Adelaide wanted to know how young George was.
‘He is unchanged,’ said his father; and the Queen’s eyes filled with tears.
‘Is there nothing that can be done?’
‘If Graefe can do nothing, nobody can.’
‘Poor, poor George! I know how the Duchess suffers.’
Cumberland thought: This is not like a royal court. William has no idea of kingliness and Adelaide is too domesticated. She means well but what a travesty of royalty.
He began to think of how different it would be when he was King. It was so easy to enrage the people. They hated Adelaide already. If he could make them believe that there was a danger of that poor old dotard William’s turning Catholic, his coup would succeed in a few days – weeks at the most. As for Victoria … she might be agreeable to stand aside. What did a chit of a girl want with a throne?
The King said it was time to go in to dinner and in his usual informal way he went among his guests exchanging greetings with them as though he were some country squire rather than the Sovereign of a great country.
Surely, thought Cumberland, these people must be laughing at him behind his back. Surely they would be pleased to see a real monarch on the throne.
After the meal, Ernest as the King’s brother proposed the royal toast. He noticed that those assembled drank it without a great deal of enthusiasm. This made Ernest daring. He would make an experiment; he would see what the reaction would be.
He rose and raising his glass cried in a loud voice: ‘The King’s heir, God bless him.’
William stared at him, his face growing red with sudden anger. He had heard the rumours; he knew what an ambitious man his brother Cumberland was. Did he think he was going to do away with tradition? Did he think that he was going to sweep away the true heir to the throne? William could not abide the Duchess of Kent; in fact he hated the woman more than he hated anyone; but that did not mean that her daughter was not the rightful heir.
He stood up and lifting his glass and glaring at his brother he cried: ‘The King’s heir, God bless her.’
For a few dramatic seconds the two brothers stared at each other. Cumberland was very well aware that the company was with the King, and that he had committed a major error in betraying his ambitions so blatantly.
* * *
This affair of Cumberland’s toast was widely discussed in political and Court circles.
The Duchess realised that her husband had once more through his impetuous conduct spoiled his own game. So it had been when he had set rumours in motion about Victoria’s health. It had been so easy to refute these by parading the child. If he had wished to woo the public he should not have accumulated such a fearful reputation, so that the world was ready to believe the worst of him.
What did Cumberland mean by such a toast? The King’s heir, God bless him. It could only mean one thing – that he believed that the Princess Victoria was either going to die or be deposed. This was a man who had been suspected of murder. What did it mean?
A certain Joseph Hume, a careful Scotsman who had risen from somewhat humble origins – his mother had kept a crockery stall in Montrose – and who was a man of great energy and determination, decided that this was a good opportunity to attack the Orange Society. Hume, whose mother’s hard work had enabled him to become a surgeon, had later gone into Parliament and had called attention to himself by exposing abuses.
He had long been aware that the Orange Lodges were a menace, and considering the association of the Duke of Cumberland with them he believed that they were to be used in an endeavour to change the succession. He decided to raise a question in the House of Commons regarding the purpose of the Orange Lodges and the Duke of Cumberland’s connection with them.
So once again the Duke’s hasty action had foiled his own plans.
He immediately capitulated. He declared that the rumours concerning him and his motives were entirely false. He had never thought of changing the succession. Such a thing, he declared, was impossible. He could not understand how such rumours had started.
Shoulders were shrugged. They knew their Duke. Was he not the Grand Master of the Orange Lodges?
‘No longer,’ he declared, ‘for I have resigned that post.’
The Government decided that as a safety measure the Orange Lodges should be disbanded; and to show his innocence no one was more indefatigable in bringing about their dissolution than His Grace of Cumberland.
Frederica sighed. How much wiser, she thought, to resign oneself. He would in due course be King of Hanover. She would be rather pleased to go back to Germany; and their dear blind boy would follow his father on that throne. Life would be more peaceful; Ernest would enjoy it more when he had ceased to scheme for something which could not be his.
Chapter XVIII
SOME COBURG COUSINS
How pleasant it was to be back in Kensington and well enough to return to the well-tried routine.
‘I so missed the times when my hair was being done and we did our reading,’ said Victoria. ‘Oh dear, what a lot of time I have wasted.’
‘You can soon catch up on your reading,’ soothed Lehzen, ‘and if you do all Dr Clark and I tell you you will soon be strong again.’
‘And my hair will grow thick and my cheeks pink again,’ said Victoria with a smile. ‘And it will be wonderful to go to the opera again and perhaps see a play. I am longing to go back to my own singing lessons.’
‘You know the doctor said you were not to strain yourself.’
‘I know, but I believe that pleasure is good for the health and singing gives me pleasure.’
Lehzen smiled and Victoria picked up the Irish history from which she was reading aloud.
Later that day the Duchess sent for her; she was in a very good mood, Victoria noticed.
‘I have here a letter from your Uncle Leopold.’
Victoria’s eyes shone at the mention of that beloved name.
‘We’re to have visitors. Your Uncle Ferdinand is coming to stay with us and he is bringing his two sons with him. Your cousin Ferdinand is on his way to Lisbon.’
