Queen.

Fortunately the King, busy talking to one of his naval friends, had not heard this; and the Queen who hated any form of conflict was trying to hide how surprised she was. If the Duchess was going to make trouble, she wished to pass over it as quickly as possible. She could not allow the King to be upset on such an occasion. There was enough whispering about him as it was, and people had not yet forgotten that scene at the Royal Academy.

‘So,’ said the Duchess firmly, ‘we must leave without delay.’

‘I should like the Princes to come and stay for a few days at Windsor,’ said the Queen. ‘You must make up a little party from Kensington.’

‘I’m afraid we cannot do that,’ said the Duchess. ‘They have engagements.’

‘But they are not going to leave us just yet?’

‘They have engagements for the whole of their stay,’ said the Duchess almost rudely.

The Queen said nothing; and the Princes at the Duchess’s request came up to say good-bye to the King and Queen before they left.

The King’s looks were black as he remarked audibly he was always glad to see the back of that woman. Adelaide behaved as though it was perfectly normal for guests of honour to leave a ball almost as soon as it was started, and the Kensington party went to their carriages.

Victoria was silent as they drove along.

What a disappointment! She glanced at the Duchess who was seated in the carriage beside her, her hands clasped in her lap looking as though she was a General and had just won an important battle.

The Duchess laughed hilariously when she and Sir John were alone.

‘That will show them how big a part I intend they shall play in our affairs.’

‘The Queen was docile, of course,’ mused Sir John. ‘But there is the King to consider.’

‘He’s half mad. He’ll be put away soon. He can’t stay around much longer. And then …’

‘Ah, and then …’ said Sir John smiling into her eyes.

‘They will be asking us again before long, you see, and then …’

‘And then we shall not be here.’

‘Oh?’ Her eyes were alight with speculation.

‘The Princes will want to see something of the country before they leave. What about a trip to the Isle of Wight? We could take the Emerald and have a very pleasant time.’

‘An excellent idea! And by the time their Majesties command us to come to St James’s, we shall not be at home.’

‘It is well that the Princes should realise Victoria’s standing in the country. We’ll have royal salutes fired on every possible occasion and we’ll fly the Royal Standard over the Emerald to let all know that the future Queen is on board.’

The Duchess was gleeful.

‘We’ll show their ridiculous Majesties what we think of them. How amusing … no matter how furious they become they can never shift Victoria from her position.’

‘As usual,’ said Sir John blandly, ‘you put your finger on the real issue. I often think how carefully we should have to tread if they had that power.’

‘But they have not. That is why we can do exactly as we want. And that, my dear Sir John, is what I intend to do.’

What a gloriously exciting morning! Victoria had been up since just after five o’clock, for they were leaving Kensington Palace at seven. The Duchess and Sir John had made hasty plans which were to be kept secret because the Duchess wished it not to be known that they were going away until they had gone.

‘How I shall love to be on the dear Emerald,’ said Victoria to Lehzen over breakfast. ‘I have been telling Alexander about it.’

Alexander was the favourite, thought Lehzen; she must report this to the Duchess. Or should she? She had served the Duchess well but she did deplore her friendship with Sir John, and Sir John was no friend to Lehzen, any more than he had been to poor Späth. Späth was happy enough now with Feodora and her children, but she did feel the break with Victoria sadly; and as for Lehzen, there was no one in the world whom she could love as she loved Victoria and to be separated from her … I would prefer death, thought Lehzen dispassionately, for she was not given to dramatising situations and the fact was that she sincerely would. And Sir John had tried to separate them.

What Lehzen wanted most of all was Victoria’s happiness; and if that was to be achieved her husband must be chosen with the greatest care. Victoria was inclined to love any member of her family with enthusiasm, and she was particularly attracted by young men, and when those young men took such pains to please her – for they were fully aware of what a prize might come to one of them – she was in a state of enchantment.

Victoria was affectionate by nature. She wanted to shower love on all those around her. In the last year there had been frequent visits to the opera and the ballet and the accounts Victoria gave of these in her Journal were ecstatic – one might say hyperbolic. She would describe in detail what the dancers and singers wore; she would write of their beauty; her delight in them was profound and she expressed it with the utmost frankness.

