Victoria Confesses (9781442422469) (10 page)

When we returned to Kensington at the end of January 1835, a surprise awaited me. My sitting room had been freshly papered and newly furnished, even down to the carpets. Mamma's room,
too, had been redecorated. My bed was placed opposite hers.

I hid my disappointment and did not say what I was thinking:
Am I not yet old enough to have a bedroom of my own? I will soon be sixteen!

It would have been futile. I knew exactly what she would say:
It is for your own protection, Victoria. Your welfare is my chief concern. I am responsible, not only to you, but to the people of England. And to the memory of your dear father!

Suddenly I was VERY angry. If I voiced my real feelings, I would have been required to write a letter of apology. Of late my mother had begun to add a new burden.
Someday, my dear Victoria, my time on this earth shall come to an end, and you will no longer have your fond mother to look out for you. But I shall die knowing I have done all that I can for you, no matter what the sacrifice of my own desires.

My mother knew well how to use guilt to control me.

“You are pleased with our rooms, are you not, Victoria?” Mamma asked.

“Oh, yes, Mamma, very pleased,” I said, forcing a smile. “It looks very nice indeed—so fresh and clean.”

I went looking for Daisy, and my anger, held back for a long time, now spilled out.

“I suppose my room is very pretty,” I said. “But could I not have been consulted? I am not fond of yellow and I do not care much for green. Everyone knows that blue is my favorite and purple is my second favorite. Yet there is nothing but green and yellow, yellow and green, on walls and floor and furniture! But the worst is that my bed is
still
in my mother's bedroom. What does Mamma think could possibly happen to me if I were to sleep in a room of my own?”

I began to sob. Dearest Daisy reached for my hand. “You know that I have no influence here. Perhaps the time has come to speak of this honestly. Sir John despises me and always has, because he knows that I'm not taken in by his charming ways. Now he has brought Lady Flora into the household, and like your dear mamma she believes that he can do no wrong.”

“I hate him!” I cried, pulling away. “I shall always hate him!”

Daisy rose and put her arms round me, stroking my hair. “Lady Flora and your mamma are of one mind: They trust him completely. His every opinion is taken as gospel. I believe they're deceived, as are so many others. I see him as he really is—a man of unfettered ambition—and I don't trust him. He knows this, and he wishes to see the last of me. Lady Flora agrees with him.”

The issue of the new color scheme shrank in importance. “Surely he won't send you away—he couldn't be so cruel! He knows how much I care for you and how much I depend on you!”

“Precisely why he wants me gone.” She kissed my forehead. “Whether I go or stay, the day is coming when you will have as much blue and purple as you wish. Now, my dearest Victoria, I advise you to write to your uncle Leopold and keep him informed of what is happening here.”

“But Daisy, Mamma reads all my letters! I dare not criticize Sir John—Mamma will not allow it.” Then I had an idea. “But if I wrote it, perhaps you could post it for me. We would not tell Mamma.” Never before had I proposed going behind Mamma's back. But never before had I felt my situation at Kensington had reached such a wretchedly unhappy state. I held my breath, waiting for Lehzen's reply.

Daisy smoothed back a lock of my hair that had worked
loose from its pins. “If I did such a thing, I would be very disloyal to your dear mamma, whom I have known for a very long time,” she said. “I can't bring myself to do that. We will have to think of something else.”

Lady Flora and Sir John continued to beleaguer dear Daisy, making sarcastic comments, loud enough for her to hear, about her unfashionable clothes, mocking the way she spoke, laughing at her habit of chewing caraway seeds. Mamma no longer invited Baroness Lehzen to attend her many dinners. Now it was Lady Flora Hastings who held my hand as we descended the stairs, Lady Flora who sat near me at the table while my dearest friend ate alone in her room. It was Lady Flora who appeared, unasked, while I was dressing or my hair was doing, times when Daisy used to read to me and now had to quietly excuse herself and leave.

Sir John ordered Lehzen moved from her cozy bedroom near my sitting room to a gloomy space in another part of the palace. He pompously informed her that her small stipend was too generous and must be reduced, explaining, “Economies are necessary.”

I agonized about what to do. As it happened, I did not need to go behind my mother's back and write to Uncle Leopold. The duchess of Northumberland was a witness to the indignities being heaped upon the person I loved best. Lady Charlotte wrote to my sister, asking her to contact Leopold and implore him to help my poor dear Daisy.

If Daisy was aware of Lady Charlotte's efforts, she did not tell me. Fidi had already promised to write to our uncle, and I hoped she had. But it surely did not hurt to have Lady Charlotte
adding her voice to my pleas for help. Everyone, it seemed, conspired to keep me isolated and in ignorance, and I didn't learn of the duchess's letter until later. If Sir John and Mamma discovered that she had written to Fidi, it would be only a matter of weeks—even days—until Lady Charlotte and Daisy were gone, and I would have NO ONE.

