“You must tell me at once. It may be that the King will want to take you away from me…from your home… and to keep you at Windsor.”

“Why, Mama?” I asked eagerly. “Why?”

“Never mind why.”

What a constant cry that was! If one never knew why, one remained ignorant about so many things.

She kissed me. “Now go to sleep.”

But I could not sleep. People cannot command sleep any more than they can make people never mind why.


* * *

THAT WAS ONLY the beginning. It was very clear that the King was determined I should enjoy my visit to him and that it should be one that I would never forget. Feodore told me that he had asked her what I liked and she had said that I liked dancing and music. He had declared, “Then dancing and music there shall be. At all costs we must please the little Victoria.”

Feodore told me that she thought he was charming also. He was very attentive to her. In fact I began to believe that he preferred her to sit close to him rather than me. Though I could not complain of his treatment of me. His eyes would light up when he saw me in a way I can only describe as tender, and he had that soft look in them that was near to tears but not quite, and his cheeks would wobble and his lips twitch as though he found me rather amusing.

There was an entertainment in the conservatory and I was seated next to him to watch. I could not help clapping my hands in appreciation of the magnificent movement of the dancers and when there was singing I sat there entranced. The King kept looking at me and smiling; and although Mama might disapprove of my obvious delight—once I jumped up and down in my seat—the King seemed very pleased about it; and when I looked at him uncertainly, he said, “Yes, I quite agree. If I were as agile as you, my dear, I should do the same. They are worthy of such appreciation.”

It occurred to me that he made a point of remarking on everything I liked of which Mama would disapprove. Once I caught him looking at her and his expression was very different from that which came my way.

He likes me, I thought, but he does not like Mama.

He leaned toward me and said, “I know you would like to ask the band to play something—a favorite of yours. Would you?”

“Oh yes,” I replied.

“What shall it be?”

I looked at him steadily—his pink cheeks and his lovely curls and his wrinkled, pouchy eyes—and I loved him because he was so kind to me and made me feel that I could be myself and not have to be the little girl Mama wished me to be.

I said, “‘God save the King.' That is a very good song.”

He gave me that strange look again and said, “Yes, I do indeed think you are a very nice little girl. Thank you. I will tell the band that you wish to make a request.”

Then he said loudly, “The Princess Victoria is going to ask the band to play something of her choice. Now, my dear.”

I stood up and said very loudly and clearly, “Please play ‘God Save the King.' ”

People clapped. Everyone was smiling. I heard someone whisper, “She is a little diplomat already.” And I wondered what they meant.

And then the band was playing and everyone except the King stood up; and I felt very pleased and wondered whether Mama would say I had made the right choice.

The King evidently thought so for he suddenly took my hand and pressed it in a way to imply that we were very good friends indeed.

The next day there was a visit to the zoo which the King had established at Sandpit Gate.

It was a very exciting day and one of the reasons why it was so enjoyable was that Mama did not come. She had not been invited to join the party and I fancied that the King knew I should be glad to escape from her critical eyes. I was very perceptive in some ways and I had quickly gathered that although he liked me—and Feodore perhaps even more— he disliked Mama and he was of such a nature—as were all his brothers— to let her know it if the opportunity arose.

So it was a most exciting day looking at the strange animals—zebras, gazelles, and such as I had never seen before.

When I was united with Mama I had to answer endless questions. Who had been there? What had been said? It went on and on but I was still living in that delightful memory of having had such a wonderful day without being watched all the time.

The day after that Mama and I, with Lehzen, were walking toward Virginia Water when we heard the sound of wheels on the road. Mama took my hand and drew me to the side of the road and we waited while a very splendid phaeton came toward us. I had never seen a carriage driven so fast, but as it approached it drew up.

Seated there, with my Aunt Mary, was the King.

He stopped and said it was a fine day. Then he looked at me and gave me that amused smile.

