Albert was very interested and immediately started to make plans for improving it. He was very clever at that sort of thing; and he said that the position was so excellent that it was a pity it was so small and unworthy of me.

However, when a holiday was suggested—and I did feel I needed one after the ordeal through which I had just passed—I immediately thought of Osborne.

But Albert had another idea.

“You remember how much we enjoyed our visits to Scotland, my love? Why do we not take another tour of that delightful country. Moreover, you should become better acquainted with your subjects in the North.”

The outcome of that was our visit to Blair Athole.

When she heard we were going, Vicky declared she wanted to come too.

“Oh no, my darling,” I said. “This is just to be Papa and Mama.”

“Vicky too,” said Vicky imperiously.

Albert took her onto his knee and explained to her that Mama needed a rest, and to have Papa to herself to look after her.

“I will look after Mama, too,” said Vicky adorably; and Albert was overcome by emotion.

She was not in the least afraid of him, as I believe poor Bertie was. He had never been very articulate and now his speech was marred by a stammer, which seemed worse in Albert's presence.

Vicky put her arms around Albert's neck and her lips to his ear. He smiled indulgently and stroked her hair.

“Please, Papa… please let me come,” I heard her say.

“I am sorry, Liebchen …”

Tears welled up in Vicky's eyes. She wept becomingly—quite different from Bertie's bawling.

Albert looked at me and I thought he was going to burst into tears himself. How he loved his daughter.

Later he said to me, “I do not see why we should not take Vicky.”

I burst out laughing. “She is a witch,” I said, “and you, my dear Albert, are under her spell.”

“She is the most adorable creature. She is so like you, my love.”

That was irresistible. We decided Vicky should come with us.

This threw her into transports of joy, and no doubt she went to the nursery to boast about it. Bertie demanded to come.

When he heard he could not he lay on the floor and kicked and screamed. Lady Lyttelton tried to comfort him, but Albert happened to hear of it.

I am sorry to say this resulted in a beating for Bertie. I was very upset because he was so young, but Albert said it was necessary to inflict punishment sometimes. It was wrong to do otherwise. One always had to do the right thing by children; and it was quite clear that Bertie was going to need special vigilance. This hurt him, he declared, more than it hurt the child.

Lady Lyttelton was so upset I thought she might resign her post. As a matter of fact I think she would have done so had she not thought her presence there was necessary to protect Bertie.

“He is so young, Ma'am,” she kept saying to me. “He is only a baby.”

“Dear Lady Lyttelton,” I replied, “I know how fond you are of all the children, but Bertie's father knows what is best for him. Bertie will have a great position to uphold and he must be prepared for it.”

I had to admit that I hated to hear Bertie's sobs; but I had convinced myself that Albert was right and Bertie was in need of special correction.

We were up at a quarter to six on that morning in the month of September.

Vicky was in a state of great excitement and all ready to leave. Fatima and Baby Alfred were brought down to say goodbye and with them was a very subdued Bertie. By seven we were ready to get into the carriage and go to the railroad to take us to Paddington where our carriage was waiting for the journey to Woolwich.

As we left I saw Bertie grimace at Vicky in a most unpleasant way but I did not call Albert's attention to that. It seemed a pity to spoil the farewells, and all Albert could do was order some punishment I was sure Lady Lyttelton would see was not carried out.

When we arrived at the port of Dundee two days later, a red carpet was laid down for us to step on as we came ashore and we walked out, I holding Albert's arm while he held Vicky's hand.

What a welcome we were given in Dundee! And it was a wonderful moment arriving at Lord Camperdown's place where we were met by Lady Camperdown and Lady Duncan, who had her little boy with her. The little boy looked splendid in his tartan Highland dress—like a little man. He carried a basket of fruit and flowers that he gave to Vicky. She received it with great dignity and I saw Albert's eyes shine with pride.

I told him afterward that I was reminded of the visits I had made with Mama when I was a young Princess.

Oh, the beautiful Highlands! I have a special feeling for them. So indeed had Albert. I was so glad that he had taught me to appreciate the country. The journey was breathtakingly beautiful. We passed through Dunkeld, Cupar Angus, Pitlochrie to the magnificent Pass of Killiecrankie from which great height we could look down on wooded hills. Albert was absolutely enchanted.

Blair Athole, proved to be only four or five miles from Killiecrankie Pass. At the gates of Blair Castle Lord and Lady Glenlyon were waiting with their little boy to receive us.

What a glorious holiday that was! I would take walks with Albert and he would drive Vicky and me out in the pony phaeton. I had never seen such wild and beautiful country. Albert drew our attention to the points of interest. He was so anxious that we should miss nothing. I did a good deal of sketching and Albert went deer stalking. On one occasion I thought he was lost on the moors. However, all was well.

Vicky loved every minute. She was feeling very grown up to accompany Papa and Mama on one of their journeys. Her cheeks were rosy, her eyes bright, and when I said I was sure she was growing more plump, Albert delightedly agreed with me.

