Виктория Холт - The Captive of Kensington Palace

It was said that young ladies imagined they would be at once married … when the Bill was passed; schoolboys believed that grammar would be abolished; poets believed that the public would clamour for their works; soldiers would receive double their pay; and the price of pies and cakes would be halved … all that was needed to bring about this miracle was that the Bill should become law.

The Bill was discussed in every tavern by many who did not understand a word of it. To them it was merely the key to paradise on Earth.

If Wellington formed a new Tory government opposed to the Bill it would be the sign for the mob to march. There was not a politician who did not know this, and Wellington’s plan was to bring in a new Bill – a Reform Bill yes, but a modified one. Even this would not do; and because there was not a man among them who did not realise that a change of government at that time would mean that the people would rise, it was impossible for Wellington to form a government.

The Bill must be passed; and since the King would not create the necessary peers to pass it through the Lords, those peers who would not vote for it must abstain from voting at all. It was the only way to pass the Bill.

So … with London ready to rise and destroy the existing regime which would not bring about reform, the Bill was again presented. Breathlessly people waited for the result. In the House of Lords it was put to the vote. As the members of that House were aware of what would happen if the Bill was rejected, the Tory benches were half empty. So those who opposed, refrained from voting and on June 4th of that year 1832 the Reform Bill was passed.

* * *

Adelaide was terrified, expecting revolution at any moment. The King tried to soothe her. ‘Devil take them all,’ he said. ‘By God, if I hear the word Reform again I shall never speak to the man who says it.’

He refused to give his assent in person, which was foolish as this was only a matter of form, and royal confirmation was given by the commission.

London was jubilant; there was carousing in the streets and bonfires at every corner.

Reform was coming. Now all they had to do was wait for the miracle.

The King had refused his personal assent. Then the King was no friend of the people. It was not his fault at all; it was that German Queen of his. She was the real villainess. But Billy should be taught a lesson.

When William drove through the streets on his way to dissolve Parliament, the people refused to take off their hats; they came close to his coach and jeered at him. Silly Billy, who did what his wicked wife told him. He had been against Reform.

William was unperturbed. He had faced death during his life at sea and he lacked the imagination to worry about the harm an angry mob might do to him.

He was annoyed by these people who no longer loved him. They were threatening him; they would start throwing stones in a moment. Adelaide seated beside him was trembling. Poor Adelaide, she didn’t understand these people. They wouldn’t really harm him; they were just an ill-mannered crowd.

To show his contempt for them he leaned out of the window and spat at them.

This unkingly act had such an effect on the crowd that it fell back in amazement. A king to spit on his subjects! The mob could spit; it was a common habit of the lower orders, but for a king to do so … was unheard of.

They could think of nothing to say or do; and then a voice was distinctly heard to say: ‘George IV would never have done that. George IV always remembered that he was a king.’

And by that time the royal coach had driven on.

The King was on his way to dissolve Parliament. And what did it matter? The Reform Bill was passed.

The Duchess of Kent was discussing with Sir John Conroy the new arrival to her household.

‘Of very good family,’ she said. ‘The eldest daughter of the first Marquis of Hastings and second Earl of Moira.’ The Duchess was knowledgeable about the family connections of those who served her, as, she assured herself, one needed to be when these people would live under the same roof as the future Queen. ‘The Marquis you know made quite a name for himself in the Army and he was a friend of the late King. So I think Flora will be quite suitable.’

Sir John Conroy agreed with the Duchess that this was so.

‘And since it is the King’s wish that Victoria should meet more people, I do not see why this should not be achieved in her own household.’

‘There is no reason at all.’

‘Lady Flora is not exactly young. She is twenty-six years of age and serious.’

‘And an excellent addition to the household!’

‘She knows that although she is a member of my retinue her main duty is to accompany Victoria.’

‘And how does Victoria like her?’

‘You know the child. She is overflowing with affection. She really must practise a little restraint.’

