The Captive of Kensington Palace

Chapter XV A VISIT FROM LEOPOLD

Victoria’s sixteenth birthday would soon be with them.

‘Dear me,’ said the Duchess, ‘how time is flying. Two more years and she will be of age!’

Sir John admitted this, with some gloom. ‘I hope that she will be … amenable.’

‘My dear Sir John, what do you mean? Of course she will do as she is told.’

‘There are the little tantrums. I fancy a certain resistance is growing in our Princess.’

‘It must be crushed,’ said the Duchess with the air of a general about to go into battle.

‘She has spirit. If she fancies she is being … crushed she will refuse to be. I have seen that much in her eyes. Lehzen encourages her. It was a mistake not to get rid of her with Späth.’

‘My dear Sir John, I am sure that would have been disastrous. Victoria more or less threatened to go to the King.’

‘The King is an old fool.’

‘But a stubborn one and Adelaide is not such a fool as people believe her to be.’

‘You are right. But trust me in this, my dear Duchess, do not attempt to force the Princess. Coercion, persuasion … that is what we need. And when the day comes … and it must soon … we shall be there.’

‘The King must die before the next two years are up. How I wish she were a year or two younger.’

‘But she is not. So … let us try to please her. I believe she has a notion that we wish for power for ourselves. This is alienating her. It is her birthday. Think of something she really wants and give it to her. She likes music better than anything. Why not invite some of her favourite artistes to the Palace to give a concert for her. I am sure there is nothing she would like better. She grows lyrical about that Grisi woman; I am sure an invitation to give a concert here would send our Princess into rhapsodies of gratitude.’

‘It is an excellent idea,’ said the Duchess, ‘and shall be carried out.’

It had been a wonderful concert, and it was the Duchess’s birthday present to her. What a truly wonderful present. She could not have had anything to please her more.

‘How very thoughtful of Mamma,’ she remarked to Lehzen.

She wrote of it in her Journal – how she had sat in the front row with the family, joined by poor Aunt Sophia and the Duchess of Cambridge – George’s mother – who was now in England because George was going to be confirmed and later with George Cumberland to receive the Order of the Garter. The singing was heavenly; and what a joy to see Grisi off the stage – so tall and pale with such a lovely mild expression; her eyes were dark and beautiful and her eyelashes long. She had definitely not been disappointed in dear Grisi. Victoria was transported with delight when she sang Tanti affetti from Donna del Lago. There were other artistes, too, for Mamma had determined to bring in all her favourites. But there was none to compare with Grisi – dear, beautiful, talented Grisi!

She found it difficult to stop writing of the concert; she described it in detail reliving it as she did so.

‘Now,’ she told Lehzen, ‘I only have to read this account of it and I shall hear it all again. Aunt Sophia loved it. Poor Aunt Sophia, she had never heard any of the singers before! But nobody was as enchanted as I was. I shall never forget it. What a wonderful, wonderful birthday present.’

‘A great success,’ said the Duchess when she read the Journal. But she was less pleased when she read the entry of a few days later.‘Sunday, 24th May. Today is my sixteenth birthday. How very old that sounds; but I feel that the two years to come till I attain my eighteenth are the most important of almost any.’

Yes, those words were ominous. Victoria was thinking of that important eighteenth birthday when she could, should the King die, become the Queen, when she could, if she wished, demand that her mother cease to control her, when she could refuse to sleep in the same bedroom, and insist that she was alone when she wished to be.

‘She is becoming too much aware of her position,’ said the Duchess. ‘We must be more watchful than ever.’

There was the usual present-giving on the birthday and Victoria was awake soon after six with the delicious anticipation which birthdays always gave her. Mamma was ready with the presents.

‘Oh, but, Mamma, you gave me the most wonderful of presents. That beautiful … beautiful concert.’

The Duchess kissed her; she was always softened at present-giving time. She had had a brooch made containing a lock of her hair.

‘I thought you would like it as it is my hair.’

‘Oh, Mamma, it is beautiful.’

There were other gifts from the Duchess, of course, including a bracelet with a lock of her hair to match the brooch, a shawl and books; Lehzen’s present was a lovely leather case containing little knives and pencils. The King sent a pair of sapphire and diamond ear-rings, and there was a Bible from a bookseller named Mr Hatchard.

