Thomas Creevy wrote concerning this decision in one of his letters, “I suppose Mrs. Kent thinks her daughter’s reign is coming on apace, and that her brother may be of use to her as versus Cumberland.”

In 1831 Leopold became King of the Belgians, and then, attention having been so thoroughly drawn to his pension, a determined demand was made that it should cease when he left England. Matters were not settled quite so simply. Leopold retained Claremont, stipulated that his debts of £83,000 should be paid for him, and that he should return four-fifths of the annuity. When the Duke of Kent had died crushed with debt, not so much more than this sober gentleman owed, that debt was left to hang round the necks of his widow and child. The Duke of Kent was popular, Leopold was not; yet the former was neglected and the latter was honoured. Really there seems little advantage in being popular!

When Leopold announced with some solemnity that he was called to reign over four million noble Belgians, Coleridge, referring to that country’s discontented state, remarked that it would have been more appropriate if he had said that he was called to rein in four million restive asses.

CHAPTER II
PRINCESS VICTORIA’S MOTHER AND UNCLE

“A country gentleman going to the theatre when William IV. was there would not believe the King was King because he was not wearing his crown; being almost persuaded, he looked more closely and then was quite sure that William was not the King, for the Lion and the Unicorn did not hang down on each side of him, and he had always been taught—and implicitly believed—that the King of England had never had any other arms than these.”—Contemporary Gossip.

From what has been said of the treatment given to the Duchess of Kent it can hardly be wondered at that she turned from the whole Royal family, though she could not always resist the kindness of the Duchess of Clarence, who came to weep with her and to admire the fat, good baby. The Duke of Sussex, too, did his best to show by his visits and advice that she might rely upon his friendship, but on the whole the resentment felt by the widowed mother was so keen that she would do nothing to conciliate the people among whom she thought it wise to live. Thus until the death of William IV. in 1837 there were constant royal disputes, which increased in bitterness as Victoria neared her majority.

The Duke of Wellington sometimes took an active part in trying to make things run smoothly for the Duchess, even against her will. For instance, he knew not only the Duke of Cumberland’s sentiments about her, but he knew also that Cumberland was an ugly hater. He had married in 1815 and his wife was not received by his mother, Queen Charlotte, so the Duchess of Kent, following her lead, took no notice of the Duchess of Cumberland when she came to take up her residence in England. Upon this, the Duke of Wellington told Leopold to advise his sister to write regretting that she was unable to welcome her on her arrival, and so was prevented from calling. When the lady of Kent got the message she wanted to know why she should do this thing, and Wellington replied that he should not tell her why, that he knew what was going on better than she did, and advised her for her own sake to do as he suggested. The Duchess returned that she would give him credit for counselling her well, and did as he suggested. For this act of politeness she reaped her reward in remaining untroubled for a long time by any active show of enmity from the Duke of Cumberland.

As a matter of fact, the Duchess of Kent had her share of the Teutonic quality of self-complacence; she was a strong woman who knew her own mind and who had very definite aims in life, and she did not think it worth while to placate anyone. Either anger against the Royal Family made her continually show haughtiness to them, or she was obsessed by a sense of the very important position she held as mother of a possible Sovereign of England. A weaker person, possessing a greater charm and tact, and imbued with less determination to secure her own rights, would have sailed serenely and almost unconsciously through troubles which the Duchess always met more than half-way, if she did not actually cause them. Perhaps had she insisted less definitely upon recognition for herself, that recognition would have been more freely accorded.

It was even more difficult for her to meet William IV. cordially than George IV. for the reason that they not only met more often, but that, while William readily recognised the child as his probable successor, George had for years refused to see her. It was not until Victoria was seven that she and her mother received an invitation to go to Windsor, and there is recorded an incident of that visit which, though amusing, is somewhat provocative of cynicism. George told this infant to choose a tune for the band to play, and she gave the diplomatic answer that she wanted them to play “God save the King.” One wonders whether she had run to an astute mother for advice, whether it was her favourite tune in actual fact, or whether the unwonted delights of her visit, and the kindness of George, the hitherto unknown uncle, made her spontaneously think of the air which would best please him. Whatever the motive had been, it was a clever reply.

When William IV. became King in 1830 he desired that the Princess Victoria should attend the Court functions, and we are given a ludicrous picture of this child of eleven, dressed in a long Court train and a veil reaching to the ground, following Queen Adelaide at a chapter of the Order of the Garter held at St. James’ Palace. She was also present at the prorogation of Parliament, and attended her first Drawing Room in February, 1831, in honour of the Queen’s birthday. Royalties of the time were inconsistent with regard to their birthdays. Thus on this occasion Adelaide’s natal day was honoured in February, while in 1836 it was kept in August. In that latter year, too, according to the papers, the King’s birthday was celebrated both in May and August! But the Duchess did not willingly allow her child to go to Court. She may have feared the influence of the coarse manners and uncontrolled tempers shown by the Princes, but this could not have been an excuse for slighting Queen Adelaide. However, there is no record from her own pen of the reason which induced her to keep Princess Victoria at home.