Victoria (9 page)

5 November

Riding with Lehzen, Grampion, Lady Cowper. Happened to encounter Aunt Adelaide with Lord Paget and Georgie Cumberland, and Aunt's footman, Tomthorne. We rode two and two, Aunt and Lady Cowper, Lord Paget and Lehzen, Georgie and myself, and Grampion and Tomthorne.

Georgie says our Uncle King will die soon. They all speak of it at Windsor and do not even whisper, he says, for His Majesty does not hear or see well or much care anymore. Except that now everyone must tell him all the time how they love his glorious accomplishments.

“And then, it's Sailor Bill of Clarence who will be king. Aunt Adelaide will be Her Majesty the Queen, and I'll be her favourite, because you remind her of her dead baby girl,” Georgie said.

I was about out of my mind, he is so horrid!

“You'd make an awful Queen, you would,” he went on, knowing none of the grown-ups were listening. “Uncle William's sixty-four years old, he can't last. My father's only fifty-nine. He'll outlast old Admiral Pineapple-head, see if he doesn't.”

I didn't say that my Papa was only fifty-three, younger than the rest, and the healthiest one in the family, and he didn't outlast them. Fate is in Our Lord's hands, as the Reverend Mr Davys says.

It seems to me, Georgie is the sort who will have a great number of boys wanting to knock him down for what he says. I am surprised his father doesn't do it, he has such a violent temper.

But our talk was ended then, for a band of schoolboys set off a string of Chinese firecrackers nearby. My poor Rosa took fright and sped right off the bridle path and across the grass there, which was still frosty in the shade under the beech trees. Rosa stayed away from the low branches and in the sun. I was glad for the gallop, only Lehzen was quite white in the face when they all caught up with me.

When we got home and I changed out of my riding suit and boots, I found I had a bruise inside my knee where it hooks over the pommel of my side saddle.

I told Lehzen all of what Georgie had said about Uncle King and Uncle William. She said he was quite improper to speak so. She said I should remember he is younger than I am, and a naughty boy.

6 November

I miss Baroness de Spaeth.

I deplore my own Mother's behaviour.

I shall never trust Captain Conroy, not ever more.

Lehzen is as nervous as a cat about my writing, and so I must be v cautious from now on, even more than before.

Mamma is planning a brilliant dinner party for next month. Lehzen and I dressed dolls as ladies to attend. We made up names for them: Apollonia, Countess Delaville; Juno, Duchess of Durham; Rebekah, Duchess of Mountjoy; and Lady Nina Morton. It is a relief to whisper about dolls, rather than real persons. The Countess Delaville, we decided, has been married three times, and she is divinely happy this time, at last. Her husband, the Count, is a very superior individual. The match was also advantageous to her children's prospects.

8 December

Mamma
will
have a holiday dinner party, although everyone is still so shocked about poor dear de Spaeth, travelling at such a time of year. I can only remember the last party and how terribly it turned out. My stomach churns at the thought it could happen again. If I pay attention to how things go, perhaps I can make sure it stays amusing for everyone so there'll be no trouble.

I wonder if Uncle Leopold will come to dinner. He has been saying little to Mamma these last few months. They are at odds about de Spaeth and about Greece.

I told Toire I had a headache. It was the truth. My head ached from hearing her make a Remark about Uncle Leopold dying his hair black so he will look like the Greek god Jove to the people of Athens.

9 December

Mamma's dinner was a great success. We had six Princesses, two Princes, and three Ambassadors. However, not Uncle Leopold.

We had bisque marine with chervil and lemon, salmi of pheasant and grouse, roast beef with mustard sauce, baked apples, and brandy pudding with hard sauce. Also a lot of dishes I did not eat, for they consisted of sprouts, cabbage, kale, and all that I am not fond of. There were no caraway seeds, alas. Seeds are not the fashion.

Captain Conroy did not drink too much, I am happy to say.

29 December

The close of the year. Lehzen says I should be keeping a careful record, if a record I am keeping. I think she is correct. She frequently is, because she thinks as well as listens so much of the time while others are speaking.

