The Widow of Windsor (13 page)

‘My dearest Alix, how was it?’ he asked earnestly.

‘Oh, it was … quite pleasant.’

‘I was so worried about you.’

Alix felt she could have endured anything that evoked such concern in Bertie.

‘I do hope she wasn’t too demanding.’

‘No, we grew quite fond of each other.’

Bertie looked at her in wonderment. Beautiful, lively and able to endure the Queen! She was a paragon.

They travelled to Hanover together and then on to Cologne. The few days they were together were delightful and made up for anything she had endured during her stay in England.

Bertie talked a great deal about the things they would do when they were married. Then they would escape from the Queen’s surveillance. It was going to be very different for Bertie from what it had ever been before. Parliament would vote him a big allowance; she would have one, too, of course. They would be able to enjoy life. It was all going to be wonderful. But best of all, they would be free to live their own lives.

‘Of course the Queen will be there in the background,’ said Bertie, ‘but we shall be the leaders of fashion. My parents were never that. But the people will expect it of us. We are young and they’ll like us for that alone. They never liked my father.’

‘Is that really so?’

Bertie laughed. ‘Oh, you have had a diet of Mama’s special brand. Other people didn’t dote on him as she did. He didn’t believe in enjoying life. And that is something I believe in wholeheartedly. And, Alix, I believe you do too. That is why we are going to be ideally happy.’

Alix was thinking of river picnics and visits to Frankfurt and games on the lawns of Bernstorff. That was what she called being ideally happy. Bertie’s ideas were rather different. He wanted what he had glimpsed briefly so far – the society of amusing people, beautiful women who flattered him and were eager to be on friendly terms with the Prince of Wales, horseracing, gambling, gay parties, good food and wine. There was so much waiting for Bertie to enjoy once he had escaped from that yoke which his father had put about him and which his mother was endeavouring to keep tightly padlocked.

It was with great regret that they parted at Hamburg. Alix to return to Copenhagen to prepare for her wedding, Bertie to go back to Windsor.

He groaned when he considered what awaited him there. ‘The first anniversary of my father’s death; can you imagine, Alix, what that will be like?’

Having been there, she could.

‘I expect we shall spend the day in the Frogmore Mausoleum. It’s going to be unendurably melancholy.’

‘You’ll endure it,’ said Alix softly.

‘Yes, I shall, because I shall be thinking of you, and reminding myself that soon we shall be married. I shall be my own master then. And I’ll have you too.’

They embraced and Bertie went back to the house of mourning while Alix rode on in high spirits. Everything had gone so well. She was going to marry Bertie, and they loved each other and would be happy ever after.

Bertie hadn’t mentioned Curragh Camp. He had put it aside as unimportant. She did not want him to make a confession as the Queen thought he might. That was all over. Bertie would not wish to disturb her with such a thing. It didn’t matter in any case. The past was over. It was the future which was important and that lay before them, bright and promising great happiness.

Chapter VI

THE WEDDING AT WINDSOR

Rarely had there been such excitement in Copenhagen, and the heroine of the hour was Princess Alexandra. Ever since King Frederick had led his armies into battle over the Schleswig-Holstein controversy an uneasiness had prevailed with the King and his ministers because they knew that although it appeared that that particular war had been satisfactorily concluded this was not in fact the case. Schleswig-Holstein was like an ulcer in Denmark’s side – dormant at the time but ready to break out at any moment.

King Frederick came to the Yellow Palace to congratulate Prince Christian and Princess Louise on this forthcoming marriage.

‘But it is wonderful,’ he cried. ‘There is nothing that could please me more. Our beautiful Alexandra to become the Princess of Wales. You know how anxious we have been. This will mean that the English are our allies. The Prussians won’t dare to strike while we have England behind us.’

‘You think that Alix will have so much influence?’

‘My dear Louise, not Alix herself. Our dear girl is not made for politics. She has been born to charm. But England would come to our aid if the home of the Princess of Wales was attacked. There could not be anything that pleased me more. And now that the Russians are putting out feelers for Dagmar … why, Christian, my boy, you have served your country well through your daughters.’

To show his pleasure he presented Alix with a necklace composed of pearls and diamonds.

‘There, my dear,’ he said placing it round her neck, ‘whenever you wear this think of Denmark.’

Countess Danner, who had come to the Yellow Palace with Frederick, looked on sourly. She would have loved to possess such jewellery.

