The Captive of Kensington Palace, page 11
‘Well, I trust now that she is growing up we shall see more of her. The King would like to see her at Bushy.’
‘If His Majesty wishes to see her, he knows what he must do!’
Adelaide was amazed that the Duchess could speak so of the King. No wonder William disliked her.
‘I … don’t fully understand,’ said Adelaide hesitantly.
‘His Majesty is surrounded by his bastards at Bushy. I think it would be extremely unsuitable for the … er … Heiress Presumptive … to mix with them.’
‘They are the King’s own children, and he as King has them living with him en famille.’
‘I should never allow Victoria to come into contact with these people.’
‘But the King wishes to see more of her and as he has no intention of dismissing his own family, it is almost certain that she will.’
‘I cannot allow it.’ The Duchess was imperious. Any observer would have thought that she was the Queen, Adelaide the Duchess. She began to walk about the apartment, her bracelets jingling, her impressive bosom heaving, so that the jewels with which she loved to adorn herself glittered in fiery defiance. ‘Nor,’ she went on, ‘do I think that I should be expected to live in these apartments which are entirely inadequate for the Heiress to the throne. I am living under the same roof as that Buggin woman. Oh, I know she has rented Niddry Lodge on Camden Hill there, but she is more often in the apartments of the Duke of Sussex. Buggin! My daughter is expected to live at close quarters with a woman named Buggin.’
‘She is hardly responsible for her name.’
‘She is entirely responsible. She married it! As the daughter of the Earl of Arran she should have known better.’
‘Augustus seems to be delighted with her.’
‘Augustus has no right to be.’
‘Perhaps he will marry her now that Augusta is dead. He swore that he couldn’t, you know, while he had a wife living, and although Augusta was not recognised as his wife he always regarded himself as married to her, even after they separated. I think it rather noble of him.’
The Duchess looked with scorn at Adelaide. How mild she was! She had no jealousy of herself which the Duchess could not understand when what Adelaide desired above all else was a child, and she, the Duchess, had her healthy Victoria, Heiress Presumptive to the throne.
‘Noble!’ snorted the Duchess. ‘Living with the Buggin woman, which is what he is doing. It’s most irregular. But what I find so disturbing is that he should be doing so under the same roof as Victoria.’
Oh dear, thought Adelaide. The Duchess of Kent was in a truculent mood. She had better leave her and decide later what should be done. She must be careful not to tell William too much. He was always annoyed with the Duchess; and indeed the woman did give herself airs. But if he knew she was going to set herself up in deliberate defiance he would become very excitable, which was just the state he must most carefully avoid.
When the Queen had gone the Duchess sat at her table and wrote to the Duke of Wellington.
Now that King George IV was dead and his brother had become King William IV, this meant that the Princess Victoria was heiress to the throne. (She would not use that horrible word Presumptive.) She believed that it was quite unsuitable for the heiress to the throne to be living in comparative penury. She believed that an income should immediately be settled on her, and that her mother should become the Dowager Princess of Wales.
When she had written the letter she took it to Sir John and showed it to him.
He smiled. His tempestuous Duchess was indeed a handful, but he liked her for it; and as long as he could guide her, he had no objection to her arrogance towards others.
The request was absurd, he knew. Her husband, the Duke of Kent, had never been the Prince of Wales and so it would be quite irregular to bestow a title on her to which she had no right.
He imagined the Duke’s face when he received such a demand.
Should he advise her to send it? Why not? It would estrange her farther than ever from the King, and Conroy’s one fear was that the Duchess would become friendly with her late husband’s family. If she did so, they might turn her from Sir John. It was bad enough to have Leopold as a rival, for while Leopold was so close to her, Conroy could never have the complete control he longed for. He always had to be wary of Leopold. But he was determined that no other members of the family should attempt to oust him from his position.
‘It is as well to let the King know through Wellington that you are conscious of your position,’ he said; so the note was sent.
When Wellington received the Duchess’s letter he said: ‘The insanity in the royal family has spread to the Duchess. She is certainly mad to think for one moment that such a possibility could be considered.’
‘Madam,’ he wrote, ‘your request is not admissible.’
When the Duchess received his cold reply she was furious. She went with it at once to Conroy.
‘This man Wellington gives himself airs. Because he won a battle he thinks he can rule the country. Who is he? Arthur Wellesley! He thinks because he was present at the Battle of Waterloo that entitles him to insult me. It was very likely Blucher who was responsible for that victory. And because of it, he thinks he can command us all. And what of his relationship with Mrs Arbuthnot? I have heard that he neglects his Duchess shamefully for that woman. The Duchess of Wellington may be a fool but it is nothing to his credit that he should treat her as though she does not exist. And this is the man who dares tell me I have no right to the title of Dowager Princess of Wales.’
Sir John let her run on. Let her start a feud with Wellington; the more trouble she had with other people, the more friendly she would be towards her dear Comptroller of her Household.
But in due course the Duchess admitted that there had been no hope of her receiving that title. Yet, Sir John assured her, it was as well to let them know that she was aware of the dignities of her position as mother to the Heiress of the throne. Presumptive? No! Apparent! Victoria was going to be Queen.
