‘She has written to Lehzen – such a friendly letter.’
‘I don’t doubt she is trying to win you back,’ said Lord Melbourne. ‘But it would be best for the Baroness to acknowledge the letter and leave it at that.’
So the battle continued and like good soldiers the ladies-in-waiting and other servants of the Palace fell in behind their leaders. On one side was the Queen, with Lord Melbourne, Lehzen and Baron Stockmar; and on the other side the Duchess with Conroy and Lady Flora Hastings who, because of her rather serious nature and a certain gift for acid comment, led the ladies.
The strained situation with the Duchess drove Victoria into an even closer relationship with Baroness Lehzen. She even declared that she thought of her as Mother and sometimes called her by that name; but of course, reasoned Victoria to herself, she is not my mother, so I shall call her Daisy which I think is a lovely faithful name.
The Baroness was delighted by these outward signs of the Queen’s favour. She could endure the sly allusions to her origins from sharp-tongued Lady Flora; and the sneers about her German habits and her caraway seeds were shrugged aside. All that mattered was that Victoria loved her and had sworn that nothing could ever separate them.
Meanwhile plots fermented in the opposite camp.
Items in the press – not very prominent it was true – were suggesting that there was too much foreign influence at Court. The names Stockmar and Lehzen were mentioned, and of course King Leopold.
‘This has been started by J.C., Mamma and her ladies,’ said Victoria vehemently.
‘It’s nonsense,’ replied Lord Melbourne lightly. ‘Everyone knows that it is Your Majesty’s ministers from whom you take advice.’
‘One of my ministers at any rate,’ smiled Victoria. ‘It is true that dear Stockmar is kind and so devoted.’
‘He is a good intermediary for dealing with Conroy.’
‘Oh how I wish we could rid ourselves of J.C.!’
‘He would go if we acceded to his blackmail. That is what he is waiting for.’
‘I cannot understand why Mamma does not see through him.’
‘If I may be very indiscreet … ?’
‘Dear Lord M, you never are.’
‘Then if I may be exceptionally frank …’
‘You have my permission.’
‘Then I will say that I find the Duchess not very strong-minded and easily led by some. I do not think she is capable of any deep feeling.’
Of course it was wrong to discuss one’s own mother in such a way, but Mamma had become a State matter and this was the Prime Minister.
‘I fear you are right, Lord Melbourne.’
‘Therefore, we must not allow her to dictate our actions.’
‘Most certainly not. Lord Melbourne, what do you think of Lady Flora Hastings?’
‘Frank again?’ smiled Lord Melbourne.
‘Yes, please.’
‘I find her a disagreeable young … or not so young … woman. She must be past thirty. Her family are staunch Tories.’
‘I could well imagine so,’ replied Victoria distastefully. ‘She seems to be very friendly with J.C.’
‘That is understandable. I have always thought there was not an ounce of sense in the entire Hastings family.’
‘I do not find Lady Flora handsome either.’
‘She is positively plain.’
‘I am at a loss to understand why Mamma thinks so highly of her.’
‘A few simple deductions would make the answer clear,’ said Lord Melbourne, and they laughed.
Then they talked of other things – light, frivolous things, and Lord M was so amusing that she could not get to her Journal quickly enough to record some of his witticisms before she forgot them.
The Duchess came to the Queen’s apartments.
‘I thought,’ she said, ‘that my daughter might perhaps wish to see me.’
‘I always wish to see you agreeable, Mamma.’
The Duchess fingered one of the many bows on her dress. ‘My dearest angel,’ she said, ‘isn’t it time to put an end to this sad state of affairs?’
‘What state of affairs is this, Mamma?’
‘This animosity between us.’
‘It is not between us exactly Mamma. It is due to the people who surround us.’
The Duchess leaned forward in her chair.
‘That is exactly true. You see far too much of Lord Melbourne.’
‘My Prime Minister!’
‘Is he not a little more than that?’
‘I don’t think you understand these matters, Mamma.’
‘Oh, I understand very well. You think very highly of that man, now don’t you?’
‘It is of the greatest importance that the Queen should have confidence in her Prime Minister.’
The Duchess’s trouble was that she was unable to control her temper and, as Victoria had inherited a similar one, when these two clashed there were what the Duchess had called in Victoria’s childhood, ‘storms’.
‘Well,’ said the Duchess, ‘that is one way of describing it.’
‘Describing what and at what are you hinting, pray?’
‘Your friendship with that man. He is no friend to me.’
‘It is only necessary that he should be a friend to the Queen.’
The Duchess should have been warned that when her daughter continued to refer to herself as the Queen she was reminding her companion that she expected the respect the title demanded.
‘Take care!’ cried the Duchess. ‘There are some who are saying that he is the King … or would like to be … and that you would like him to be.’
Victoria did not realise the significance of these words; she was only angry that her mother, who had come ostensibly to seek a reconciliation, should think she would obtain it by attacking Lord Melbourne.
‘I am managing very well without your advice, Mamma!’ said the Queen coldly.
‘Yes.’ The Duchess was in a storm of rage now. ‘Then there is the way you obviously enjoy riding out and always doing it … so that the people can cheer you. And you eat far too much and show too much pleasure in your food. You gobble.’
‘If I wish to ride out, Mamma, I shall ride out, and if I wish to gobble, gobble.’
‘You laugh too loudly.’
‘I shall laugh as I please.’ Victoria rose. ‘And now,’ she said regally, ‘the Queen sees no reason why this interview should continue.’
The Duchess felt impotent to protest. This was the Queen and there was no doubt of that.
She rose and went back to her apartments.
‘I felt as though she would have ordered me to be sent to the Tower of London if I stayed longer.’
‘She is quite capable of it,’ retorted Sir John.
Lady Flora, who was present – she was often in the company of Sir John – hurried to find smelling salts.
‘Of course, Your Grace,’ she said, ‘the Queen’s unkind attitude towards her own mother comes from that ill-bred Baroness. Did you know that Her Majesty is now calling the woman Mother?’
‘Oh, it is shameful … shameful!’ moaned the Duchess.
‘We shall get even with them, never fear,’ promised Sir John.
Victoria was in the blue closet listening entranced to Lord Melbourne’s racy conversation. She had begun by scolding him, for during the recent thunderstorm she had seen him from a window standing under a tree.
‘I was in a fever of anxiety. It could have been struck. You might have been killed. Anything could happen.’
‘A sublime death,’ replied Lord Melbourne.