All the same I was pleased when he went, and I was delighted to have come through our first meeting without too much annoyance.

I was unable to attend the prorogation in October. In fact I was not appearing in public as my confinement was getting very near. I was longing for it to be over. And then, I thought, there must be a long rest from this tiresome business.

Albert was so kind. He understood how I hated to have all those people so close, just waiting for the moment when the baby was born. He said that they should not be told until right at the last moment, and that would avoid their being close at hand during the wretched preliminary period.

I was greatly comforted by that; and although the entire business of childbearing was loathsome to me, for I hated that a queen should be made to feel like an animal, on this occasion it was not quite so humiliating because of the greater privacy.

I was so relieved when it was over; and this time there was very special rejoicing. I had produced the longed-for boy.


* * *

THE WHOLE COUNTRY was delighted. What store they set on boys! They had not felt the same about poor Pussy.

He was a lusty child, with large dark blue eyes, a rather big nose, but with a very pretty mouth. I was more accustomed to babies now and their original ugliness did not repel me quite so much because I knew it would change.

Albert was overjoyed about the new baby. He kept talking about Our Boy or The Boy.

I said, “I hope he will grow up just like you, Albert.”

Albert modestly did not reply, but I am sure he hoped the same.

“And,” I said, “he shall be called Albert.”

Of course there was opposition to that. This boy was the heir to the throne and there had never been a King Albert of England. There had been Edwards—six of them—and the English always liked their kings to have the same names. I never forgot that some people had wanted me to be Elizabeth when it was known that I would almost certainly come to the throne. I had refused that very firmly.

Edward was therefore a favorite choice for the Boy.

“It is only right that he should be Albert,” I insisted. “Pussy is named Victoria after me; therefore the Boy should be Albert after his father… even if he had to be Edward as well.”

Christmas had come and we went to Windsor. The Boy was just over a month old. Pussy, of course, was now becoming quite a person. She was not exactly enamored of her little brother.

Albert had instituted German customs and several fir trees were sent to us from Germany. These we decorated with brightly colored baubles and candles. Beside the trees were tables where presents were laid out. Pussy was enchanted by the trees and looked at them with wondering eyes.

Poor Lehzen had caught the jaundice and looked very odd—and very ill, for her skin was quite yellow. I wanted her to rest but she refused to. She insisted that she was needed in the nursery.

There was a ball on New Year's Eve. Even Albert could not retire early at such a time and had to stay up to see the passing of the old year. We stood together while the trumpets sounded to usher in the New Year; my hand was in his.

“A happy year, my darling,” said Albert.

“For us both,” I said fervently.

And I hoped it would be happier than the last.

The christening of the Boy took place in St. George's Chapel. For political reasons it had been thought advisable to invite Frederick William, King of Prussia, to be the chief sponsor. The others were the Duke of Cambridge, Princess Sophia, and three members of the SaxeCoburg family.

The King of Prussia stayed with us for about two weeks and was most affable and very interested in everything English. I found him pleasant.

There was the usual outcry, this time because the Boy was given the title of Duke of Saxony. He was the Prince of Wales, it was said, and people did not want to be reminded that he had a German father.

Albert was indignant, but he was accustomed to such comments now and more able to shrug them aside.

Albert thought he and I should be alone for a short while, and he suggested a brief visit to Claremont. “Alone,” said Albert. “After all, you have to recover from the Boy's birth.”

So Lehzen and the nurses went back to Buckingham Palace and Albert and I had a blissful time at Claremont.

The weather was cold and there was snow. How we revelled in it! We skated a little and Albert made a snowman twelve feet high. It was good to see him so unusually playful.

But all too soon we must return to London. And there trouble awaited us.

We had talked constantly about the children. Pussy had given us some anxiety during the last autumn; she had grown a little thin and rather listless. But she had seemed much better during Christmas.

“She is so pretty now,” I said. “That white and blue dress that Mama gave her is most becoming.”

“Your mother is very fond of the child. How glad I am to see you settling your differences. They should never have existed. Nor would they if …”

I looked at him appealingly as though to say: Please Albert, don't spoil these idyllic days at Claremont. Please do not say that Lehzen ruined my character, indulged me, did not check my temper with the result that it is now uncontrollable…or I shall lose that temper and everything will be spoiled.

Albert understood although I had not spoken, and he did not want to spoil the holiday either.

He said instead, “She is getting too old for Pussy now. She should be called by her proper name.”

“Then I shall not know whether you are speaking to her or to me.”

“She shall be Vicky.”

“Vicky! Very well. I don't suppose we shall be able to drop Pussy or Pussette right away. I hope she is all right. I do worry about her. Though she did seem better at Christmas. How she loved those candles in the trees!”

“She is adorable,” said Albert.

When we arrived back at the Palace the first thing we did was go to the nurseries. The Boy was asleep, the picture of health. Not so our daughter.

We gazed at her in consternation. Then Albert snatched her up. “The child is ill,” he said. “How thin she is! She is being starved.”