Very soon after the Duchess was in a state of elation. The Lord Chancellor, Lord Lyndhurst, presented a Bill in Parliament that should create the Duchess of Kent Regent in the event of the King’s dying and her daughter’s ascending the throne as a minor.
The Duchess was delighted. Wellington might have treated her without due respect; Lord Grey might have referred to her as a tiresome devil; but Lord Lyndhurst had put her case to Parliament and Parliament had seen the reason in it.
Nor was Lord Lyndhurst the only one, for the Bill was passed. The Duchess would be Regent of England; Parliament had added £10,000 to her income, to be used for the education and household of the Princess Victoria.
This was triumph.
The Duchess summoned Victoria to tell her what had happened.
‘We must never forget your position,’ she told Victoria. ‘The death of your Uncle George has brought you right up to the throne. And when your Uncle William dies, as you won’t be old enough to govern, I shall be the Regent.’
‘But, Mamma, suppose I am old enough before Uncle William dies.’
‘Victoria, you say the most surprising things.’
‘Is it surprising? People do live longer than is often thought. There was Uncle George. His death was expected long before it came.’
The Duchess looked pained. Victoria was beginning to be too self-assertive. ‘When William dies,’ she insisted, ‘I shall be Regent.’
Victoria felt a little indignant. The idea of the Duchess as Regent was not very pleasant to her. As a daughter she had had to do exactly as Mamma said; how disconcerting if, as Queen, she should find herself in the same dilemma!
But once she was eighteen she would be of age. That day was a long way ahead. Seven years. She secretly hoped that Uncle William would not die before that time.
The Duchess dismissed her. She gave herself the airs of a Regent already.
Victoria wept when she said good-bye to Baroness Späth.
‘Darling Späth. I shall miss you so.’
Poor Späth dabbed at her eyes and embraced the Princess.
‘It breaks my heart to leave you.’
‘But you will be with dearest Feodora,’ said Victoria, because she felt that heartbroken as she was she must at all costs comfort poor Späth.
‘Ah, yes, but my heart will be with you.’
‘You’ll love the little babies. Imagine Feodora with two babies now. I know she loves them dearly; she shows it in her dear letters. Little Charles is such a handful now and you will be so useful to her.’
‘I daresay she is surrounded by useful people.’
‘But she always had a special feeling for you; besides she will be able to talk to you of me, which I am sure is what she will very much enjoy.’
‘My dearest Princess, make sure that the Baroness Lehzen is not sent away.’
‘Lehzen!’ cried Victoria in horror.
‘It may be that those who decided to be rid of me may wish to see her out of the way, too.’
At the thought of losing Lehzen Victoria felt sick with horror. Dear Späth was bad enough, but the old Baroness was a bit of a fool though a dear one. But Lehzen was as close to Victoria as her own mother – oh much closer than that if the truth must be known. Lehzen was second only to Uncle Leopold.
She said firmly: ‘You may be sure that I should make such a storm that they would not dare send her away.’
Späth took her last farewell and set out on her sad journey, back to her native land, and to try to find some solace for the loss of Victoria in Feodora and her babies.
Uncle Leopold called at Kensington to take his farewell, he said, of his beloved niece.
Victoria had found it hard to believe when she had heard that he was going to leave England. He came to tell her himself that fate had cruelly decided to separate them.
He embraced her and laid his cheek against hers; she was too deeply moved for tears. She looked into his beautiful face with the utmost love and admiration.
‘You see,’ he explained, ‘the people of Belgium have separated from Holland. They need a King; and they believe that no one will fill that role but me.’
‘But it means your living in Belgium, Uncle Leopold!’
‘Alas, exactly so. I could not be the King of a country and not live in it.’
She saw that; she saw too the gleam in Uncle Leopold’s eyes at the prospect of kingship, and she knew at once how much more suitable it would be for Uncle Leopold to be a King rather than the Prince Consort of a wife who though she would have been Queen had she lived was long since dead.
Oh yes, she must accept this sorrow. Uncle Leopold could not forgo his crown even for her.
‘I shall always be with you … in spirit,’ he told her. ‘I shall write to you very very often. I have told your mother that I shall be constantly in touch. Your affairs will continue to be those nearest my heart. Nothing … no one could ever supplant you.’
She wept; she embraced him and told him she loved him; then she said good-bye.
‘But it is not good-bye,’ said Uncle Leopold. ‘We are too close, my darling, ever to say good-bye. You will be with me in my thoughts; and I shall follow everything you do.’
‘No,’ said Victoria sturdily, ‘it is not good-bye. It could not be because if it were I would be too unhappy to bear my sorrow.’
Sir John was elated. The Baroness Späth had been removed through her own folly and his ingeniousness; even better, benevolent fate had removed Leopold. The new King of the Belgians would of course continue to direct affairs but how different to do so from Brussels than from Claremont. There would be no more Wednesday afternoons when he pried too closely into the Duchess’s affairs for the comfort of Sir John Conroy. The field was clear now for Sir John – as far as the Duchess was concerned.
