So it was a most exciting day looking at the strange animals—zebras, gazelles, and such as I had never seen before.
When I was united with Mama I had to answer endless questions. Who had been there? What had been said? It went on and on but I was still living in that delightful memory of having had such a wonderful day without being watched all the time.
The day after that Mama and I, with Lehzen, were walking toward Virginia Water when we heard the sound of wheels on the road. Mama took my hand and drew me to the side of the road and we waited while a very splendid phaeton came toward us. I had never seen a carriage driven so fast, but as it approached it drew up.
Seated there, with my Aunt Mary, was the King.
He stopped and said it was a fine day. Then he looked at me and gave me that amused smile.
“Pop her in,” he said, and a postilion in silver and blue livery leaped down and put me into the phaeton between the King and Aunt Mary.
“Drive on,” cried the King; and we drove off leaving Mama and Lehzen standing on the side of the road, looking not only angry but rather frightened. I do believe Mama thought the King was kidnapping me. The King was laughing. I think he was rather pleased to see Mama's dismay.
I was a little disturbed but I quickly forgot it because it was so exhilarating driving along in the phaeton at a greater speed than I had ever known before.
“How do you like this?” cried the King, taking my hand in his.
“It is lovely,” I shouted. I suddenly realized that I could shout as much as I liked and I could do and say just what came into my head. In addition to this wonderful ride I was free of Mama's supervision.
The King talked to me all the time and Aunt Mary now and then said something, and she was smiling as though she liked me very much.
The King asked me questions and I told him I loved riding on my dear pony Rosy. She could really go very fast when she wanted to, but sometimes she had to be coaxed a little. I told him about the lessons I had to do and how I hated arithmetic and liked history because my governess, Baroness Lehzen, made that very interesting.
He listened with the utmost sympathy and I confided that what I liked best was dancing and singing.
He was not a bit like a king. When he talked of certain people he changed his face and way of talking. He was very good at imitating people and some of them I recognized.
I said, “I had never thought that talking to a king could be like this.”
“Ah,” he said, “many people speak ill of kings and it is harder for them than most people to win real affection. If they do one thing which pleases some, it displeases others … so there is no way of pleasing everybody all the time.”
I pondered this and said that if one were good, God would be pleased so everyone must be pleased too.
“Except the devil,” he suggested. “He likes sinners, you know. So I am right, am I not?”
“But of course you are right because…”
“Because I am the King?”
“No …” I said judiciously, “because you are right.”
Aunt Mary laughed and said we should go to Virginia Water as it was a lovely drive.
We went to the King's fishing temple where we left the phaeton and went into a barge. Several important people were there. The King presented me to them and they showed me a great deal of respect. One of them was the Duke of Wellington about whom Lehzen had told me a great deal. He was the hero of Waterloo who had played such an important part in our history. He was a very great man, but I did not like him very much. He was rather haughty and I believed was trying to remind everyone of his importance. I supposed that as Waterloo had happened nearly ten years before, he thought they were beginning to forget it and the memory must be constantly revived. He was not so very tall and rather thin, with a hooklike nose and eyes that seemed to look right through one—which made me rather uncomfortable. The King seemed to like him very much—at least to respect him. I supposed because of Waterloo.
There was music and the band played “God Save the King” while I clasped my hands and looked up with affection at my uncle, who noticed this and gave me a very pleasant smile.
But all good things must come to an end and I was taken back to Cumberland Lodge where Mama was waiting for me.
What an interrogation there was! “What did the King say?” “And what did you reply to that?” “And then?” “And then…?” With here and there Mama clicking her tongue. “You shouldn't have said that. You should have said this…or this…”
“But Mama,” I insisted. “I think the King liked me to say what I meant.”
“He wanted to know exactly what was going on. He wanted to trap you.”
“Oh no, Mama. He just wanted me to laugh and enjoy it.”
She shook her head at me. “You are very young, Victoria,” she said.
“But I am getting older. No one stays young forever.”
“You do not listen enough. You are too anxious to say what you think.”
“But, Mama, how can I say what anyone else thinks?”
She turned away and suddenly I felt sorry for her. It was odd to feel sorry for Mama when everyone in our household obeyed her…well perhaps not all. Perhaps not Sir John Conroy and it might well be that sometimes she obeyed him.
The time came when the visit to Windsor was at an end and we must return to Kensington. The King asked them to lift me onto his knee when he said goodbye. He told me how much he had enjoyed my visit and hoped I had too.
“Oh yes, indeed I have,” I said. “It has been particularly wonderful because I had been afraid that it might not be.”
“Why were you afraid?”
“One is afraid of kings.”
“Because of what one has been led to expect?”
“Yes, because of that.”
“And I was not such an ogre after all? In fact I think you and I liked each other rather well.”
“Well, I liked you, Uncle King, and I think you liked me too because you gave me such a wonderful time… besides the picture.”
He smiled and said, “Tell me what you liked best of your stay.”
I hesitated for a moment and then I said, “I liked so many things but I think the best was when you said ‘Pop her in' and we galloped off in the phaeton.”
“Did I say that?”
“Yes. ‘Pop her in.' ”
“It was not really kingly language, was it? But perhaps it was pardonable between an uncle and his niece…even though she is a princess and he a king. And that was what you liked best.”
I nodded.
“You are a dear little girl,” he said. “I trust you will always have the sweet nature you have today, and that events… and those about you… will not succeed in changing you.”
Then I said goodbye and he kissed me again.
I was almost in tears at the thought of leaving him and he was very sad.
Mama wanted to know exactly what he had said and what I had replied. I told her and added, “I think the King must be one of the nicest gentlemen in the world.”
That did not please her, but that visit to the King had changed me a little. I had the impression that it was sometimes better for me to say what I meant rather than what I was expected to say.
The King had thought so in any case.
But there was so much I did not understand. Mama was right when she said I was so young; and quite often I did feel as though I were floundering in the dark.
But I did know that the visit had made Mama very uneasy—not only about me, but about Feodore too.
LIFE SEEMED DULL after the visit to Windsor. There were so many lessons and far too few holidays. If I complained Lehzen told me that it was my duty to acquire knowledge. A princess must not be an ignoramus.