Kensington Palace and Queen Victoria

A view of the bedroom in which Queen Victoria was born, in 1819.

My favorite book about Queen Victoria is Gillian Gill’s We Two, which is mainly about her marriage (the subtitle is Victoria and Albert: Rulers, Partners, Rivals), but also does a wonderful job of telling the story of how she came to be heir to the throne and what her childhood was like. The best biographies read like good fiction, and this book falls into that category.

Kensington Palace, like so many other of my London destinations, has much more to offer than one can see in a day. I focused on Queen Victoria primarily: the part of the palace in which she was born and grew up—and from which she quickly departed when she became Queen of England. She couldn’t wait to get out of the place, and, aware of her story, one can’t blame her.

Still, her mother loved her dearly, as gifts and notes attest, and while the young princess rarely enjoyed the company of other children (not to mention many of her English relatives), she did have some nice playthings. For more information about her life, I highly recommend the book. For now, I’m just going to share some bits of the world she lived in. I believe that seeing items like these give us a little better understanding of Victoria as a human being, a little girl, an adolescent. I’ll touch on her later life in another blog post.

The cards explain the photos, for the most part, but I’ll add a couple of notes. Victoria’s Uncle Leopold had been married to the Princess Charlotte, King George IV’s only legitimate child. There’s quite a bit about him in We Two, and I often wonder if, had Charlotte not died in childbirth, he would have been the same sort of Prince Consort as his nephew Albert. In any case, Leopold became the first King of the Belgians in 1831. He married again in 1832. This picture of his bride, Louise of Orléans, appeared in numerous ladies’ magazines that year.

As I’ve mentioned before, photographing works of art in museums and historic sites can be challenging, mainly because of lighting conditions. You can get a non-glare view of the painting of thirteen-year-old Princess Victoria here at the Royal Collection Trust.

The Petrie Museum of Egyptian Archaeology

You’d think, given all the research I did for Mr. Impossible—not to mention my lifelong fascination with Egyptology—that I would have known all about the Petrie Museum of Egyptian Archaelogy. But I wrote that book quite a few years ago, when most of my research happened with books, and what was available online, while immensely helpful, wasn’t a fraction of what we find today.

That has to explain why it was such a surprise to discover it—by accident, no less—while looking for another museum around the corner, also part of University College London. The collection includes more than 80,000 objects. We did as much as we could in two phases, before and after lunch, and the boatload of photos below, will, I hope, give you an idea of what’s there.

Amelia Edwards, whose bust and book appear in the photo gallery, was an important source for me. The museum notes, as I realized while writing my book, that her attitude and prejudices reflect her time. This is bound to happen with research. So the trick is to aim for authenticity with hints here and there of the attitudes—because they offer important insights into the times—but to keep the not-so-pleasant stuff subdued. At the same time, I do try not to sound too 21st century, because I don’t want to jar readers out of the world I’ve created. Still, all writers reflect their times. That’s as true of me as it is of Amelia Edwards or any of the numerous other authors whose work I consulted.

As to the artifacts: The museum doesn’t have an elaborate guidebook, so the information is limited to what we (meaning my husband, under my command) could photograph, and I am not an Egyptologist, so I can’t offer further enlightenment. I can tell you one thing: Generally speaking, it’s believed that the shabtis—those little figurines—were meant to serve the deceased in the afterlife.

Again, you will find very brief videos on my Facebook and Instagram Author pages.

Asgill House and royal properties

I know I’m breaking my promise of only a dozen or so blogs a year, but a monthlong visit in London demands exceptions, so I hope you’ll enjoy traveling with me. And another note: If I were home I would be able to post to the blog the short videos we’ve made during the visits. I hope to do that when I return. In the meantime, you can access them on my Facebook and Instagram pages by clicking the links here on my Home page. However, if you prefer to avoid social media, I get it, believe me.

When I wrote Dukes Prefer Blondes, it was a bit harder to get the information I needed about Asgill House (Ithaca House in the story) than it is today. But of course I persevered. I found old photos of the interior and the architect’s explanation of the restoration. However, I had no idea how beautifully the house had been restored until I saw it in person. The gardens—what one can see of them behind the wall and through the gates—are lovely. The house looks pristine. While the garden layout was likely different at the time of my story, there’s no question that the place would have provided the beauty and tranquility Raven Radford’s parents sought.

What I failed to take in, even after a reader alerted me via email, was the significance of the location. Because so little of Richmond Palace remains, I hadn’t realized that the house was on royal property. I feel rather stupid about that. It would have been nice to make a little note about, say, the fact that Queen Elizabeth I had died at Richmond Palace, and such and such a character might unknowingly be standing on the very spot where she breathed her last!

Not the first time I’ve learned something after the fact…

Meanwhile, here are a few photos of the place. The last photo is of Marble Hill House, Twickenham (across the river). It was built originally by a mistress of King George II. A few generations later, the Prince Regent (who later became King George IV) rented the place for one of his mistresses, Maria Fitzherbert.

Below is a transcription of the plaque.

On this site, extending eastward to cloisters of the ancient friary of Shene formerly stood the river frontage of the Royal Palace. First occupied by Henry I in 1125. Edward III died here June 21, 1377. The palace was rebuilt by Henry VII who died here April 21 1509. Queen Elizabeth also died here March 24, 1603.