THE SECRET PICTURE, 1843
Shortly after Albert and I celebrated the third anniversary of our wedding, I sent for the artist Franz Javer Winterhalter to paint my portrait as a birthday gift for my beloved Albert’s twenty-fourth birthday. Winterhalter had done earlier portraits of me, formally posed in a court gown with my hair done up, wearing diamond necklaces and earrings, all very proper.
This one is QUITE different. No court gown, no diamond jewelry, no queenly profile. My hair is loose, falling over my bare shoulder. I am wearing only a simple locket, and I gaze off to my left, my lips slightly parted. This is the way Albert sees me, and only Albert sees me, when we are alone. I am not a queen in this portrait. I am dearest Albert’s wife. The painting is to be a surprise and to remain a secret. It is for no other eyes but his.
A new infant, our third, sleeps in the royal nursery: Alice, born on the twenty-fifth of April. A month later I attended a ball in celebration of my twenty-fourth birthday. Since then the artist has come nearly every day, and we retire to his rooms—first at Buckingham Palace, now at Windsor Castle—where he has set up his easel. Winterhalter is German, and in the past when I posed for him we spoke together in his language through the long hours. But not this time. I have asked him to let me sit in silence with my thoughts.
“I shall leave orders that I do not wish to be disturbed,” I told him. “I wish to use these hours to recall the most important events of my life.”
That is when I allowed my memories to drift back over my life, back to Sir John Conroy, when I was still a child.
At first Winterhalter was concerned that my reveries, as he called them, were unpleasant, for my brow furrowed and my mouth often became grim.
“I was thinking of a man I used to despise,” I explained with a laugh. Mamma knew that I was never fond of him, though she did not suspect how much I despised him. “Perhaps I should think instead of my singing lessons with Luigi Lablache.”
The man I despised has returned to England and retired to his rural estate, Arborfield Hall, in the country west of Windsor. How Sir John must have laughed when he learned that his old enemy, Baroness Lehzen, had been sent away! I have not forgiven him; I have simply decided to forget him.
There are some things I would rather forget but cannot. One was my refusal to honor Sir Robert Peel’s quite reasonable request to replace some of my ladies of the bedchamber. I was too young and inexperienced to see that he was right, and my pride and stubbornness nearly brought on a constitutional crisis.
Another incident I’d rather forget is my treatment of Lady Flora Hastings. I felt no remorse at the time, believing myself blameless and her guilty. I recognize now that I was wrong on both counts. I ill-used her, in part because she, in her turn, had ill-used Lehzen, to whom I was completely devoted. That was no excuse for my cruelty, and I do very much regret it.
In the months following Lehzen’s departure, I have come to realize how sorely trying it must have been for dearest Albert to endure her constant carping. I blame myself for my blindness, and I shudder to think what my beloved Albert had to go through. We never speak of it.
There has been another change that I did not anticipate. When I was first recovering from the birth of our Pussy, dearest Albert went every evening to dine with Mamma, who of course is his aunt as well as his mother-in-law. They grew fond of each other, and after Baroness Lehzen was no longer present to stoke the fires, Albert began to patiently repair the breach that had opened between my mother and me. He persuaded me to give her Clarence House, only a short walk from Buckingham Palace, as well as Frogmore House near Windsor. Comfortably settled there, she visits my children nearly every day—never interfering, but simply delighting in them. I have come to look forward to those visits. For the first time in many years, my dear mamma has a loving daughter who welcomes her into her life.
These sittings are coming to an end; Winterhalter says he will finish the portrait within a fortnight. I, too, have finished my reveries. Sir John long ago lost his power over me. Lehzen, once so dear to me but at the end such a trial, has gone away, though we do exchange letters. Lord Melbourne is still a dear friend, but no longer indispensable.
And I—I am the most fortunate of women. My three children grow more enchanting each day. I have the devotion of my beloved Albert, SO good and SO beautiful. We labor side by side at the hard work of governing the realm. Sometimes we argue—my temper is still short—but our passion for each other burns more brightly than ever. That is the secret of my secret picture.