All day long the presents were arriving. She wondered where she would put them all, she confided to George Cambridge who sat beside her on a sofa – closely watched by Mamma – while they looked at the drawings in the album which was his birthday present to her.

She was very happy when she went to bed – and it was only half past nine so she wrote in her diary while it was all fresh and she had all the presents about her so that she would not forget one.

‘My dear Mamma’s great present was that delicious concert,’ she wrote, ‘which I shall never forget.’

Yes, the concert was a great success. Victoria had written of her mother as dear Mamma; and that was something she rarely did.

‘Today,’ thought Victoria when she awoke on that July morning a few weeks after her sixteenth birthday, ‘is one of the most important days in my life.’

Lehzen and the Duchess had impressed upon her the importance of it. She was going to be confirmed. After today she must make a very special effort to be good; she must try to be a good daughter as well as a good Queen – when the time came. That would be necessary if she were to be a good Christian; she must comfort Mamma, and try to understand her.

She was full of good resolutions.

On the table near her bed she could see the books which Mamma had given her yesterday. A Method of Preparation for Confirmation, An Address to the Candidates for Confirmation, and An Address to the Students of Eton College who are about to Present themselves for Confirmation in 1833. She had not had time to read them yet but she would, and hereafter she would try to be a good Christian in every way.

She had done a rather good drawing yesterday and she was going to give it to Mamma with a very pretty pin in memory of this day; for Lehzen she had a ring. They were after all, the two who had prepared her for this and she must show her gratitude.

For an hour she lay thinking of this until Lehzen came in to say it was eight o’clock and to ask when she was going to get up.

‘Oh, Lehzen, I have been thinking of the importance of today.’

Lehzen agreed that it was very important and laid four prints on the bed; they were pictures of Saints and biblical subjects.

‘They are very pretty, Lehzen, and so suitable.’

Lehzen said that she thought so.

After breakfast Victoria put on the white lace dress which had been specially made for the confirmation; and there was a white crepe bonnet trimmed with white roses. Lehzen wept openly when she saw her, and Victoria threw her arms about her. ‘Dearest Lehzen, I am still the same. I shall not change. I shall still be your affectionate child even though I am a good Christian.’

Which made Lehzen break down altogether.

The carriages arrived and Victoria and the Duchess took their place in the first of them and drove off to St James’s.

In the King’s closet the Queen embraced Victoria and whispered to her that she was not to be alarmed, because it was going to be a beautiful ceremony. The King kissed her too and said she looked pretty. How kind they both were! How she wished there was not always trouble between them and Mamma; and the older she grew the more she was inclined to blame Mamma for it – which was not a very Christian thing to do when she was so close to confirmation. I shall have to curb myself, she thought.

The family had assembled in some force for this very important occasion. The kind Duke of Cambridge with his pretty Duchess was there and she told Victoria that her son George was to be confirmed very shortly too. Both the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge were very anxious for her to like their son and she told them she did very much. The Duke of Cumberland, looking very sinister with his odd wicked face, watched her intently; she asked him about poor George and he told her that Victoria’s visits to the beautiful blind boy were what he looked forward to more than anything. The Duke hoped she would spare the time to bring a little comfort into his son’s life. And Victoria felt like weeping to think of being blind and unable to see the sun and the flowers – and even the Duke of Cumberland who was not a very charming sight.

The King had taken her hand and was leading her into the Chapel where she stood at the altar rail between him and her mother. She took off her bonnet and was bareheaded for the ceremony.

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.’

‘Then I know I shall. You were going to tell me how to be a good Queen.’

‘Take advice from those whom you trust and are in a position to advise you.’

‘There is you, Uncle Leopold.’

‘Always,’ he said fervently.

‘Apart from you there is no one.’ She hesitated; she realised that to go on would somehow be disloyal to Mamma.

But Uncle Leopold was insistent. ‘You must hold nothing back from me, my love.’

‘I do not wish to, Uncle, but …’

‘Oh come, my darling. I want you to tell me everything … to be absolutely frank. You were going to say that there was no one whom you could trust but me. Was that so?’

