The Widow of Windsor Page 7

  And then … home to the best-loved place of all – though by no means the grandest – the dear Yellow Palace with its little rooms and winding passages which was Home.

  Who would have thought this happy life would not go on for ever.

  * * *

  Louise was waiting impatiently for her husband’s return from the barracks. When reading the English papers which she did whenever possible to improve her knowledge of the language she had found something of great interest in The Times.

  The Prince of Wales was nearly seventeen, and as it was the custom of royalty to marry early, there was a great deal of speculation as to whom this very important young gentleman would choose for his bride.

  The article went on that the choice was somewhat limited for His Royal Highness. His bride would be the future Queen of England and therefore some qualifications would be demanded of her which might not be easy to supply. She must be young, for her main duty was to give the country heirs; she must be royal; and she must be Protestant. This narrowed the choice down considerably and the author of the article had, after great consideration, come to the conclusion that there were only seven candidates for the honour.

  Six of these were German princesses; the seventh on the list was Princess Alexandra of Denmark.

  Louise stared at the letters. Alix, Queen of England! Her common sense immediately rose to the fore. The seventh on the list. What hope had she!

  All the same it was something which she must discuss with Christian at once.

  When he came in and she was able to show him the article he was startled.

  ‘Our Alix! Why she’s only a child.’

  ‘She’s fourteen. Why in two or three years she’ll be ready.’

  ‘English Princes always marry Germans.’

  ‘A matter which I believe the English people resent.’

  ‘The English royal family is half German. Albert was most definitely. And Victoria is half so. Germans always have the first chance.’

  Christian was thinking of himself and how he had been overlooked for a Prince of Coburg.

  ‘It could change.’

  ‘My dear Louise, Alix is seventh on the list.’

  ‘Still she’s on the list.’

  ‘No, it would always be a German.’

  ‘Look at the list. These German Princesses … who are they? Daughters of small States. Whereas Alix is the daughter of a future King.’

  ‘You are prejudiced,’ said Christian with a laugh.

  ‘I’m also realistic,’ said Louise. ‘We are going to be prepared. Our children have not had an education worthy of them so far. All that has to be changed and we are going to change it.’

  ‘When?’ asked Christian.

  ‘At once,’ said Louise. ‘There’s no time to be lost.’

  * * *

  Life had changed suddenly. It had become more serious. Bernstorff and the Yellow Palace appeared to be invaded by an army of teachers. They must spend more time at their lessons, said Louise. They were no longer children – at least Fredy, Willy and Alix weren’t and Dagmar was fast gaining their grown-up status.

  Louise always believed in explaining to the children. She herself had taught them music and drawing, but these were the necessary accomplishments of well-brought-up young ladies; they were scarcely lessons. They had had their Swiss governess, Mademoiselle Schwiedland. But now they had to be prepared for whatever role they might be called upon to play in later life.

  Pastor Theobold came to teach them German and Professor Petersen history and geography; there was a new music teacher because Louise thought that they should have professional tuition which she feared she did not give them. So Mr Siboni was engaged.

  But most important of all was Miss Knudsen, who came to teach English. Mathilde Knudsen was homely, kindly and quiet; she had been born in the West Indies and spoke English as a native of England. Alix’s conversations with Cousin Mary had been of great use to her and she found that she progressed rapidly under Miss Knudsen’s tuition. Her accent improved and although she occasionally used quaint expressions which made Miss Knudsen smile she was undoubtedly fluent.

  This seemed to be of the utmost importance for her parents were constantly asking her how she was progressing with her English and these constant enquiries made her aware that for some reason learning English so that she could write it with ease and speak it with a degree of fluency was more important than any of her other lessons.

  Miss Knudsen’s very special favourite was Alix – not the cleverest of the family, but without doubt the most beautiful; Dagmar was much quicker at her lessons and little Thyra was charming, but Alix, in Miss Knudsen’s opinion, was the flower of the family.

  They became great friends and Alix enjoyed walking out in Copenhagen or in the gardens of Bernstorff with her governess, chattering away in English all the time.

  Listening to her, her parents exchanged significant glances. Louise as usual was right. If by chance Alix became number one on that important list, owing to the foresight of her mother, she would be prepared.

  * * *

  There was an addition to the family. A little brother was born and they called him Valdemar. There was great excitement about a new baby. The time had come for Fredy’s confirmation.

  ‘As there is so little difference between their ages and Alix is almost sixteen they might as well be confirmed together,’ said Louise.

  So it was arranged that this should be so; and preparations began. There had always been an emphasis on religious education in the household; and as Prince Christian liked his children to follow his example and read a chapter from the Bible every night before they went to sleep, Fredy and Alix were ready.

  As Fredy was in the line of succession the confirmation was a public occasion and King Frederick himself was present among the distinguished company which filled the Slots Kirken in Copenhagen on that October day. The dignity and good looks of the young pair excited the admiration of the spectators; and it was a solemn occasion, for in the Lutheran Church the confirmation ceremony meant that this was an end of childhood and that the responsibilities of adult life were now to be taken on.