V. R.
THE VICTORIAN AGE
NOTES FROM THE AUTHOR
Victoria was queen for nearly sixty-four years, the longest reign of any English monarch. Though she had no direct power in a constitutional monarchy—she reigned, but she did not govern—Queen Victoria had enormous influence at a time of great expansion of the British Empire, all those vast areas in pink (originally red) on the map of the world. Her name defines an age.
Fortunately for historians, Victoria began, at the urging of her mother, to keep a diary when she was thirteen, and it was a habit she kept throughout her long life. But the entries in these diaries were written with the knowledge that they would be read—by her mother and her beloved governess, Baroness Lehzen, and later by those who might have an interest in the life of a queen. They were not private. We can only guess at what she was really feeling at the most critical times of her young life—until Prince Albert entered her life. Suddenly she was wearing her heart on her sleeve, her great love and passion for her husband splashed across the page. As a diarist she employed a dramatic style throughout her life, liberally sprinkling her entries with LOTS OF CAPITALS and underlining furiously, sometimes three or four times. Victoria’s diaries have provided much of the inspiration for this book.
I have long been interested in the young princess in the years before she became her own mistress, as she put it, and then queen, and could free herself from the dark forces that ruled her life. I’ve included here additional material on her family history and the background of many of those around her.
Queen and Consort
Victoria and Albert adored each other, but their fights became legendary. Tempers flared on both sides as the balance of power shifted from one to the other. Albert complained to his friend, Baron Stockmar, “Victoria is too hasty and passionate for me to speak of my difficulties. She will not hear me out but flies into a rage and overwhelms me with reproaches and suspicions, lack of trust, ambition, envy, etc. I can either keep silence and go away, or I can be still more violent, and then we have scenes, which I hate.”
Queen Victoria gave birth to nine children. Twenty-six of her forty-two grandchildren married European royalty or members of noble families from one end of the Continent to the other, so that Queen Victoria became known as “the grandmother of Europe.” Among her many grandchildren was Tsarina Alexandra of Russia, the mother of Anastasia.
When Prince Albert died at the age of forty-two, his passing plunged Queen Victoria into profound grief from which she never fully recovered. The queen went into deep mourning for the rest of her long life.
Heir to the English Throne
When the thirteen American colonies declared their independence, King George III ruled England. He was happily married to a German princess, Charlotte, and the couple produced nine sons and six daughters. The eldest son, George, was created Prince of Wales, and when George III began to descend into madness, the younger George was named prince regent to rule in his father’s place.
King George pressed the prince regent to marry his cousin, Caroline of Brunswick. The pair soon detested each other and separated after the birth of a daughter, Charlotte, in 1796. The prince regent took a number of mistresses; his favorite, Maria Fitzherbert, bore him several illegitimate children. His one legitimate daughter, Charlotte, was the heir to the throne.
Princess Charlotte of Wales was a rebellious young woman. When her father tried to compel her to marry William, prince of Orange, Charlotte fl
ed. Eventually she returned to her father’s house, still refusing to marry the “detested Dutchman.” Instead, she fixed her sights on the handsome German prince she had met at a party, Leopold of Saxe-Coburg. Finally overcoming her father’s opposition, Charlotte and Leopold were married in May 1816. Soon Princess Charlotte became pregnant, and England excitedly awaited the birth of the future king or queen. On November 5, 1817, a stillborn boy was delivered. Hours later, Charlotte, too, was dead.
The English line of succession had suddenly come to an end. King George III had fifty-six grandchildren; almost unbelievably, none of them was legitimate. Fifty-six bâtards, and not one eligible to inherit the throne.
Edward, duke of Kent, the fourth son, was in line for the crown after his older brother, the prince regent, father of the dead Charlotte; after Frederick, duke of York, who was childless (not counting his illegitimate children by various mistresses); and after William, duke of Clarence, all of whose children were illegitimate. Edward had been living in Paris with his mistress when he learned of the death of his niece, Charlotte, and her baby. The childless Edward decided to find a wife and marry for the sake of the succession. His fondest hope was to become the father of the future monarch of England.
