I’ve no doubt you’ll have heard bad things about my life, for I’ve made many enemies in my day, and though I note that you look askance at this dwelling – and the single, miserable maid we have – you should be made aware that we have seen better days. In my heyday I moved among giants. There was a time when that old shyster lawyer Abe Lincoln sought my advice – though, admittedly, he failed to take it. Honest Abe! How he could be called that, with that light-fingered, shop-obsessed wife of his, I’ve never fathomed. And before I went to America I was on the point of being knighted, as Solicitor General, before that pompous prig Prince Albert poked his proboscis into my affairs. I think he was annoyed by the sparkle in little Vicky’s eyes when she spoke to me that day in the Blue Room at Windsor. Because I always did have a way with the women, I admit. Even if, as it’s been rightly said, I have the features of a battered bare-knuckled prizefighter.But there you are: I took after my mother, you see.And though you’ll be aware I eke out a meagre living now, giving legal advice here and there in London, I’ll have you know there was a time when I was the highest paid Queen’s Counsel in the land.