  The King had wished the Countess Danner to attend and there was some consternation about this as she was not accepted as his legal wife; but the King must have his way and a place was provided for the Countess, who then declared that she had no wish to attend the ceremony, only to be asked to it; so embarrassment was spared. As soon as the ceremony was over King Frederick presented Fredy with a commission in his army and Alix with a medallion containing his portrait.

  When they returned to the Yellow Palace Louise took her daughter to a new room below that which she had shared with Dagmar. This had been prepared for her occupation, for her piano had been put in it and her bed was there.

  It was a symbol of growing up. She had a room of her own.

  She turned to Louise, who was standing beside her, and embraced her.

  ‘Oh, Mama, it’s wonderful.’

  ‘It means you are no longer a child, my dear.’

  Alix’s eyes were shining. ‘It’s wonderful … growing up,’ she said.

  A faint apprehension came into her mother’s eyes.

  ‘It’s as well to remember that it also has its responsibilities,’ she replied; and she was thinking of that list with Alix’s name at the bottom.

  * * *

  Then Wally arrived in Denmark. She was in fact the Countess Walburga von Hohenthal; she was beautiful, cosmopolitan, vivacious and therefore very attractive. She had come to Copenhagen to marry the English diplomat, Mr Augustus Paget, and with the simple friendliness they showed to visitors Christian and Louise invited Walburga to the Yellow Palace.

  She told Louise that she had heard of her charming family and hoped that she would be allowed to meet the members of it. This was arranged and the young Countess was enchanted by the good looks and perfect manners of the young people. She was especially attracted to Alix and was very soon invited to Ber
nstorff where leading the simple country life, it was very easy to become quickly on familiar terms.

  Wally was so amusing. She had come from Berlin and the Court of the Crown Princess, who had been the Princess Royal and eldest daughter of the Queen of England.

  ‘Poor Vicky,’ confided Wally to Alix, ‘she had a very trying time when she arrived. First she was forced to ride through the streets in the freezing weather in the kind of dress one would wear in a heated ballroom and when she arrived at the schloss she found it gloomy and it was said to be haunted, and I really think her mother-in-law enjoyed putting her next to the haunted chamber.’

  ‘How dreadful!’

  ‘Vicky is very self-reliant. She is in fact brilliant. But she needed someone to confide in and she chose me. And when Augustus goes to England I shall go with him. We shall be received at Court of course, and I shall be summoned to Vicky’s formidable mama and even more formidable papa and a report demanded of me.’

  Wally was a little disrespectful but Alix enjoyed that. What fun to be able to laugh and have little jokes with someone as brilliant as Walpurga.

  What Walpurga did not divulge to Prince Christian and Princess Louise was that she had been asked to report on Alix. Her mistress, Vicky, was very anxious that a bride should be found for her brother, the Prince of Wales; and the fact was that she had actually made a journey through Germany to inspect the Princesses who appeared on the list above Alix’s name. She was very critical and had found something wrong with every one of them.

  It was Wally – eager to have a say in affairs – who reminded her of number seven.

  ‘Augustus writes to me from Denmark that Princess Alexandra is a real beauty,’ she had said, ‘very carefully brought up by her clever mama – accomplished, healthy and beautiful … in fact everything that your brother Bertie could desire.’

  Vicky’s father, the Prince Consort of England, who had loved his daughter devotedly (and Wally, who collected gossip, had heard that Queen Victoria had resented this affection between her husband and their eldest daughter and was jealous of it) had asked her help in choosing a husband for Bertie. He had the utmost confidence in her judgement and she was eager to justify this.

  So she said: ‘You are going to Denmark to get married. What an opportunity. You can let me know if these reports of Alexandra are correct.’

  It was a mission after Wally’s heart.

  She was soon writing back glowing reports of Alix – a lovely girl, unspoilt, very beautiful, not intellectual – which by all accounts would just suit Bertie – but accomplished and well educated. In fact in Wally’s opinion, Alix was the perfect wife for the Prince of Wales.

  * * *

  It was time to set out for the annual visit to Rumpenheim. During the journey Alix and Dagmar speculated on who would be there this summer. They were both looking forward to the round of simple pleasures. Although Christian and Louise were well aware that feelers were being put out with regard to Alexandra’s virtues both parents were anxious that this should be kept from their daughter.

  ‘So many girls are told of brilliant prospects which don’t come to anything,’ said Christian. ‘I wouldn’t want Alix to be upset.’

  ‘It’s much better that she should be kept in ignorance of what’s afoot,’ agreed Louise. ‘But I’m not sure that it wouldn’t have been a good idea for you to take her to England.’

  ‘I’ll not have her paraded like a prize cow,’ declared Christian in the raised voice it was necessary to use to Louise, whose deafness had increased in the last years.

  ‘She would make a good impression.’

  ‘I’ve no doubt of it. I just say I won’t have her paraded.’

  Louise smiled at her husband. There was a great charm about him and this was accentuated by a certain innocence. When he came to the throne it could be for her to guide him.