Her greatly beloved child was so spontaneous, so delighted by the world around her, thought Lehzen, that she was ready to fall in love with the first young man who was presented to her. It must be the right one. George Cambridge was a delightful boy but Lehzen thought that being brought up so near to Victoria had made her regard him as a brother. Poor George Cumberland since his accident had aroused her overwhelming pity and perhaps because of this had become a little more popular than Cambridge. But these glittering cousins with their precise German manners and their overwhelming ability to please had been taken right to her heart.

‘God bless my dear child,’ prayed Lehzen nightly; and now as she listened to Victoria’s excited chatter at breakfast she thought: God give her happiness.

‘I shall take them walking along by the sea. They tell me they love the sea, although they did not greatly enjoy the crossing. But this will be different, I tell them. Dear little Dashy does not seem very well this morning, Lehzen. Oh dear, I do hope he is going to be well enough to travel.’

‘He can go with the grooms,’ said Lehzen. ‘I daresay he will soon be better.’

‘The sea air will be so good for him. Alexander loves Dashy. He did like him so much in his jacket and trousers, but I think they are too hot for this time of the year and they annoy him.’

She is only a child yet, thought Lehzen. And this visit is just a preliminary one. There are the other cousins to be seen and she may like them better. At least there will be four of them and I expect she will be allowed to choose within the quartet.

It was time to leave. Sir John went into the first post-chaise and led the way, and Victoria followed in the next with the Duchess; after that came Lehzen’s landau, with the cousins following in their carriage; and the rest of the party after them.

The sun was shining and the road was clear; and in an hour’s time they were changing horses at Esher. As they drove the Duchess talked to Victoria about the manner in which she should conduct herself with her cousins, and Victoria listened somewhat listlessly, murmuring: ‘Yes, Mamma,’ now and then, as she revelled in the beauties of the countryside. She wished she could have ridden with the cousins, but she supposed that would not have been very proper.

What fun it was to be towed over to the dear Isle of Wight, and Admiral Sir Thomas Williams whose barge they were using accompanied them and stood with her and her cousins as they slowly left the mainland for the island.

‘I shall always love the dear island after this,’ she said, and Alexander declared he would do the same.

‘And so shall I,’ said Ernest, not to be outdone by his brother. And he added: ‘I hope I shall come here often.’

Carriages were waiting to take them to Norris Castle in Cowes where they were to stay for a while. Victoria was secretly pleased that the Conroy family were not to stay at the Castle. Sir John had a house on the island, and he with Lady Conroy and the children were to stay there. It was called Osborne Lodge and when Victoria saw it she was delighted with it, and but for the fact that it was Sir John’s and he was there, would have liked to stay in it herself.

What a glorious time they had! Everyone wanted to see Victoria and do honour to her. The people cheered her wherever she went; guns were constantly firing salutes; the Royal Standard flew from Norris Castle; and the Princes were very impressed with the importance of their young cousin.

Alexander was a little jealous of Ernest and Ernest of Alexander; but as they were so amiable, they did not allow their jealousy to spoil the happiness of the days, only to enhance it.

I am growing up, thought Victoria; and one of the most pleasant things about growing up was the attention of young men. She tried to bestow favours equally on them because she liked them both; but if she were asked to choose which one she preferred, it would be dear Alexander.

And there was the beautiful Emerald which Victoria looked upon as her own ship, waiting for them. How she looked forward to entertaining the cousins on the ship. She was so beautiful with the Royal Standard flying bravely above her.

The Queen reading the papers at breakfast gave a little gasp of dismay.

‘What’s this?’ asked the King.

For once Adelaide’s equilibrium was disturbed and she was flushed with annoyance. It was a few days after the ball when the Duchess had discourteously left early.

‘The Württemberg Princes spent the whole of yesterday at the Zoo,’ said Adelaide. ‘And I was told that they had so many engagements that our invitation to Windsor must be refused.’

William laid down the paper he was reading and banged his fist on the table.

‘That woman,’ he said, ‘is getting beyond endurance. You ask her to a ball which is to be given in honour of her relations and she comes here and behaves as though she is some sort of Empress and we are subjects whom she is honouring. I won’t stand it, Adelaide. I tell you I won’t.’ William had begun to declaim. ‘Who is the woman? Widow of some obscure German Prince before she married Edward; and when Edward died she behaved as though she were head of the family. She has to be taught a lesson and I’m going to teach her a lesson.’

Adelaide wished she had not spoken.

‘The best thing is to ignore her,’ she began.

