‘She is her mother, dear,’ said Adelaide gently.

‘More’s the pity. I won’t have those young fellows here. They seem to forget I’m the King. Why should I have these foreigners in my kingdom when I have no wish to? They’re not going to be asked to Windsor. They’re not even coming to England.’

Lady de l’Isle and Dudley exchanged glances with the Queen. When he was in this mood it was better to let him work out his fury rather than frustrate him. Later, between them, they would persuade him that it would be a major affront to a foreign power to refuse the Princes of Saxe-Coburg admittance to England.

In his heart he knew it; but he was disappointed. He liked young people. He had no heir of his own body; he would have enjoyed fathering Victoria. He liked the girl. He wanted to have her here in his household like his daughter. That would have been pleasant. They could have been seen more together. The King and the heiress to the throne! It was what the people wanted; it was good for the Monarchy. But that woman at Kensington had spoilt everything.

He went on at length about his intended refusal to permit the landing in England of the Saxe-Coburg Princes. Victoria was going to have George Cambridge. A nicer boy there could not be. He would rather see her married to blind George Cumberland – a charming fellow if ever there was one and a boy who had overcome his handicap. Why shouldn’t he be the Queen’s consort? ‘No reason,’ said the King. ‘No reason at all.’

Then he laughed. ‘I’ve only got to live a little longer, Adelaide, and that child will be eighteen. Once she is, that mother of hers will have no power over her whatsoever. It’s clear what I’ve got to do. I’ve got to live till after Victoria’s eighteenth birthday.’

‘It’s only next year, William, and you’ve got years ahead of you.’

‘I’m a sick old man, Adelaide. But I am going to do everything in my power to foil that woman. She is never going to be Regent of this country. I am going to see Victoria Queen … then I’ll die. Not before.’

At length Adelaide succeeded in persuading him that he could not forbid the Saxe-Coburgs to come to England. He then devised another plan.

It made him laugh so much he almost choked.

‘I’ll tell you what I’ll do, Adelaide … and I’ve done it. I didn’t want you persuading me. You’re too good a woman, Adelaide. That Kent woman is a she-wolf and you’re too good to know it. Time and time again you’ve smoothed things over for her. I know. You’ve shielded her. You’ve kept me from knowing. That’s what you’ve done. Well, now I’ll tell you what I’ve done. I’ve invited the Prince of Orange and his son over. They’ll be here the same time as those Coburgs. That will put their German noses out of joint.’

‘But you don’t like the Oranges overmuch.’

‘But the Water Drinker will think I do. He’ll be in a panic. He’ll think young Orange has been brought over for Victoria.’

‘But it’s our George … George Cambridge who is to have Victoria.’

‘Of course it is. But let Leopold think it’s going to be young Orange. That’ll shake him. That’ll make him see that I won’t have him interfering in my Kingdom.’

So there was nothing the Queen could do. At least she had averted a major quarrel with the Saxe-Coburgs; and now she would do her best to entertain the Oranges without alienating the Saxe-Coburgs and the Duchess of Kent.


* * *

When Leopold heard that the Prince of Orange and his son had been invited to England he was furious. This was a double insult. There had always been an uneasy relationship between himself and the Prince of Orange, for Orange had been one of the Princess Charlotte’s suitors. She had rather brusquely jilted him and when Leopold arrived had fallen passionately in love with him. It was something which made Orange regard the King of the Belgians with a certain pique.

And to invite him at the same time as Leopold’s protégés were in England was, Leopold considered, an insult to himself.

Leopold had long decided that the husband for Victoria was Albert of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha. Albert was his protégé as Victoria was. Leopold’s great hobby was the guiding and directing of his young relations. He was not only a King but a maker of Kings and Queens. He had written a treatise on how to govern for young Ferdinand; he had tutored Victoria since she was a child; and he had been equally watchful of Albert.

Albert was three months younger than Victoria – a bagatelle, said Leopold. They were of an age.

Albert had taken to Leopold when he was a little fellow just over a year old. His enormous blue eyes had regarded his uncle with adoration; he had shown his pleasure to be near him and had constantly put his arms about his uncle’s neck and kissed him. This was gratifying to Leopold who greatly desired the adoration of the young members of his family.