  Nor was Alix the only member of the family about whom inquiries were being made. The charm of the girls had been discussed abroad; they were exceptionally good-looking and, what was more important, healthy. It was due to the outdoor life they had lived; and constant exercises had made them walk in a graceful fashion. Whenever they went to a theatre in Copenhagen which the King thought they should do now and then, they were always cheered by the people and it was said that the royal box with the Christian family in it was as great an attraction as what was going on on the stage.

  Now there was talk of a Russian marriage for Dagmar – the Tsarevitch, no less. With one daughter married to the ruler of England and another to that of Russia, Denmark’s position in the world would be far more significant than it was at this time.

  But Christian was saddened at the thought of losing his daughters; and the time for doing so was, he could not pretend otherwise, coming very near.

  This was proved on their arrival at Rumpenheim.

  A trip had been arranged to visit the Cathedral at Speier and Christian and Louise were to take their daughters, Alix and Dagmar. This was typical of the outings they enjoyed when at Rumpenheim, but this was an outing with a difference. The Crown Princess with the Prince and her son little Wilhelm was on a visit to Mecklenburg-Strelitz and she too wished to visit the cathedral at Speier on the very same day at the very same hour as Christian and Louise would be there with their two eldest daughters.

  As the carriage drove along and Alix and Dagmar called each other’s attention to the remembered landmarks, Christian was looking a little sadly at his eldest daughter. If she doesn’t like him, he thought, she is not going to be forced. I’ll not have our Alix made unhappy for all the princes in the world.

  Louise, watching him, followed his thoughts. Dear, good, kind Christian! She could not have had a more loving husband and a better father for her children. But he was unambitious. Perhaps that was what made him so lovable.

  The Cathedral rose before them.

  ‘It’s magnificent,’ said Dagmar. She was more interested in architecture than Alix was. She wanted to pause and examine the structure but Louise hurried her on.

  ‘You can look at that later,’ she said. ‘Let us get inside first.’

  They entered the Cathedral. Alix knew afterwards that this was one of the important moments of her life for entering at the other door was another little party – quite clearly an important one. The two groups hesitated and then a young woman came forward and Prince Christian went to meet her.

  Alix saw her father bow and beside the young woman was a young man – not tall but with a pleasant smile; and now her father was bringing them over.

  ‘My dear,’ he said, ‘I have the honour to present you to their Royal Highnesses the Crown Princess of Prussia and the Prince of Wales.’

  Walpurga’s Vicky, thought Alix. And … Bertie!

  He was smiling at her, rather conspiratorially, and she found this pleasant. He greeted Dagmar but his eyes came back to Alix. She flushed a little. He was very friendly.

  Vicky was saying: ‘My brother is on a visit and we are both staying for a few days with Aunt Augusta at Mecklenburg-Strelitz.’

  They started to talk about the Cathedral. What a pleasure to meet in this way. They could look at the Cathedral together. And they must of course arrange another meeting.

  Alix found herself walking beside Bertie.

  ‘How strange,’ she said, ‘that you should have walked in by one door just as we were coming in another.’

  ‘Very strange,’ he admitted with a smile as though he didn’t think it strange at all. ‘But do you know,’ he went on, ‘I think they planned it.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Well, as you said, it was too much of a coincidence …’

  ‘But why should they?’

  ‘Don’t you know?’ he asked.

  ‘No. Do you?’

  ‘Oh, I’ve a hazy idea.’

  ‘Do tell me.’

  He smiled at her in a way she found charming. ‘Do you know, I don’t think I will. I’ll leave you to guess. I’m sure it won’t take you long.’


  ‘It’s intriguing.’

  ‘I’m finding it so too.’

  They were laughing together and she saw Mama half turn to look at them and the Crown Princess too. Oh dear, she thought. Am I supposed to be solemn?

  She said quietly: ‘I think we are supposed not to laugh.’

  ‘In cathedrals or not at all?’

  ‘Oh, in cathedrals of course. Not at all would be quite out of the question.’

  ‘Quite,’ he agreed.

  ‘We are not looking at the wonderful pillars and the altar-pieces.’

  ‘Are you interested in them … honestly?’

  ‘Well, not very much.’

  ‘Nor am I.’

  They laughed again and she put her finger to her lips as though caught in some fault, which amused him.

  ‘To tell the truth,’ he said, ‘when I knew we were coming to a cathedral I protested.’

  ‘Do you always protest when you are asked to do something you don’t want to?’

  ‘To Vicky, yes. At home, no.’

  ‘At home. You mean at your mother’s court. I was there once. I met you. Do you remember?’

  He was going to say that he did but she knew he didn’t. ‘I’ll save you telling a lie,’ she said. ‘Of course you don’t. I was ten and very stupid. I’d never been anywhere and it was all very grand. You came to a party at Cambridge Lodge and I came to one at Buckingham Palace.’

  ‘Very solemn affairs,’ he said, ‘parties at Buckingham Palace.’

  ‘And you don’t like being solemn. But then who does?’

  ‘Some people do.’ His face darkened a little. She thought: He means his father. Oh, how lucky we are with Papa! Still, Bertie himself liked to laugh. So they went on talking and now and then laughing together and they suddenly realised that the tour of the Cathedral was over and the others were outside.