The nurse—Mrs. Roberts, I think her name was—glared at Albert. I was afraid the nurses took their cues from Lehzen who must have impressed on them that Albert was of no account, particularly in the nursery.

The nurse said, “We carry out the doctor's instructions here in the nursery.”

Albert put the child back into her bed and strode out of the nursery. I followed him.

In our room he said, “This is malicious. It seems to me that there is a conspiracy to keep me out of the nursery.”

I was very worried about the child; I hated these upsets and I knew that this was really another conflict between Albert and Lehzen. I lost my temper.

I cried, “Do you mean that I am keeping you out of the nursery?”

“I am sure those who have your support wish to do so.”

How he hated Lehzen! How could he? How I should have loved to see those two good friends; but they hated each other and were constantly letting me know it.

My temper flared. “I suppose you would like to keep me out of the nursery. You would like to be in charge. Then you could as good as murder the child.”

Albert stared at me as well he might. He looked bewildered. “Murder our child,” he murmured. “What are you saying…?” He stood very still, his lips compressed as though he were fighting hard to retain his composure.

Then I heard him murmur, “I must have patience.” And he strode from the room.

I was hurt; I was angry with myself, but more with him. He made no attempt to get along with Lehzen. He had hated her from the first day of our marriage, and was determined to do battle with her.

I knew Lehzen. He did not know her. I knew she would give her life for me and the child. Yet Albert was suggesting that Lehzen was responsible for Vicky's illness.

I could not restrain my anger. I went to him.

He was standing by the window looking out.

“So you are now avoiding me,” I said. “You walk out when I am talking to you.”

“Considering your uncontrollable temper there is little else one can do.”

“Our child is ill,” I said. “Can you think of nothing to do about that except to abuse those who serve her loyally?”

“It is because I fear they are not serving her wisely that I am concerned.”

“You have upset them in the nursery.”

“Mein Gott!” he cried. “They need to be upset. They are incompetent fools. I am expected to stand by and see my daughter neglected just because some old fool has to be placated.”

“Please do not call Daisy an old fool.”

“I shall call her what I please. It is through her that we have this trouble. She is unfit for the care of children.”

“She was my nurse, my governess, and my dearest friend.”

“And…we see the result. Ungovernable furies that should have been checked in childhood.”

“Albert, you should be careful what you are saying.”

“I shall say what I please. There is an attempt to shut me from the nursery. I am denied the care of my child. I am shown every day that I am of no importance in this household.”

“Albert, I am the Queen.”

“Of that all must be aware. As for myself I am constantly reminded of the fact.”

“Albert, that is not true.”

“It is apparent to all. You should listen to the truth and stop treating as gospel what is said by that crazy, common, stupid intriguer who is obsessed by her lust for power, and regards herself as a demi-god; and anyone who refuses to acknowledge her as such, as a criminal.”

“Oh, how dare you! I wish…I wish I had never married.”

“Has it occurred to you that that is something on which we might both agree? Baroness Lehzen…Dr. Clark…My daughter is in the hands of this incompetent pair. One only has to look at her to see the result. Dr. Clark has poisoned her with his chamomile; he has starved her by giving her nothing but asses' milk and chicken broth. We have seen his skills before…in the case of Flora Hastings. If this Court had been managed in an efficient manner that man would have been dismissed long ago. I suppose he is a friend of the worthy Baroness who can do no wrong. Oh, I know you are the Queen—it is a fact that is driven home to me every day—and that I am brought in merely to provide heirs to the throne and do as I am told. Take the child away from me. I have no rights. If she dies it will be on your conscience.”

I had never heard Albert make such a long and bitter speech and I had never felt so desperately unhappy in the whole of my life.

And as I stood there, he turned abruptly and left me.


* * *

I WEPT STORMILY, angrily. How dared he say such things! Yet he felt them, and I could see that they were in a measure true. I could not think what to do. I wanted him to come back. Let us shout at each other. Let the storms of abuse flow. What I could not endure was silence.

I passed a wretched night. The next morning Albert went to open the new Stock Exchange. I sat in the Palace brooding.

I could bear it no longer. We must talk calmly, reasonably. The child's health was important and it was necessary for her parents to look after her jointly.

I wrote a letter to Albert in which I said that we had been hasty and we had based our assumptions on evil rumors. There were always those who maligned others. I had already forgiven him the cruel things he had said to me; and I thought he should come to me and we should talk together.

I knew that Albert confided a great deal in Stockmar. We both did. Uncle Leopold had sent him to be an adviser to us both, and from our childhoods Uncle Leopold had been our guardian. I guessed that, upset as he was, Albert would go to Stockmar and tell him his side of the story.

As a result Stockmar came to me and said he wished to have a very serious talk. He had heard, through Albert, of the disagreement between us. He said, “I find these continual quarrels very disconcerting. For some time now I have been toying with the idea of returning to Coburg. My family is there. I should like to be with them. And when I see how things go here, I feel I can make no progress with the task your uncle has set me.”

“You would not leave us!” I cried.

“It is in my mind. I can see that you are unaware of the great blessings that have been bestowed on you. There could be so much happiness… so much that is good, but—”