After the divorce between Albert’s parents, Leopold had felt himself to be even more the boy’s guardian and had kept in constant touch with him as he had with Victoria. He was determined on a marriage between his nephew and niece; everything told him that they were ideally suited; moreover, they both turned to him naturally and that would mean that when Victoria was Queen and Albert her consort there would be no diversity of opinion between them, for they had both been brought up to trust and adore Uncle Leopold.

Some time before he had arranged for the cousins to meet, Leopold had sent his friend and physician, Baron Christian Friedrich von Stockmar, to Albert. Leopold trusted Stockmar more than any man he knew; and he wanted his opinion of Albert and for him to be with Albert to advise him in the difficult role which Leopold had chosen for him.

The Baron at this time was some fifty years old; he was a native of Coburg, and had been in Leopold’s service even before his marriage to the Princess Charlotte. Stockmar was no respecter of persons, no seeker after favours. He was just the man on whom Leopold could rely in the delicate task of bringing these two young people together.

His report on Albert was encouraging:‘He is a fine young fellow,’ he wrote to Leopold, ‘well grown for his age and with agreeable and valuable qualities; and who, if things go well, may in a few years turn out a strong handsome man of a kindly, simple yet dignified demeanour. Externally, therefore, he possesses all that pleases the sex, and at all times and in all countries must please. It may prove too a lucky circumstance, that even now he has something of an English look.’

Very encouraging, thought Leopold.

Stockmar, who was of course well aware of his master’s intentions, wrote later:‘But it must be made a sine qua non that the object of the visit must be kept strictly secret from the Princess as well as from the Prince, so as to leave them completely at their ease.’

But of course Stockmar did not know Victoria. The very fact that she knew Leopold had chosen Albert for her would predispose her in his favour; as for Albert, his grandmothers had talked so often of the possibilities of a match with England that he could not think of the Princess Victoria in any connection than as that of a possible wife.

These two young people were Leopold’s creatures and they had been so accustomed to regarding him as a superior being that they would continue to do so.

And just as he was about to set his plans in motion that old fool of a King had decided to frustrate him. Victoria’s uncles had seemed a poor lot to Leopold. His own father-in-law, George IV, had disliked him from the start and had done all he could to frustrate his match with his daughter, but at least he had been a man of taste and culture. William was a coarse sailor and a fool at that. And if he were not careful the plan he had had brewing for years could be frustrated.

Orange! No, it was too much to be borne. He did not fear Cambridge half as much; and Cumberland, being blind, was out of the running. The Duchess had made sure that Victoria did not see much of her cousins on her father’s side; naturally she was all for a husband from her own side of the family. And he could trust his sister. But if the King brought Orange in, who knew what could happen? What sort of a man was the Young Prince of Orange? Victoria was so impressionable, her mother said. So she was; the dear child was brimming over with affection. But no, he, Leopold, had made it clear that he wanted her to choose Albert. He could trust Victoria.

He took up his pen and wrote to her:‘I am really astonished at the conduct of your old uncle the King. This invitation to the Prince of Orange is very extraordinary …’

His anger was so great that the pen was shaking in his hands. The Duchess had told him that Victoria was inclined to be very fond of her Aunt Adelaide and that she had an affection for the King too. They were on the spot. They might have some influence. Leopold was well aware that Victoria was leaning farther and farther from her mother, and that her dislike of Sir John Conroy was growing into hatred.‘I had a communication hinting that it would be highly desirable that the visit of your relatives should not take place this year … I have never heard of anything like it and I hope it will arouse your spirit. Slavery has recently been abolished in the British colonies. I do not understand why you should be kept as a little white slave in England for the pleasure of the Court. I am not aware of the King’s having spent a sixpence on you; and I have no doubt that in his passion for the Oranges, the King will be excessively rude to your relations. This will not signify much. They will be your guests not his.’

Angrily he sealed the letter and sent it off at once. Then he felt better. Once Victoria knew what his wishes were she would act accordingly.