‘She does not overflow for all,’ said Sir John, smiling not very pleasantly as he recalled the Princess’s coolness towards himself. The Duchess sighed. She understood. Victoria could be difficult. She, too, was aware of her daughter’s coldness not only towards Sir John. Sometimes she could believe that the child was critical of her own Mamma – but this, of course, could not be possible. The Duchess felt sure that Victoria must love and admire her unquestioningly.

‘I cannot think where she gets her ideas,’ she said vaguely.

‘The Princess is aware of her destiny,’ replied Sir John. ‘So I suppose a little arrogance must be forgiven now and then.’

‘But not in her own home,’ declared the Duchess. ‘She must be guided and I believe that Lady Flora will have a good influence.’

‘A mild one, at any rate,’ said Sir John. ‘As usual, my dearest Duchess has chosen wisely.’

‘I will send for Victoria and ask how she likes her new companion.’

Victoria came and immediately felt embarrassed as she always did when in the presence of her mother and Sir John.

‘Oh, Victoria. Do stand up straight, child. You will be like the Princess Charlotte if you do not. She had to have one pocket loaded with heavy stones to stop her from being lopsided. How would you like that?’

‘I daresay it would be no worse, Mamma, than having a piece of holly tied round one’s neck to make one hold one’s chin up.’

‘Aha!’ said the Duchess. ‘You should be grateful, should she not, Sir John, to have a Mamma who cared so much for you to walk straight that she devised such plans.’

Victoria touched her chin recalling the jabs she had received from the branches of holly. She would never see the plant without remembering that particular discipline of her youth.

Yes, thought the Duchess, Victoria was becoming a little arrogant. She would have to be persuaded to be otherwise. It was difficult to remind her that she would soon be a Queen at one moment and then the next to teach her to be humble.

What a task! sighed the Duchess inwardly; and then remembered that she had dear Sir John to help her.

‘Victoria, I trust you will find the company of Lady Flora congenial. She is of very good family and suited to her new post. I have made sure of that.’

‘Yes, Mamma, I do like Lady Flora.’

The Duchess folded her hands together and with the pious expression of one who has done her duty added: ‘Perhaps that will satisfy His Majesty.’ She spoke the title with a touch of contempt which was of course not directed towards that but to the man who now bore it.

Victoria was thinking that Lady Flora was friendly enough and pleasant in her way, but old. Why could she not have young people about her, and of the opposite sex at that? They were so much more interesting, she thought. She fancied she liked a little flirtation. And what boys did she ever see other than Sir John’s young sons? And the only companions of her own age were Victoire and Jane Conroy.

There is too much Conroy in this household, she thought.

‘Sir John believes you should undertake some journeys,’ the Duchess was saying.

‘Journeys, Mamma?’

‘That you should travel a little.’

‘To the sea?’ Victoria’s eyes began to sparkle. How she loved the sea!

‘The sea and the countryside as well. It is fitting that you should know something of the kingdom you are to rule.’

‘Oh, Mamma, I should enjoy these journeys.’

The Duchess smiled. ‘You must not think of them as pleasure only, although I am convinced that you will derive some enjoyment from them. You will know that you are doing your duty, and that is always – or should be – a source of pleasure. Sir John and I have decided that you shall pay a round of visits. We are now deciding when you shall start and where you shall go.’

‘Oh, Mamma, who will come with me?’

‘You need not fear that I and Sir John will not accompany you.’

Victoria tried to compose her features so that she did not show her disappointment. Journeys had sounded so exciting. She had pictured herself visiting the King and the Queen, and perhaps sharing in Aunt Adelaide’s parties. But it was to be different from that. She was to travel with Mamma and Sir John, which meant of course that they would not be visiting the King and Queen.

‘You will hear more of this later,’ said the Duchess. ‘In the meantime I have a present for you.’

‘Oh, Mamma, how exciting!’

‘I hope you will appreciate it.’

The Duchess went to a table and picked up a leather-bound book.