‘I know that he is betrothed to the Queen of Portugal. How strange, Mamma. She is about my age and she is already a widow.’
‘You would not surely wish to be the same.’
Victoria laughed at the idea, and then she was serious. ‘Oh no, but I suppose I might think that I may soon be a wife.’
‘It is something you will be made aware of when the time comes.’ Victoria looked a little sullen and the Duchess went on: ‘I am sure your Uncle Leopold would say the same.’
At the mention of his name the sullen look passed as the Duchess knew it would. It was a little exasperating that after all she had done she must come after Leopold. Of course she trusted Leopold to look after the family affairs – but this adoration for him was a little childish. Sir John had said that Victoria was apt to be a little too whole-hearted in her devotion to some and her dislike of others. It must be watched.
‘We shall entertain my brother Ferdinand and his two sons. I am sure you will like Ferdinand and Augustus and be a good hostess to them.’
‘Oh yes, Mamma, I shall do my best; and I know I shall love them as I did my Württemberg cousins.’
‘There is a letter for you from your uncle.’
‘Oh, thank you, Mamma.’
‘Are you not going to open it?’
‘I think I will read it in my sitting-room.’
The Duchess frowned but said nothing and Victoria went out clutching the letter to where Lehzen was waiting to conduct her to her sitting-room.
She opened the letter with that slight tremor of the hands which the dear handwriting always aroused in her. As usual Uncle Leopold assured her of his undying devotion to his ‘dear soul’. He wanted her to like her cousins who would be shortly paying her a visit. They were charming young men; she would find them both good-looking and clever. They were a little ‘new in the world’. New in the world! what a wonderfu
l expression and how apt and how like Uncle Leopold to explain so exactly that she understood immediately. They were not worldly young men; she was glad of that; she would like them the better for it.
Uncle Leopold went on to say that he hoped she would have a visit from two more cousins very shortly. These she would admire even more. He was sure of it because he knew his dear little soul. He wanted her to like these two Coburg cousins even better than Ferdinand and Augustus whom of course she would like very much. Ernest and Albert would be coming later in the year. Uncle Leopold was very fond of them and he naturally wanted her to be the same. He hoped she would like Albert particularly.
Of course she would. She was determined to like whomsoever Uncle Leopold wished her to.
* * *
The Saxe-Coburg cousins, Ferdinand and Augustus, arrived with their father Ferdinand, and how charming they were and how exciting it was to have such guests! There was so much to show them, so much to talk about and how attentive they were to their young cousin!
Victoria loved her Uncle Ferdinand; with her father’s relations there always seemed to be some conflict, but this was not so with the Duchess’s family. All was harmony and the Duchess herself softened considerably in their company. They were so proud of her because of the grand marriage she had made and the Duchess was pleased with herself too while she seemed to dislike or despise almost every member of the family into which she had married.
But Victoria was delighted with her German relations. How amusing the young men were with their German accents and their habit of shaking hands every time one met. They thought her clever and pretty and charming, so how could she help loving them?
Besides they so admired Uncle Leopold and they saw a great deal of him and Aunt Louise. Ferdinand admitted that he loved Aunt Louise very much and that Uncle Leopold had been so wonderful to him teaching him how to be a good King when he reached Portugal and even laying down a set of rules for him.
‘Uncle Leopold,’ cried Victoria glowing with pride and happiness, ‘is the wisest and most noble of Kings. Belgium was a poor little country when he took it over. Now it is of great consequence. He is an example to all. Oh, how lucky we are to have him.’
Augustus said that when he next saw Uncle Leopold he would tell him what Victoria had said.
‘My great regret,’ she went on, ‘is that I cannot be often in his company. His recent visit was so very short that the pain of losing him almost equalled the pleasure in seeing him – not quite, that is, for it was wonderful to see his dear face again.’
They were such happy days; everyone was gay and seemed to love each other, and Victoria, whose young heart was so eager to love all her dear relations, to help the poor, to be kind and good was happier than she had been for a long time.
There came an invitation for the Duchess to bring their relations to Windsor.
Oh dear, thought Victoria, I do hope everything is going to be all right. Aunt Adelaide is so kind and so is the King; and yet the thought of a visit to the royal household filled her with apprehension.
* * *
Adelaide was worried about the King. He was very breathless and seemed to be suffering from more than his usual asthma. What worried her most, of course, was his peculiar behaviour. She was always terrified that he was going to say something outrageous to some important person and that it would be reported and get into the papers. He never seemed to think before he spoke; he often rambled on, and he would not give up the distressing habit of making long speeches. The disrespectful press delighted in caricaturing him – always with the same-shaped head which had been likened to a pineapple. ‘What could one expect from a man with a head like a pineapple,’ commented one anonymous writer. Although others compared the head with an egg – an addled one at that.
There were the dear grandchildren to comfort him. Thank God for them! thought Adelaide. He would listen to their childish troubles as though they were important matters of state and they did much for him. When they lived simply, shut away from affairs, William was like a normal grandfather – getting on in years, it was true, a little feeble, a little inclined to sudden bursts of anger, but on the whole an ordinary man.
