Queen Victoria's Musings

Dear Friends,

I, Alexandrina Victoria, have emerged from the mystical ether to visit this world of the internet. Never could I imagine gentlefolk being interested in myself, a hundred and ten years after my demise. I admit my reign over the United Kingdom was the longest of any female monarch in history, but modesty precludes any boasting. I will, however, share a few thoughts on my life.

One cannot envy my melancholy childhood. I never knew Papa, as he died a mere eight months after my birth, leaving us with huge debt. As for my mother... She was intent on rendering me weak and dependent upon her. She NEVER allowed me a single moment alone, nor allowed me to play with other children. Though I was pretty and clever, this portrait of me, with that absurd hat, is proof of my strange upbringing.

When I ascended the throne, and the welfare of millions lay in my hands, one of my first orders was to relocate Mama to a distant apartment in the castle. My trusted adviser, Melbourne, recommended marriage as a way of removing her altogether from the premises. This, I considered a shocking alternative. I did not expect I'd soon propose marriage to my dear cousin, Prince Albert. Smitten, I wrote in my diary, "He is extremely handsome; his hair is about the same colour as mine; his eyes are large and blue, and he has a beautiful nose and a very sweet mouth with fine teeth."

Note my mention of "fine teeth". My granddaughter, Marie, who later became Queen of Romania, described my teeth: 'small like those of a mouse'. I'm not certain what she meant by that. I diligently used cherry toothpaste, and several years back I heard my dental tools were auctioned off at Christie's for 14,000 pounds!

Here's my brood, all 9 of them! We looked a sullen group, having to stand so long for that silly photographer. Little Leopold, to my right, had not been feeling well. He was cursed with that dreadful hemophilia. I swore at the time it was not from my side of the family, but now I know it was, as my children spread it to the royal families of Europe. We needed to find more black eyed Princes and Princesses to infuse fresh blood into our line.

I do not care for this portrait of myself. It captures my mood too truthfully. My inestimable husband and friend, Albert, possessed every quality that could be desired to render me perfectly happy. And after his passing, I lost my joie de vivre. I kept to my home, wearing widow's weeds until my own death. Now I have gone and become maudlin with reminiscing. I will leave on a more positive note. I bid cheerio to all Victorian observers and wish Rosa luck and perseverance in her...What is this called again? Oh yes, blogging.

With warmest wishes,

Queen Victoria