The English Duke and the German Princess
Edward had met Charlotte’s newly widowed husband, Prince Leopold, and liked him. Leopold had a sister in Germany, and Edward thought she might make him a suitable wife. With his equerry, Captain John Conroy, the fifty-year-old duke of Kent set off for Amorsbach, Germany, to woo Princess Victoire, a thirty-one-year-old widow with two children: Charles, age eleven, and Feodore, called Fidi, who was ten.
It was a successful trip. Edward’s proposal was accepted, and on May 29, 1818, the duke and the dowager princess were married. Princess Victoire, now the duchess of Kent, was soon pregnant. Determined that the baby must be British-born, the duke, who was always entangled in debt, begged and borrowed enough money to transport his household to England.
The family left the castle in Amorsbach at the end of March 1819 in a caravan of carriages organized by Captain Conroy. The duke drove his open carriage with the duchess beside him. The duchess’s lady-in-waiting, Baroness Späth, followed in a second carriage with Princess Feodore and Louise Lehzen, her governess. Prince Charles was away at school in Switzerland and did not accompany them. A caravan of various vehicles, crowded with cooks, maids, valets, and footmen, and the duchess’s little dogs, made its way across Germany and France on roads so rough that Lehzen claimed her bones were badly rattled. When the group reached Calais, the royal yacht took them across the channel to England. Everyone on board was seasick on the crossing. Nearly a month after leaving Amorsbach, they arrived at Kensington Palace in the country outside of London.
A month later, on the twenty-fourth of May, 1819, a baby girl was born. “Plump as a partridge,” the duke boasted about his infant daughter. “A model of strength and beauty combined!”
Naming the Baby
The duke and duchess of Kent discussed possible names for their little daughter. Her mother suggested naming her Georgina, in honor of her uncle George, the prince regent.
Her father disliked that suggestion, because he disliked his oldest brother. He preferred to name her Victoire, for his beloved wife.
Her mother then proposed Alexandrina, for her godfather, Tsar Alexander of Russia.
Her father offered a lengthy compromise: Georgina Alexandrina Victoire, adding Charlotte Augusta as well for good measure. Her mother agreed, and the list of names was sent to the prince regent, who had the right to decide the little princess’s name.
For several days the baby’s father received no reply, except to be informed that the christening must be a private affair with only a handful of invited guests. The walls of the Cupola Room at Kensington Palace were draped with crimson velvet. A christening font made of gilded silver was brought out from London. The Archbishop of Canterbury stood surrounded by a small group of important people. Holding the infant princess in his arms, the archbishop asked the baby’s name.
Finally the prince regent spoke up. “Alexandrina,” he said, adding that he would not permit his name to be used. The baby’s mother began to weep, and her father grew red in the face. The prince regent glared at the parents and then agreed that the infant should have her mother’s name, but it must not come before the Tsar’s.
The archbishop poured water over the baby’s head and named her Alexandrina Victoria. The baby’s nurse shortened her name, calling her Drina. When she was a few years old, the little princess insisted that she be called Victoria. From then on, she was Princess Victoria.
Family Tragedy
The duke of Kent decided it would be healthier for his wife and daughter to spend the winter by the sea. He and his equerry, Captain Conroy, traveled to Devonshire on the south coast of England and settled on a house in the village of Sidmouth.
The duke’s household moved to Sidmouth on Christmas Day in the midst of a fierce snowstorm. The rooms were small and dark and very cold, and the wind blowing off the sea rattled the windows. The duke fell ill, and on January 23, 1820, he died, leaving his wife saddled with debt. The duchess’s brother, Leopold, came to her rescue and helped move the household back to Kensington Palace. Days later King George III died, and the prince regent ascended the throne as King George IV.