Albert said she must learn Gaelic and Vicky who was always so interested in everything about her—so different from sluggish Bertie—immediately began to do so. Albert thought she was wonderful and he laughed loudly at her efforts to pronounce the names of the mountains.

How he delighted in that child and how happy I was to have given her to him!

But all good things come to an end and very soon—too soon—we had to return to Buckingham Palace.


* * *

NO SOONER HAD we returned than Sir Robert told us we must receive Louis Philippe. Albert and I were taken aback as relations with France were very uneasy over the Tahiti affair. But Sir Robert explained that he was very eager to keep relations with the French on a cordial basis and this would be very much a political visit.

Albert saw the point at once and said we should do our part.

I was rather uneasy when I heard there was an outcry against the visit in the French Press; however, the King had decided to come accompanied by his foreign minister Monsieur Guizot.

Albert went to Portsmouth, with the Duke of Wellington, to give the King an official welcome, and then they brought him to Windsor where we received him in the state apartments. He embraced me very warmly in a most paternal manner. He was determined to be friendly, and a very charming man he was. He said at once that he had not forgotten the many kindnesses he had had in England when he had lived among us in exile from his country, and how pained he was always when differences arose between our two countries.

That was a promising start, and I was sure that entertaining the King of France was not going to be as difficult as we had feared.

“You are the first King of France to come on a visit to a sovereign of this country,” I reminded him, as I led him up the grand staircase.

“I hope this visit will bring good fruits to us both,” he replied; then he commented on the grandeur of the castle.

We went to the white rooms where we had luncheon. Mama was present. She was always with us now. Albert said that was as it should be, and I agreed with him and was very happy to put the past behind me.

At dinner we told the King about our visit to Blair Athole, for we had only been returned a week.

“I should have delayed my visit perhaps,” said Louis Philippe.

“Indeed not,” I assured him. “Being home after revelling in that Highland scenery did seem a little dull… but your visit has enlivened us a great deal.”

He was very grateful for these shows of affection, and said the most flattering things about the castle.

Albert commented on how many royal suites we had seen in the castle—that of the King of Prussia, the Emperor of Russia, the Duke of Saxony—and now the King of France.

Vicky was brought in and introduced to the King. She behaved impeccably and he thought her as delightful as the castle.

Later there were talks between Sir Robert Peel with Lord Aberdeen, our Foreign Secretary, and Louis Philippe and Guizot. Albert and I were present.

Louis Philippe was very frank. He talked about Tahiti and the trouble there and hinted that we English had become a little too excited about it. The French, he said, did not understand the principles of negotiations as the English did; but they liked to make a clatter.

“Like postilions,” he said with a smile. “And they do not stop to consider the bad consequences this can have. They are less calm than you English. But war…no…no… no! France cannot make war on England, the Triton of the Seas… not on England who has the greatest empire in the world.”

I basked in such talk and thought how pleasant it was to be able to deal with matters of state in such a civilized manner.

So the King dismissed the Tahiti affair.

“I would fain see it at the bottom of the sea,” he said. “All they want from it is the whalers. I hope to get rid of it altogether.”

We showed him the surrounding country and took him to Hampton Court; and the King had an understandable desire to see the house in which he had stayed during his exile. So we drove there and afterward to Claremont.

When we returned to Windsor a crowd was waiting and they shouted loyal greetings. I was glad the people bore no animosity to Louis Philippe and cheered him generously.

I invested him with the Garter.

It was a really most successful visit. Sir Robert was delighted and I felt gratified that it had gone off so well. What really pleased me most was Louis Philippe's feelings for Albert whom it was clear he admired very much.

“He will do wonders,” he said to me. “He is so wise. He does not push himself forward. He grows so much upon acquaintance and will always give you good advice.”

Fervently I agreed, and I told him that I had received a very similar comment from the Emperor of Russia.

I glowed with pleasure as I always did when people showed appreciation of my beloved Albert.

At last the visit was over and it was time for the King of France to leave us. Albert and I went with him to Portsmouth but when we arrived there the rain was teeming down and the gales blowing so hard that it would have been dangerous for the King to have embarked.

Albert thought it would have been better for him to have made the shorter crossing from Dover to Calais, and ascertaining that the weather was better there, in his usual efficient manner, he made all the arrangements for the switch; and considering the King's entourage and all that had to be done on the spur of the moment, this was no mean feat.

But then Albert was so wonderful at all organization.

There was great disappointment at Portsmouth naturally, but everyone realized that this was for the best.

“It is only in this admirable country that such a thing could be brought about with so little bustle,” said the King of France.

“Albert never makes difficulties,” I said proudly. “He calmly does what others think is impossible.”

“He is the finest of young men. He deserves you and you deserve him.”

That was a charming thing to say and it sealed the success of the visit for me.

I went aboard the ship and delighted the French by proposing the King's health and the friendship between our two nations.

Then he sailed away.

There was no doubt about it—the people were pleased with me, far more than they had been since the unfortunate death of Flora Hastings. I did believe that they had taken me back completely into their favor.

Kind and flattering comments were made in the papers. They said no sovereign was more loved than I was. I was sure that was due to my happy domestic life.