‘Ignore her! When she goes about parading that girl as though she is already Queen and I don’t exist. Oh no. I’ll not ignore her. I’ll humiliate her … publicly that’s what I’ll do.’

His face was growing scarlet.

He shouted for his secretary.

‘William, what are you going to do?’

‘I’m going to summon her to St James’s in such a way that she dare not refuse and then I am going to command her to bring those young men here. I’m going to tell her that they are guests in my Kingdom and if I wish to entertain them I will.’

‘William, don’t you think …’

‘I know what I think, my dear, and that is that this woman has gone too far.’

His secretary arrived and he dictated a wordy command to the Duchess to come to St James’s without delay.

When the messenger had left William stalked up and down rehearsing what he would say to That Woman when she stood before him. Adelaide watched him fearfully. Words flowed from him a little incoherently. She was terrified; and then greatly relieved when the messenger returned to say that the Duchess and her guests had left Kensington the previous day and her servants were unsure of her destination.

William was not to be appeased. ‘Royal progress,’ he said. ‘Flaunting themselves all over the Kingdom. Staying in country houses! Whig houses most of ‘em! That woman seems to believe that her daughter is the Queen and she is the Regent. For she is the one, you know. She is the ruler. The poor girl does what she’s told. Royal Salutes popping all over the place. There’s going to be an end to this popping.’

‘Perhaps,’ suggested Adelaide, ‘if they knew your wishes they would stop having these salutes fired.’

‘I shall command them to stop their poppings. Whoever heard of such arrogance? I’ll send for Earl Grey and tell him.’

‘Yes,’ said Adelaide. ‘I think that would be an excellent idea.’

When Earl Grey came he said that in view of the great popularity of the little Princess – and although he did not add the lack of popularity of the King although this was what he implied – he thought it might be a good idea to ask the Duchess first to stop having the salutes fired.

‘Ask?’ cried the King. ‘Why should I ask favours of that woman?’

‘Just as a matter of form,’ suggested Earl Grey; and Adelaide was nodding.

The King hesitated. ‘Do it how you like,’ he said, ‘but the salutes are to be stopped.’

Adelaide was relieved. She did hope the matter could be settled amicably.

‘Do you think,’ said the Duchess to Sir John, ‘that too much adulation is going to Victoria’s head?’

‘There is certainly a change in her since the arrival of the Princes.’

‘She is too fond of admiration.’

Sir John looked slyly at his Duchess. ‘It’s a common enough failing.’

‘There is no room in the life of a Queen for common failings. She is becoming vain. I have caught her twice looking in the looking-glass; and worse than that, she seemed to have quite an idea of her own importance.’

‘Since she receives royal salutes wherever she goes and the people cheer her and make much of her, and she has two handsome young men both eager to be chosen as her husband – to say nothing of those paternal cousins whom the King and Queen would favour – I suppose a little vanity is understandable.’

‘She frowned when I criticised her. I do believe she thinks that she is of more consequence than I am.’

‘That may well be,’ said Sir John.

‘She will have to be checked.’

‘Lehzen spoils her.’

‘In her own stern way perhaps.’

‘Nevertheless it is spoiling.’

‘My dear, she would make such trouble if I sent Lehzen away. She would appeal to William and Adelaide.’

‘You have snapped your fingers at them quite often.’

‘Yes, but we must remember that until William is acknowledged to be mad he is still the King and he could be difficult. Nevertheless I am determined not to allow Victoria to imagine she can command us all … yet.’

A messenger had arrived with a letter for the Duchess. Sir John watched her while she opened it and read it.

When she had done so she threw it on to the table with a sarcastic laugh. Sir John picked it up and read it.

‘They suggest that you stop the salutes.’

‘Impertinence,’ said the Duchess.

‘Well, hardly that.’

‘I shall certainly not stop them. Victoria has every right to be saluted. She will be the Queen as soon as William is dead.’

‘My dear Duchess has overlooked one factor. William is not dead.’

‘I shall write back and tell them that I have no intention of depriving my daughter of her rights. As soon as this pier is opened I shall write to this … er … person and tell him so. Now I believe it is time we left.’

Victoria was seated in the carriage with the Duchess who was regarding her critically. The child was smiling at the people who were cheering her and looking decidedly complacent. Yes, that was the word. Indeed, she was getting out of hand and it would have to be stopped.