The Advisor
The duchess of Kent, widowed for the second time, had little money and spoke no English. She needed help with her day-to-day affairs, and her late husband’s equerry was only too ready to advise her. John Conroy, a Welshman of Irish ancestry, had made a military career, married a general’s daughter, and fathered six children. A handsome man of great charm and even greater ambition, he induced the distraught duchess to name him her comptroller, placing him officially in charge of her financial matters.
In time, King George IV was persuaded to create Conroy a knight, and the captain became Sir John.
The Governess
Louise Lehzen was Princess Feodore’s governess and accompanied the duke and duchess of Kent on their journey to Kensington. After Feodore no longer needed her, Lehzen became governess to Princess Victoria, who began to call her Daisy.
The governess to a member of the royal family was usually herself of noble birth, but Lehzen was of humble background, the unmarried daughter of a Lutheran minister. When the duchess of Kent’s older sister, Queen Antoinette of Württemberg, came to visit, she refused sit at the same table as Lehzen, who was seated there with Victoria. To give Lehzen the proper rank, King George IV agreed to create Lehzen a baroness of Hanover in Germany; in addition to being king of England, he also held the title King of Hanover.
But Sir John Conroy never let Baroness Lehzen forget that she was a foreigner, her title was foreign, and she still had no rank in England.
Lord Melbourne
William Lamb, later to become Lord Melbourne, married Lady Caroline Ponsonby when she was nineteen and he was twenty-six. The marriage at first was an extremely happy one. But Lamb was ambitious politically, and Lady Caroline, beautiful, talented, and well-educated, felt neglected. When she was twenty-seven, she had an affair with Lord Byron, the famous poet. They made no attempt to keep their relationship a secret. The poet tired of Caroline after a few months and broke off the affair, going on to attachments with other women. Caroline continued to pursue Byron, creating a scandal. Lamb, ever the gentleman, took his wife to Ireland, hoping she would forget Byron.
Even after William and Caroline Lamb had separated, he stood by his wife through years of mental instability and declining health. He was by her side when she died in 1828. That same year, he inherited his father’s title as Viscount Melbourne and a seat in the House of Lords. King William IV appointed him prime minister, a position he held when Victoria became queen. She depended heavily on his guidance during the early years of her reign and regarded him as a father figure.
Prince Albert
Prince Albert was the son of E
rnest, duke of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha, elder brother of the duchess of Kent and King Leopold. Albert’s mother, Princess Louise, was sixteen when she married Ernest. They divorced when Albert was five years old; his mother eloped with an army captain who had been her husband’s stablemaster, and the duke forced her to leave her two children behind. She was prohibited from ever seeing her children again. Though Albert was raised by two affectionate grandmothers, his separation from his mother at an early age deeply affected him and probably made him a rather rigid and moralistic man.
Albert worked devotedly for years for his adopted country, but was not especially popular with the English people, whose dislike of foreigners, and especially Germans, turned them against him. Victoria’s wish to create him king consort was never realized, but after seventeen years as simply Prince Albert, he was titled “His Royal Highness the Prince Consort.”
Albert’s health suffered in the last two years of his life. He died at Windsor Castle on December 14, 1861, at the age of forty-two, with his beloved wife and five of their children by his bedside. The illness that caused his death, originally thought to be typhoid fever, is not definitely known and may have been attributable to other diseases.
Queen Victoria lived for another thirty-nine years. When she died at age eighty-one on January 22, 1901, she had ruled the British Empire for nearly sixty-three years and seven months. She was succeeded by her son, Bertie, who ruled as Edward VII.
TIMELINE
1817—Princess Charlotte, daughter of King George IV, dies, leaving English succession open
1818—Edward, duke of Kent, marries German widow Princess Victoire, mother of Charles and Feodore (called Fidi); family moves to Kensington, England
1819—On May 24, a daughter is born; on June 24, christened Alexandrina Victoria
1820—On January 23, the duke of Kent dies; his equerry, Captain John Conroy, becomes advisor to the duchess of Kent, Victoria’s mother
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