Chapter XIII
THE BEAUTIFUL BLIND BOY
The King and Queen were at Kew and this was a very sad occasion – a farewell dinner to the Duke and Duchess of Cumberland and their son.
The King was subdued; he was a family man and all the resentment he had previously felt towards his brother Cumberland was now suppressed because of this terrible tragedy which had overcome him and his Duchess.
‘Their only son,’ he said to Adelaide. ‘I feel for them.’
‘Oh, William,’ replied the tender-hearted Adelaide, ‘if only I could believe that this Baron Graefe could do something for the boy!’
‘We can only hope he will. They say he’s a clever fellow; and he didn’t do badly with Ernest.’
‘But Ernest lost his eye. He couldn’t save that.’
‘No. Well, we’ll see. We’ve got to speed them on their way and hope, that’s all, my dear.’
‘Poor Frederica. This has changed her.’
‘For the better,’ said William bluntly. ‘I always wondered whether she had a hand in murdering those husbands of hers.’
‘There are always rumours,’ said Adelaide sadly. ‘Few of us escape.’ She was thinking of Earl Howe, still attached to the Household but no longer in the position of Chamberlain.
‘H’m,’ said the King. ‘And there have been some particularly nasty ones surrounding my brother Cumberland and his wife.’
‘The whole world is sorry for him now,’ said Adelaide. ‘But we must go to greet our guests, I shall feel like weeping when I see dear George.’
But she managed to smile when Frederica came towards her leading her poor blind son.
‘My dear, dear George,’ said Adelaide, and kissed him tenderly.
‘Why, Aunt Adelaide, it is good of you to ask us to say goodbye to you before we leave for Germany.’
He was smiling. He had grown beautiful in his blindness; the gentleness had increased and his smile was very sweet. Adelaide had heard him referred to as the ‘Beautiful Blind Boy.’ Dear George, so young and yet to have acquired this special and so admirable quality which enabled him to bear his affliction more easily, it seemed, than those about him.
‘Here is the King, dearest,’ said Frederica.
And George turned to William, who, the tears rising to his eyes and his face growing redder than usual, embraced him warmly.
‘Dear nephew, this German fellow is good … the best in the world.’
‘So they tell me, Uncle William.’
‘You’ll be back … right as rain.’
Adelaide had taken his arm. ‘Come, dear George, we will go into dinner.’
It was an informal party as only a few close friends were fellow-guests and Adelaide and young George talked of the old days and visits to Bushy and Windsor when all the children had had such fun. The King and Cumberland talked politics together; and the Duchess of Cumberland’s eyes scarcely left the face of her beautiful blind boy.
When the meal was over the King rose to his feet and drank the health of the Duke and Duchess of Cumberland.
‘We all know for what purpose they are leaving us and our heartfelt prayers go with them. You will all pray, I know – as the Queen and I do – for the success of this mission. May our nephew return to us with his sight fully restored. I can say – and the Queen is with me in this – nothing would give us greater delight.’
The Duchess of Cumberland was weeping quietly, and the Duke stood up and in a voice rent with emotion thanked the King for his goodness to him, his wife and his son. They would go on their journey with hope in their hearts and they would find comfort in remembering this evening.
All were deeply affected except young George who sat smiling amid their tears – a look of happiness on his face. Adelaide wondered whether this was because he was certain of being cured, or whether it simply meant that the qualities which he had recently discovered in himself had brought him such consolation that he could be happy even in blindness.
How fortunate I am in my relations, thought Victoria. There were the dear Württemberg cousins, those other cousins she had not yet met from Saxe-Coburg but of whom she had heard much – they were already dear Ernest and Albert in her mind – and now there was dearest Feodora who was writing to say that her husband – another Ernest – was talking of a visit they might pay to England. Oh, what joy to see darling Feodora and the dear babies. They were increasing rapidly. Little Charles followed by Eliza, then Hermann and now another baby. Victor. Her brother Charles had upset everyone by marrying Marie Klebelsberg and they had a little son. Such fun it was to think up presents for the children. We are a great present-giving family, thought Victoria. Feodora’s letters were a joy; they were full of the antics of the children who already loved their Tante Victoria. But dearest of all the relations was Uncle Leopold.
It was long since she had seen him but she remembered him as being the most handsome man in the world. He wrote to her regularly, stressing the fact that he wanted to help her, to guide her; she was his ‘dear soul’ and he wanted her to turn to him for any advice she needed. She knew now that she would one day be a great Queen; she was very young, and it was likely that she would still be young when the Crown came to her; he wanted her to know that her Uncle Leopold, though he might be far away, was never far off in spirit. She could write her innermost thoughts to him. They were as one. He had believed that he would always be at her side, but fate had made him the King of the Belgians and that had meant that he could no longer live in England. Thank God, they could both wield a pen with some skill. Thus separation need not be an obstacle, although he would give a great deal to be with her, to embrace her once more. Did she remember how she used to sit on his knee and watch his lips as he talked as though she loved the very words which came forth? He was always at the disposal of his dearest Victoria.
‘How fortunate I am to have such an uncle,’ said Victoria to Lehzen. ‘I believe him to be the most noble as well as the most handsome man in the world.’
Lehzen was silent. There were facts about Leopold which Victoria did not know. If he had been so devoted to his niece why had he not stayed with her? He should have said ambition rather than fate had made him the King of the Belgians. He had not behaved with what could be called nobility towards that poor girl Caroline Bauer. She must regret the day when she first saw Leopold King of the Belgians, for as far as Lehzen could gather Fräulein Bauer had been a considerable actress on the German stage and fame and fortune were within her grasp. But Leopold had seen her; he spent many hours with her telling her of his sad life and how he had lost his wife so soon after their marriage and that the only woman whom he had ever known who reminded him of her and who could therefore take her place was Caroline Bauer. She was the niece of his friend and physician, Dr Stockmar and the fact that she had her mother with her seemed to give a respectability to the liaison. He had brought her to England, installed her in a little house and when he visited her would give her an account of his ailments and his sorrows; and then he would expect her to read to him for hours to save his eyes until the poor actress and her mother longed to escape the dreary life to which Leopold had condemned them; and when he decided to accept the Belgian crown they had with relief returned to Germany.
Of these matters Victoria knew nothing. Lehzen often wondered whether it was wise for the dear child to retain her fairytale view of life. Perhaps awakening would come fast enough; perhaps the Duchess herself was breaking it; for Lehzen was fully aware of the changing feelings of Victoria towards her mother.