Christmas dinner at Claremont, thanks be to heaven. It was
so jolly
. I gave everyone a good gift. I will list them later, if I have time. Here is what they gave me, and I must write letters of thanks:

Feo and Ernest sent me baby house furniture – a whole library with globes and bookcases, a leather armchair and oak table, and a tiny Latin dictionary an inch and a half square with a brass clasp.

Charles sent me a toy called a Thaumatrope. When it spins, you see a picture of a parrot go onto the picture of a perch, and the wig flies off a bald man's head, or back onto his head, if you spin it backward. It has a great number of picture pairs that combine in this droll fashion.

Uncle Leopold gave me two more pearls for my necklace, and Uncle Sussex gave me one. Uncle Sussex gave me a volume of poetry,
The Parliament of Fowles
by Geoffrey Chaucer. Uncle Leopold gave me a mechanistical monkey dressed as a Persian magician. The monkey's eyes roll and he waves his wand while a music box in the base plays “Turkish Rondo”.

Lehzen gave me many, MANY Juvenile Theatre character sheets to paint, as well as scripts for
The Casket of Gloriana
, also,
The Fairy of the Oak
, or
Harlequin's Regatta
, and
Beauty and the Beast
(as performed by the Royal Coburg Theatre).

Stocky gave me a clever bank of cast metal, a soldier that shoots a sixpence or a penny at a bear. The bear's mouth and the soldier's jacket are painted red. The soldier reminds me of Charles's toy soldiers, which have my Papa's among them as well as his Papa's. Charles has them with him in Leiningen, I believe. I wish they were only packed away here at Kensington. I should like to play with them sometimes.

Mamma gave me a v VERY PRETTY Italian wax doll with REAL hair and eyes that can be opened and closed with a little wire on her back that sticks out through her dress, which is pink silk with rosettes. I am not sure what I should name her.

Mr Westall gave me a watercolour his father brought back from Australia. It is of a sort of marsupial squirrel, v darling and quaint. The picture is in a fine little mahogany frame. I know Mr Westall must treasure his Father's work, and so I am v moved by this gift.

I gave Mr Westall three of my best pieces. The sketch of himself is for him to give to his dear sister, who has not been well. The view of Hampstead is for him to keep, because he will be amused when he remembers the day we worked on it. And the painting of Hagar and Ishmael is for him to send to the Bible Society in Auckland. I signed it
Princess Victoria delineavit Kensington Palace
. That means that I drew it. Mr Westall says the Society will hold a lottery and sell my painting to raise funds for their support. I think that is v clever.

Later

Wassailers came a-caroling from Esher, and Uncle had them in and gave them rum punch and lamb's wool, which is hot, spiced ale and wine frothed up with mashed apples. They sang six-part harmony on some carols.

We had consommé royale with custard cubes, served up in my Princess Aunt Lottie's great silver tureen, which I admired. Also, roast goose with chestnut and sausage dressing, as well as roast beef and Yorkshire pudding, and fig cake, and mince pies, and I don't know what all. I had hazelnuts, sugared and gilded, marzipan pigs, and striped peppermint drops.

30 December

Toire and O'Hum went to Bishop Fisher's at Salisbury to celebrate with their own family.

14 January 18
30

How strange it is to write the year. I almost had it wrong. That is why that X is there.

O'Hum and Toire are here again. Their gift to me is a buffalo-hide riding crop that I shall NOT use on Rosa, EVER.

16 January

At breakfast this morning, Mamma gave me my Christmas gifts from my Uncle King and from Uncle Billy and Aunt Adelaide.

Uncle King sent me a fan with mother-of-pearl sticks and a painted silk scene with tiny silver sequins stitched to it. His note says it is for the opera, and he hopes I will think of him.

Aunt Adelaide and Uncle Billy sent me baby house furniture, just like Feo. But they sent a music room, with a cunning little piano with real ivory keys and a gilded harp.

Lehzen was v distressed that I could not send them my thank-you letters sooner. But I think Mamma was anxious that Captain Conroy see me open the gifts on his return after Christmas.

Madame Bourdin said to the Reverend Mr Davys that Captain Conroy advised Mamma not to permit me to open my gifts until he was there. She heard him say it before everyone went home for Christmas. She asked if that is the same as interfering with a message from His Majesty.

Mr Davys is of a milder temperament than Madame Bourdin. He said Mamma knows what she means to do, and she does so. “And after all … harrumph … Christmas has twelve days.”