On one occasion he said: ‘Adelaide, how I wish we could get away somewhere in the country … you … myself … and the babies!’
Adelaide wished it too.
If only his children would be kinder to him! Who would have believed that Dorothy Jordan’s sons could be so cruel and so acquisitive. It was not as though William had ever attempted to disown them; he had given them honours, but the more they had the more they seemed to want. Unnatural children indeed. George FitzClarence, the Earl of Munster, would not come to see his father because he considered he had been badly treated. Monster would be a better name than Munster, someone had said, and Adelaide was inclined to think there was something in this.
The King was very sad because he loved George dearly; he was constantly telling Adelaide how proud he and Dorothy had been of their eldest son. ‘What a little rascal, eh?’ cried William. ‘I taught him how to use his fists when he was two. Dorothy doted on him. He was a good boy to her, too. It’s since I’ve been King that everything has gone wrong.’
Adelaide did her best to soothe him.
Lord Frederick FitzClarence was another son who had actually written abusively to his father in such terms, the King’s secretary confided to the Queen, that he had decided against showing the letter to His Majesty and had answered it himself, for he feared that it could serve no useful purpose and would only upset the King when he was in one of his less healthful phases.
There were complaints also from Lord Augustus FitzClarence who declared that the King did more for others than for his own sons.
The daughters were kinder, particularly Sophia who had become Lady de l’Isle and Dudley. She with her family was constantly in the King’s company and gave a great deal of comfort to him. She was one of the few FitzClarences who were kind to Adelaide and the King was very fond of her. She had come to Windsor when Adelaide had left for her Continental trip and William declared he did not know what he would have done without her. But he mourned for the unkindness of his sons.
The Queen said to him, ‘Ferdinand has his two sons at Kensington.’
‘I know. That young boy’s going to marry Maria de Gloria and be the King of Portugal. Leopold’s spreading his relations all over Europe.’
‘I think Leopold is a very shrewd politician.’
‘A cunning fellow. Can’t stand him. He never takes wine. Drinks water. I don’t want people drinking water at my table.’
‘No, but he does seem to have plans for the Saxe-Coburg family.’
‘H’m. And bringing these young nephews over now. You know what he’s after, don’t you? He wants Victoria to marry one of her German cousins. Well, she is not going to. She’s going to have George.’
‘I hope she will. George is such a darling.’
‘And all the time that woman does what she can to prevent their meeting.’
‘Well, Ferdinand is clearly not intended for her. I don’t know about Augustus; but I think it’s the other cousins Leopold has his eye on – Ernest and Albert.’
‘If he tries to bring those fellows over here I shall forbid them to enter the country.’
‘Oh, William, can you do that?’
The King’s eyes bulged. ‘I’m the King.’
It was better not to pursue that. ‘I suppose,’ said Adelaide, ‘that we must ask Ferdinand and his sons to Windsor.’
‘I don’t want them here.’
‘I know, William, but I believe it is expected of us. You forget sometimes how important your invitations are.’
‘You’re right, my dear. You always are. Let’s have them, but if that woman starts her capers in my Castle …’
‘We will try to make it an enjoyable visit.’
The King nodded dismally. ‘A pity we can’t ask Victoria without her mother and that man … I won’t have him in the
Castle, Adelaide. She can entertain her lover elsewhere.’
‘We are not sure that Conroy is her lover.’
‘N … no,’ agreed the King. ‘She’s a cold-hearted vixen.’
‘Well, I shall see that the invitations are sent out. It will be a very short visit.’
The King nodded and went off to finish his letter to George FitzClarence which he hoped would help to close the rift between them.‘My affection for yourself and all your brothers and sisters is, and ever will be, unaltered; and the only difference which has risen between you and me has been that you have not considered that I have a double duty to perform as King and father. Whenever you feel inclined to return to my roof, the Castle at Windsor, the Pavilion at Brighton and the Palace at St James’s will be opened to you and yours with perfect satisfaction on my part. God bless you, and I ever remain, dearest George,
Your most truly affectionate father,
William R.’
Adelaide was determined that the visit should not be marred by discord between the King and the Duchess. Ferdinand and Augustus were two charming young men and there was no difficulty about entertaining them. William received them kindly; and there was no doubt that he was delighted with Victoria. There was something so fresh about her, so affectionate that it was impossible not to be fond of her. The King wanted to make it very clear that his quarrel with Kensington did not extend to his young niece.
He took her hand and led her into dinner; the Duchess of Kent walked on the other side of him but he did not look at her. It was arranged that Victoria should sit between William and George Cambridge – which, Adelaide had said, will give the young people a chance to talk together and discover how very charming they are. It was also significant of the royal wishes.
Victoria liked George Cambridge, but she had known him for a long time and he was not as new and fascinating as her German cousins.
‘Are you looking forward to the ball, eh, my dear?’ asked the King.
‘Oh yes, Uncle William,’ cried Victoria. ‘I love to dance.’
The Captive of Kensington Palace Page 28