‘Mamma, when I open the pier …’

‘We are opening the pier.’

‘Oh,’ said Victoria, and stopped herself saying more. She had heard that the pier was to be opened by the Princess Victoria; there had been no mention of the Duchess of Kent.

‘You must not imagine,’ went on the Duchess, ‘that the people are cheering you.’

Victoria, who must have the truth at all costs, said: ‘But, Mamma, they call my name.’

‘It is the Crown they are saluting.’

‘But that is Uncle William’s.’

‘You’re in a most perverse mood, and I must warn you against arrogance.’

‘But I don’t feel arrogant … only pleased that the people are so loyal and seem to like me.’

‘You think that because you are arrogant. You seem to forget that they are cheering me as well as you. And the Princes and … er … the rest of the party.’

‘But they say Victoria,’ said the Princess stubbornly.

‘Really, you are becoming most difficult.’

The carriage had stopped at the pier and the Mayor was waiting to greet them. The Duchess was helped from the carriage, followed by Victoria, and there was the Mayor seeming not to see the Duchess and going straight to Victoria all smiles, followed by the town Councillors.

‘Long live the Princess!’ called someone in the crowd. ‘Long live our little Princess Victoria.’

The Duchess might have been one of the Princess’s ladies-in-waiting for all the attention they paid to her. They hadn’t a thought beyond Victoria. It was preposterous.

She waved an imperious hand at the Mayor.

‘I have decided,’ she said, ‘that my daughter shall not open the pier. I will do it myself.’

The Mayor and his astounded councillors stared at her unable to hide their dismay. The Princess stood very still; her face had turned pale; there was glitter in her eyes, but she was determined that no one should know of the sudden fury which had seized her.

‘Your Grace,’ stammered the Mayor, ‘the people are gathered to see the Princess perform this ceremony.’

‘Then they will see me perform it instead.’

‘But the people …’

‘Come,’ said the Duchess, ‘let us proceed with the affair. Our time is limited, you know.’

In silence the ceremony was performed. Victoria could not believe that Mamma would so humiliate her in public; but she knew that the Mayor and all those present were as angry with the Duchess as she was.

Sir John, watching, thought it a mistake; but he shrugged his shoulders; nothing could alter Victoria’s accession and the more cowed she was the easier she would be to handle.

There was to be a luncheon to follow the ceremony and the Duchess coolly said that she would be unable to attend this. As the ceremony had taken place in Southampton and she was staying in the Isle of Wight it had been necessary to cross the water and that had not agreed with her. Therefore she did not feel she could take luncheon. ‘Perhaps the Princess …’ began the unfortunate Mayor. ‘The Princess cannot attend ceremonies without her mother,’ said the Duchess coldly.

It was a disastrous occasion. It would be talked of, written of, and Victoria was heartily ashamed.

Mamma had spoilt this wonderful time they were having; as long as she lived she would remember the humiliation of being treated like a child in public.

A voice inside her said: ‘You hate Mamma. You know you do. Why not admit it?’

But she had sworn to be good and good people did not hate their Mammas. At least they silenced little voices within them that insisted that they did.

The Duchess was in a bad temper which was not improved when they returned to Norris Castle and found a letter from Earl Grey. There was a new regulation regarding salutes to royal people. In future the Royal Standard must only be saluted when the King and Queen were in residence.

What a sad day, thought Victoria. Her cousins were leaving.

They were still in the Isle of Wight and she loved the place but it would not be the same without them. How I shall miss dear Ernest and even dearer Alexander! she sighed. How sad that they must go! But they had stayed for about a month and it had seemed like a week. Such fun they had had! She could not wait to write in her Journal:‘They were so amiable and pleasant … they were always satisfied, always good-humoured. Alexander took such care of me getting in and out of the boat; so did Ernest. They talked about such interesting things … We shall miss them at breakfast, at luncheon, at dinner, riding, sailing, driving, walking, in fact everywhere.’

But one must say good-bye quietly and whisper to dear Alexander – and Ernest – ‘Please come and see us again soon.’

Alexander looked at her with longing in his eyes and said he would not be happy again until he did.

And so the visit of the Württemberg cousins came to an end and she missed them sadly.

But she seemed much older than she had before they arrived. That month had changed her. She wanted the society of amusing young people; and although she tried not to, sometimes she thought of Mamma in a manner which shocked her because she was sure it was not good to dislike one’s own mother.