My sixteenth birthday arrived, a VERY important milestone: In just two years I would come of age. I filled the entry in my journal that day with lofty promises to make the best possible progress in my lessons in preparation for what lay ahead. That was for Mamma's eyes. Secretly I vowed that, when that day finally came and I was at last of age, I would then answer chiefly TO MYSELF.

Mamma, who often seemed to have
no
understanding of what I truly valued, gave me a VERY exciting gift, a private concert to be performed at Kensington Palace. A program of arias from my favorite operas were sung by a quartet of my favorite singers: Luigi Lablache, the finest bass in England; Giulia Grisi, whose performance I had so greatly admired in
Anna Bolena
; Antonio Tamburini, the famous baritone; and Maria Malibran, the magnificent mezzo-soprano. It was
utterly delicious
! I
stayed up until after one o'clock, still too excited to close my eyes. From that night on, my fondest wish was to study singing with Signor Lablache, and Mamma agreed that it might someday be possible.

A few days later I traveled to Windsor with dearest Daisy and Lady Flora. After two and a half tedious hours shut up in a carriage with two ladies who were being excessively polite to each other, I was able to enjoy a delightful visit with my uncle and aunt. As a relief from the oppressive heat, we boarded the royal barge and sat under the green silk canopy while six oarsmen rowed us round the pretty lake. It was all VERY pleasant, but back at Kensington a barely concealed antagonism seemed to lurk round every corner and behind every door. I ignored it as well as I could.

It was Mamma's ardent wish, as well as mine, that I be confirmed in the Church of England by the Archbishop of Canterbury. But everything possible went awry in making the arrangements, one more distressing example of the ill feelings that existed between Mamma and King William.

Lady Charlotte, as my official governess, conveyed to Mamma the king's wishes concerning the date and time of the service. But Mamma resented Lady Charlotte and no longer trusted her, no doubt sensing her disapproval of Sir John. Instead of replying to the king through the duchess of Northumberland, as etiquette required, Mamma went around both of them and wrote directly to the archbishop.

According to Daisy, when Mamma treated Lady Charlotte rudely by ignoring her, King William sent a stern message reminding Mamma that she must use proper channels and was
on no account to contact the archbishop herself. But Mamma refused to obey the king's order.

“This was an insult to Lady Charlotte,” Daisy told me. “I believe your mamma and Sir John want to terminate her duties as your governess, but they're going about it in a way that is sure to infuriate the king. The duchess of Northumberland is one of the greatest ladies in England. She enjoys the friendship of both their majesties. Your mother is making a grave error.”

“Mamma refused to do as the king asked?” I asked. “How
could
she?”

“Your mother can be very stubborn,” Daisy reminded me. “Sometimes her stubbornness stands her in good stead, but this time it served only to make the king even angrier. I am told that he stomped through St. James's Palace roaring, ‘My niece the princess will not be confirmed in any of the royal chapels, and I shall so order the archbishop!' And that is what he did.”

I was aghast.
What has Mamma done?
“Have you spoken to my mother about this?” I asked, burying my head in my hands. “Is there to be no confirmation then?”

“I am no longer a person from whom your mother either seeks or accepts advice,” Daisy said, “but the archbishop himself intervened, and your mother has reversed herself. Your confirmation will be held at St. James's on the thirtieth of July. I'm certain it will be a lovely day.”

This was to be one of the most solemn and important events of my life, but I felt as though I were standing undefended in the middle of a field of battle with the advantage shifting almost hourly from one army to the other. Still, I attended to my duties: I studied the Book of Common Prayer and had intense conversations with Mr. Davys. My morning and evening prayers grew
longer and more impassioned. I was determined to become a true Christian, to do all I could to comfort my dear Mamma in all her grief, her trials and anxieties, and to become a dutiful and affectionate daughter to her. I wrote this in my journal—not just for Mamma's eyes, but because I truly meant it.

Perhaps it was my fault that Mamma seemed driven to such extremes in her dealings with King William and Queen Adelaide. She behaved this way not only with their majesties, but also with others whom I liked and admired—Lady Charlotte, for example, and dearest Daisy. The only one who remained in Mamma's full favor was Lady Flora Hastings, and the higher Lady Flora's star rose at Kensington, the more I turned away from her.

On the day of my confirmation, wearing a white lace dress and a white bonnet with a wreath of white roses, I drove to St. James's with Mamma and Daisy and Lady Flora. I tried to keep my thoughts on the religious significance of the day and shut out all else. But I could not avoid noticing that each time Lady Flora spoke to Daisy it was to disagree with her, and my thoughts turned angry again.

“Unusually warm today, is it not?” asked Daisy of no one in particular, fanning herself with a handkerchief.

“I find it quite pleasant, actually,” replied Lady Flora airily. “Perhaps you are overdressed, dear baroness. Or have applied an excessive amount of rouge,” she added.