‘Yes. I was going to say that. There is Lehzen, of course, who is my dear dear friend, and I know that all her loyalty is for me. I was not thinking of Lehzen, for she would not advise me in the way you mean.’

‘Then you were thinking of your mother.’

Victoria coloured hotly. ‘I love Mamma. I know she thinks constantly of my good.’

‘But?’ insisted Leopold.

Victoria hesitated; then she blurted out: ‘But I think she listens too much to Sir John Conroy.’

‘Ah,’ said Uncle Leopold with a long-drawn-out sigh.

‘I daresay I am wrong,’ began Victoria.

‘I daresay you are right,’ said Leopold. ‘You may be absolutely frank with me, my darling. I understand. I know what is going on. You have to act with caution and discretion. Your position is an irksome one. I know it well. Try to accept it. It will not be for long. In two years’ time, my child, you will be of age. Always remember that. Be prudent. You know that I am watching over you. Never be afraid to confide all in me. Be patient, my dearest love, and all will be well, you will see.’

‘Oh, Uncle, what comfort you bring me! When I think it is only two more years I should be a little frightened if I did not know that you were there.’

He pressed her hand, and told her that he had been looking forward so much to seeing her and he had not been disappointed. She was still his darling child. He now knew that she had lost none of her affection for him and that made him the happiest man in the world.

She was enchanted with Aunt Louise who was, after all, Leopold’s wife. Leopold loved her; and Victoria must love all those whom Leopold wished her to. She must love her maternal cousins better than her paternal ones. But of course she would since they were closely related to Leopold. She had loved the Württemberg cousins very much; and she was prepared to love Ferdinand and Augustus – but best of all she must love Ernest and Albert because Uncle Leopold loved them and wanted her to do so, too.

Aunt Louise’s English was fluent and her French accent pretty. She had such lovely clothes and Victoria was fascinated by them.

One day Aunt Louise took her up to her room and they tried on all her clothes which were very elegant having been made in Paris. Aunt Louise showed her how to wear them and they were large on Victoria – but not so very large, for Louise was slight and shorter than the Duchess.

‘How pretty you will look in some lovely clothes!’ cried Aunt Louise.

‘I am always dressed like a little girl.’

‘That will not always be so. I will send you some clothes from France.’

‘Oh, Aunt Louise, how lovely. I wonder if Mamma will let me wear them! But of course she will, because Uncle Leopold will approve. I should so love to look like you, Aunt Louise. But I never shall because I am not so pretty.’

‘Nonsense, nonsense,’ said Louise. ‘We are as sisters … Ah, that is pleasant. We shall be sisters. Could you think of me as such?’

‘Oh, Aunt Louise, I could, I could.’

She was sober suddenly.

‘What is wrong?’ asked Louise.

‘I was just thinking how sad and dull everything is going to be when you and Uncle Leopold have gone.’

And the end of their visit was coming near. Victoria tried not to think of it, but it was impossible not to.

‘I almost wish,’ she told Lehzen, ‘that it had not all been so perfect, then I should not be so sad.’

‘Come, come,’ said Lehzen. ‘You will see them again. They will visit you.’

‘They did not for more than four years.’

‘But your Uncle writes you lovely letters and your Aunt will now that you have met.’

‘I feel so sad,’ sighed Victoria. ‘I could weep.’

‘You must be gay for their last days.’

But Victoria found this difficult. She had a headache and she felt sick.

She braced herself to be gay for the next few days; and when Leopold and Louise took their leave and she, with her party, saw the steamer with the Belgian flag sailing away, she could make no more attempts, and Lehzen taking her hand cried out in horror.

‘How hot you are! I think you are letting this departure upset you too much.’

‘They have gone,’ sobbed Victoria. ‘It is all so dull without them.’

‘I should go to your room and lie down,’ said Lehzen. ‘I will sit with you.’

Victoria felt too listless to disagree. She allowed Lehzen to lead her to bed and when she was there she sank into a sleep immediately.

In the morning she felt faint and sick and in great consternation the Duchess called in her doctor.

Within the next few days it was known that the Princess had an attack of typhoid fever.