I wanted to say, Christmas has not twenty-two days, though, has it? That is how long I've had to wait.

But I have written my notes now, worded exactly as Mamma and Captain Conroy thought right. Lehzen sent the letters out.

25 January

V cold in the rooms out of the sun. The wind is damp in the chimneys and stifles the fires. I was sitting on Mamma's dressing table bench for Mrs MacLeod to come and do my hair. Lehzen was in the window seat. We had sent for Lutie to put the fire to rights.

I saw there was a letter that had not burned up, which was caught on the grate, and I honestly did not know if it had been tossed there on purpose, so I took it up and glanced at it. Not meaning to read it, truly, but how could I not when I saw what it was?

It was from Aunt Adelaide. She counsels Mamma not to take so much advice from Captain Conroy, for he does not know the way things ought to be done, she says. Mamma must let me have other friends besides his family – for I might be a queen in the future!

That's all I saw, Feo, but I saw it. I dropped the letter then, and Lutie came and kindled the fire with it.

But, Feo, I wish my dear aunt would not say such a thing. It must be very painful for her to think so. I could only be queen if Aunt Adelaide has no child, and she probably will. Or if Uncle Cumberland and Georgie and my cousins all were to die first, for my Duke Papa was younger than his brothers, except Uncle Cambridge, I think. Uncle Cambridge is the Governor-General of Hanover, since my Uncle King is Elector but cannot live there and do the governing every day. My cousin George of Cambridge is the same age as Georgie Cumberland and I – I mean, I am in the middle, but we were born the same year. Even supposing I were to rise so high, it would be so far in the future, it scarcely bears thinking of
now
.

Aunt Soap says she's certain, since Uncle Cumberland was in battle, and is “off” sometimes, we owe it to patriotism to be tolerant of him. But I am glad Uncle Billy is older than Uncle Cumberland, and I am glad Aunt Adelaide is a good, young duchess, and will probably have a darling baby soon, and surely a healthy one this time. I do not like to think of Uncle Cumberland as King.

I am sleepy. There are too many things to think of these days. I said that to Uncle Leopold and he said he understood what I meant by it.

10 February

Shall I ever see dear de Spaeth again? It is so unbearable to think one can never be with someone for whom one has such natural affection.

Indeed, I envy her being with you, Feo.

16 February

Uncle Sussex's birthday. He had a literary evening, which he prefers to a party. He did end up singing Scotch songs at the piano with his children Captain Augustus and Miss d'Este. His voice is quite as splendid as the opera.

I gave him my drawing of “Cornelia and the Gracchi”, which I did from an etching of an ancient Roman family.

Uncle was entertained by my sending my Old Testament biblical picture, “Hagar and Ishmael”, to New Zealand. He knows a fellow at the American embassy, who undertakes to get me an autograph from Fenimore Cooper, the author of
The Last of the Mohicans
. In exchange, I will send Uncle's friend my painting, “View of the Serpentine in Autumn”. I am v pleased.

I wish someone would take me to see the wild animal tamer and charmer of deadly cobras that Captain d'Este saw at Astley's Amphitheatre. It sounds v amusing and informational. An animal trainer must be brave not to be always thinking he may be eaten at any time.

17 February

Mamma remarks that my Uncle King's health lately has been sinking fast. All of us children of his family line must have official guardians voted on by Parliament sometime, I take it. If a grown-up King is too ill to rule, as Grandfather George III was when he was old, there must be a guardian called a Regent to rule for him. And if the next heir is not old enough to rule, there would have to be a Regent the nation could trust.

According to all Mamma hears, it would be prudent to have my educational progress approved before poor Uncle King grows any worse. That would prove the Kensington System according to which I am being taught is a good one. O'Hum is afraid Uncle King might say Mamma has not taught me in the proper English style. He says His Majesty might take it into his head to put it in his will that Uncle Cumberland should be my guardian, or Uncle Cambridge.
They
would not do things O'Hum's way, as Mamma does! Mamma and O'Hum insist she is best to be my Regent. The better to guard my interests in England – that is how she explains it to me. That ought to count for something with His Majesty.

Oh, fie. I think Mamma is worrying over nothing. Who would take a child from the care of her mother? What stuff!