They must not ignore Victoria, of course; and she was too much under the spell of her German governess. Lehzen gave herself too many airs. Stupid old woman continually munching her caraway seeds and, he was sure, antagonising Victoria against him.
He came unceremoniously into the Duchess’s drawing-room, where she was sitting at her table frowning over some papers.
‘My dear Duchess, you are bothered.’
‘Oh these tiresome papers! Why do they send them?’
‘You must allow me to deal with them. They are not important enough for you to bother your head over.’
He looked very handsome with his finely chiselled features and that amused expression which was so often in his eyes. So tall, such a commanding figure. Dear Sir John!
‘I wanted to talk to you about something of far greater moment.’
‘Come and sit near me.’
He drew up a chair and leaning an elbow elegantly on the table, smiled admiringly into her face.
‘I am disturbed about the Baroness Lehzen.’
‘Indeed.’
‘She has become too self-important since the departure of her crony.’
‘I fear so.’
‘And I believe she is influencing Victoria far too much.’
‘Victoria has always had a great affection for her.’
‘All very well when she was a child. But now she is nearly twelve. She has her newly appointed governess. What need of Lehzen?’
‘The Duchess of Northumberland is her nominal governess only. She will not perform Lehzen’s old tasks.’
‘That’s so. Lehzen is a very good governess … for the nursery. I am sure the Princess Feodora would find her most useful in the bringing up of her children.’
The Duchess looked surprised. ‘You mean that we should send Lehzen away?’
‘I mean that certain changes should be made in Victoria’s household. We want the world to realise that she is no longer a child, and the best way in which we can do this is by removing her nursery governess.’
‘Lehzen would not like to hear herself so described.’
‘I fear there is a great deal that Lehzen does not like about the household. She does not relish these changes. In fact she is trying to poison the Princess’s mind against us.’
‘Can that be so?’
‘You have noticed the difference in the Princess’s attitude lately.’
The Duchess admitted that she had.
‘And who do you think is responsible?’
‘You really think it is Lehzen?’
‘I know it, my dear Duchess.’
‘Then,’ said the Duchess, ‘Lehzen must go.’
Lehzen said: ‘They are trying to part us.’ She corrected herself: ‘That man is trying to part us.’
Victoria’s blue eyes were blazing. ‘They never shall.’
‘He has sent poor Späth away.’
Victoria threw her arms about Lehzen. ‘They shall never send you away,’ she declared.
Lehzen noticed the use of the word ‘they’. So Victoria included her mother in the conspiracy. What, wondered Lehzen, did Victoria know of the relationship between her mother and the Comptroller of the Household? Perhaps a great deal, for her dislike of the man grew greater every day; and sometimes Lehzen felt the Princess included her mother in her dislike.
‘Don’t worry, dear Lehzen,’ she went on. ‘They shall never part us.’
‘I should be terrified if they did.’
‘Never fear. They shall not.’
Victoria looked defiantly from her mother to Sir John Conroy.
‘I know what you are trying to say,’ she told them coolly. ‘You want to tell me that it would be advisable for the Baroness Lehzen to leave us and go back to Germany to join Feodora and poor Späth. I must make it clear that that is something I do not wish.’
‘You do not wish?’ said her mother.
‘That is what I said. I do not wish it.’
For all the world, said the Duchess afterwards to Sir John as though she were the Queen already.
They were so struck by her defiance that they were momentarily speechless; and that gave Victoria her chance.
‘If the Baroness Lehzen received orders to leave my household,’ went on Victoria, ‘I should not let her go. I should go to the Queen and beg her to tell the King exactly what I felt. I know she would do so; and I know that His Majesty would grant my wish. The Queen has told me that she understands exactly how I feel about losing dear Späth and she was most sorry for me.’
‘The King does not control Kensington Palace,’ said the Duchess, her colour rising.
‘I was of the opinion that the King ruled his kingdom and as Kensington Palace is part of that kingdom I cannot see that it should be outside his rule.’
‘Oh,’ said the Duchess, ‘so we are to have a little storm, are we?’
‘A storm, yes, Mamma,’ replied Victoria, ‘but it will not be a little one if any attempt is made to part me from the Baroness Lehzen.’
With that she swept out of the room.
The Duchess stared after her in fury; but Sir John merely smiled.
‘Her Majesty is in a regal mood today.’
‘The impertinence …’ cried the Duchess. ‘I shall send for her. She will be severely taken to task. I …’
He laid a hand on her arm.
‘She is no longer a child.’
‘She is twelve years old.’
‘She has been made aware of her destiny. We shall have to be careful now.’
‘Careful … of my own daughter!’
‘The Queen-to-be! And she is shrewd too. She would have Adelaide on her side and Adelaide would bring in William. I am convinced that we should receive a royal command to keep Lehzen in the household.’
‘This is my household,’ spluttered the Duchess.
‘Yes … yes … it’s true. But William could issue an order. And then where should we be? Our best plan is to be astonished that she took us so seriously. We had no real intention of sending Lehzen away. It was a complete misunderstanding.’ The Duchess stared in amazement at Sir John, but he only smiled at her tenderly.
‘You will see that this is the wise course to take,’ he said.
After a little persuasion she came round to his view as she always did.
