She had done a rather good drawing yesterday and she was going to give it to Mamma with a very pretty pin in memory of this day; for Lehzen she had a ring. They were after all, the two who had prepared her for this and she must show her gratitude.
For an hour she lay thinking of this until Lehzen came in to say it was eight o’clock and to ask when she was going to get up.
‘Oh, Lehzen, I have been thinking of the importance of today.’
Lehzen agreed that it was very important and laid four prints on the bed; they were pictures of Saints and biblical subjects.
‘They are very pretty, Lehzen, and so suitable.’
Lehzen said that she thought so.
After breakfast Victoria put on the white lace dress which had been specially made for the confirmation; and there was a white crepe bonnet trimmed with white roses. Lehzen wept openly when she saw her, and Victoria threw her arms about her. ‘Dearest Lehzen, I am still the same. I shall not change. I shall still be your affectionate child even though I am a good Christian.’
Which made Lehzen break down altogether.
The carriages arrived and Victoria and the Duchess took their place in the first of them and drove off to St James’s.
In the King’s closet the Queen embraced Victoria and whispered to her that she was not to be alarmed, because it was going to be a beautiful ceremony. The King kissed her too and said she looked pretty. How kind they both were! How she wished there was not always trouble between them and Mamma; and the older she grew the more she was inclined to blame Mamma for it – which was not a very Christian thing to do when she was so close to confirmation. I shall have to curb myself, she thought.
The family had assembled in some force for this very important occasion. The kind Duke of Cambridge with his pretty Duchess was there and she told Victoria that her son George was to be confirmed very shortly too. Both the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge were very anxious for her to like their son and she told them she did very much. The Duke of Cumberland, looking very sinister with his odd wicked face, watched her intently; she asked him about poor George and he told her that Victoria’s visits to the beautiful blind boy were what he looked forward to more than anything. The Duke hoped she would spare the time to bring a little comfort into his son’s life. And Victoria felt like weeping to think of being blind and unable to see the sun and the flowers – and even the Duke of Cumberland who was not a very charming sight.
The King had taken her hand and was leading her into the Chapel where she stood at the altar rail between him and her mother. She took off her bonnet and was bareheaded for the ceremony.
The Archbishop of Canterbury was very stern and after the ceremony he read aloud a warning to Victoria. Her life he said would be burdened by the most serious responsibilities. She must fulfil a destiny which would leave little time for pleasure.
He thundered on, warming to his subject; he was, thought Victoria, like a fearsome avenging angel. She was going to face great conflicts; her spiritual as well as her temporal life would be threatened. She would find her life no bed of roses … It sounded formidable, a future of misery.
She was trembling with horror at the prospect of it. Oh dear, she thought, if only Aunt Adelaide had had a child it would be different; I should have a pleasant happy confirmation, the sort that George Cambridge will doubtless have. As it was the future loomed before her, dark, gloomy, full of terrors. Her eyes had filled with tears and she had begun to weep.
Mamma at her side pressed her hand firmly, and she felt suddenly drawn to her and wanted to turn and fling her arms about that flamboyant figure and cry out: ‘Don’t let me be Queen. Let them choose someone else.’
Seeing the effect his address had had the Archbishop was satisfied and stopped as the King was looking impatient and was obviously about to tell him to bring his diatribe to an end.
‘Well,’ William said, ‘that’s done with.’ And he took Victoria into the closet with the Queen and the Duchess following.
He pressed her hand. ‘Priests!’ he said. ‘Don’t want to let them frighten you. Lot of stuff. You come and see what I’ve got for you. A nice present for a nice little girl.’
‘Oh, Uncle William,’ sobbed Victoria. ‘You are so kind.’
That pleased him and in the closet he took up a set of jewellery; the emeralds glittered through her tears and she cried out that they were lovely.
‘There, there, and you’ll look very pretty in them. The Queen has something for you too.’
The Queen’s present was a tiara of matching emeralds.
‘Dear kind Uncle William and Aunt Adelaide!’
Aunt Adelaide whispered that these ceremonies were very tiring and Victoria must not become too affected by them. If she was kind and good that was all she had to worry about, because everything would come right then; and she knew Victoria was kind and good, so it was not going to be so very difficult.
Victoria drove back to Kensington with the Duchess and wept a little on the latter’s shoulder.
‘You must learn to be a little more humble,’ said the Duchess. ‘You must listen and take advice, because now you are getting older you will most certainly have your duties. The Archbishop was trying to frighten you, but there is no need to be frightened because you have your mother beside you.’
And for once there was some comfort in that.
Back at the Palace the Duchess had a present for her daughter. A bracelet containing a lock of her hair.
‘Something very special to remind you of me,’ she said.
‘I shall always remember this day, Mamma, when I look at this bracelet.’
That was not the end of the excitement of that day. During the afternoon a messenger arrived from Langenberg.
The Duchess seized on the letters avidly and calling to Victoria cried: ‘Feodora has a little daughter. They are both well.’
‘Oh, what a happy day after all!’ cried Victoria.
She was enchanted at the thought of having another niece; and the baby was to have her name too – Adelaide, Victoria, Mary, Louisa, Constance.
She could not be called Victoria, of course. That would be a little confusing. She would be known as Adelaide – a rather pleasant compliment to the Queen.
Victoria was wildly excited. It was the happiest of days because she had heard that Uncle Leopold was to pay a visit to England with his wife Aunt Louise, of whom Victoria had heard much and never seen.
Uncle Leopold could scarcely wait to clasp his darling Victoria in his arms and Victoria could scarcely wait to be clasped. For so many years they had been in touch only through letters, but their affection, they were often declaring to each other, had never waned. Leopold’s letters had been full of advice for the future Queen of England, and again and again he expressed the hope that she would never cease to consult him. Hers had been full of gratitude and professions of her enduring love.
‘And now the prospect of seeing him, Lehzen, makes me so happy that I can scarcely bear it.’
‘You must not get too excited,’ warned Lehzen. ‘We have to make the journey to Ramsgate, don’t forget, and you wouldn’t want to be upset and not ready to greet them.’
‘I will try not to get over-excited and think about the happiness which will be mine when I see my dearest Uncle.’