“Pop her in,” he said, and a postilion in silver and blue livery leaped down and put me into the phaeton between the King and Aunt Mary.

“Drive on,” cried the King; and we drove off leaving Mama and Lehzen standing on the side of the road, looking not only angry but rather frightened. I do believe Mama thought the King was kidnapping me. The King was laughing. I think he was rather pleased to see Mama's dismay.

I was a little disturbed but I quickly forgot it because it was so exhilarating driving along in the phaeton at a greater speed than I had ever known before.

“How do you like this?” cried the King, taking my hand in his.

“It is lovely,” I shouted. I suddenly realized that I could shout as much as I liked and I could do and say just what came into my head. In addition to this wonderful ride I was free of Mama's supervision.

The King talked to me all the time and Aunt Mary now and then said something, and she was smiling as though she liked me very much.

The King asked me questions and I told him I loved riding on my dear pony Rosy. She could really go very fast when she wanted to, but sometimes she had to be coaxed a little. I told him about the lessons I had to do and how I hated arithmetic and liked history because my governess, Baroness Lehzen, made that very interesting.

He listened with the utmost sympathy and I confided that what I liked best was dancing and singing.

He was not a bit like a king. When he talked of certain people he changed his face and way of talking. He was very good at imitating people and some of them I recognized.

I said, “I had never thought that talking to a king could be like this.”

“Ah,” he said, “many people speak ill of kings and it is harder for them than most people to win real affection. If they do one thing which pleases some, it displeases others … so there is no way of pleasing everybody all the time.”

I pondered this and said that if one were good, God would be pleased so everyone must be pleased too.

“Except the devil,” he suggested. “He likes sinners, you know. So I am right, am I not?”

“But of course you are right because…”

“Because I am the King?”

“No …” I said judiciously, “because you are right.”

Aunt Mary laughed and said we should go to Virginia Water as it was a lovely drive.

We went to the King's fishing temple where we left the phaeton and went into a barge. Several important people were there. The King presented me to them and they showed me a great deal of respect. One of them was the Duke of Wellington about whom Lehzen had told me a great deal. He was the hero of Waterloo who had played such an important part in our history. He was a very great man, but I did not like him very much. He was rather haughty and I believed was trying to remind everyone of his importance. I supposed that as Waterloo had happened nearly ten years before, he thought they were beginning to forget it and the memory must be constantly revived. He was not so very tall and rather thin, with a hooklike nose and eyes that seemed to look right through one—which made me rather uncomfortable. The King seemed to like him very much—at least to respect him. I supposed because of Waterloo.

There was music and the band played “God Save the King” while I clasped my hands and looked up with affection at my uncle, who noticed this and gave me a very pleasant smile.

But all good things must come to an end and I was taken back to Cumberland Lodge where Mama was waiting for me.

What an interrogation there was! “What did the King say?” “And what did you reply to that?” “And then?” “And then…?” With here and there Mama clicking her tongue. “You shouldn't have said that. You should have said this…or this…”

“But Mama,” I insisted. “I think the King liked me to say what I meant.”

“He wanted to know exactly what was going on. He wanted to trap you.”

“Oh no, Mama. He just wanted me to laugh and enjoy it.”

She shook her head at me. “You are very young, Victoria,” she said.

“But I am getting older. No one stays young forever.”

“You do not listen enough. You are too anxious to say what you think.”

“But, Mama, how can I say what anyone else thinks?”

She turned away and suddenly I felt sorry for her. It was odd to feel sorry for Mama when everyone in our household obeyed her…well perhaps not all. Perhaps not Sir John Conroy and it might well be that sometimes she obeyed him.

The time came when the visit to Windsor was at an end and we must return to Kensington. The King asked them to lift me onto his knee when he said goodbye. He told me how much he had enjoyed my visit and hoped I had too.

“Oh yes, indeed I have,” I said. “It has been particularly wonderful because I had been afraid that it might not be.”