Later in her bedroom the family came to admire the necklace. Alix put it on rather gingerly and said that it did not match up with anything she had and she did not know when she would wear it.

‘You’ll wear it at balls and banquets to which you’ll go with your husband,’ said Thyra. ‘Oh, Alix, you’ll look marvellous. Shall you have a crown? Oh,
do
have a crown. That would be perfect. And think how it would match the necklace.’

Alix said that only Kings and Queens had crowns but a tiara would be very nice. But nine-year-old Thyra thought a crown would be best.

‘You’ll have to wait until the old Queen dies,’ she said. ‘Then you’ll get your crown.’

‘Oh, don’t talk about her dying,’ cried Alix.

‘Is it unlucky?’

‘I don’t know but I met her, you know, and in a way … I quite liked her. Besides, I should be terrified to be Queen. Princess of Wales will do very nicely for a start.’

Dagmar regarded her sister with solemn eyes. Thyra didn’t seem to realise that this was going to be the break-up of the family. In future when they went out riding or played their games or packed up for the summer visits to Rumpenheim, Alix would not be with them. Nothing would be the same again; and then very soon she herself might go away … perhaps to Russia.

Everyone was so excited and said it was such good fortune, but losing Alix from the family circle seemed just the opposite to Dagmar.

The Queen was sending despotic messages from Windsor. The wedding should take place in January. She saw no reason for delay.

‘Good Heavens,’ cried Louise, ‘she cannot dictate to us in this way. Imagine poor Alix leaving at that time of the year. The ports would doubtless be frozen up in any case. Besides, it is for us to say when the wedding shall be. January is far too soon.’

The Queen wrote back. She granted that the weather might prevent Alix’s coming in January, but her daughter Alice was due to have her baby in February and as it was Alice’s first and the confinement was to take place at Windsor, that made February out of the question.

March was agreed upon.

Uncle Leopold, not to be left out of the excitement, suggested that Alix should stay a few days in Brussels
en route
for England. It would give her a respite which would be much needed. It would also give Leopold an opportunity of grounding her in what he would expect of her when she was Princess of Wales. He would want to remind her that he had played his part in bringing about this brilliant marriage, also that he was the favourite uncle of the Queen and his opinions carried some weight with her.

The arrangements were finally agreed to and the deputations began to arrive at the Yellow Palace. All day long people were calling from the foreign embassies; the tradesmen came too and there were long speeches to be listened to, gifts to be accepted, elaborate and humble. The shoemakers of Copenhagen presented the Princess with a pair of gold embroidered shoes and the villagers of Bernstorff gave her porcelain vases in a wicker basket tied with ribbons in the colours of the flags of Denmark and England. These small gifts touched her more deeply than the diamond and pearl necklace given by the King.

The Queen wrote that she was presenting the bride with a wedding gown of Honiton lace and it was already being made for her. It would be one of her wedding presents to the Princess, to whom she always referred as dear sweet Alix, which confirmed the belief that Alix had made an unusually good impression on her.

The dark February days seemed to grow shorter and shorter. Poor Dagmar was very despondent and Alix knew that she herself was going to feel the separation deeply, but she had Bertie to comfort her while Dagmar had only her hopes – or fears – of the Russian alliance.

Each day the Rev. M. S. Ellis, who was Chaplain to the British Legation in Copenhagen, came to the Yellow Palace to instruct her in the form of Protestantism which was practised in England and was slightly different from the Lutheranism of Denmark.

Then there were the balls and receptions given in her honour. Wally’s husband – now Sir Augustus – gave a ball for her at the British Embassy. Wally was more vivacious than ever and obviously delighted that her efforts had borne fruit. She whispered to Alix that she looked beautiful and Bertie was going to be very proud of her. And Wally of course would pay frequent visits to England. ‘Don’t forget I’m married to an Englishman,’ she said with a grimace towards her handsome husband.

Alix’s grandparents gave a party for her and her grandfather was clearly delighted with her.

‘Such an ugly little thing you were when you were born,’ he kept reminding her.

Then of course there was the reception at the Yellow Palace when she must say good-bye to all those who had taught her and served her during her childhood. This was the saddest of them all.

Dear Miss Knudsen, who had taught her English and had become a friend, was very sad. Alix knew that she owed a great deal to her because under her tuition her English had become quite good. She had only the faintest accent which Bertie assured her was adorable and now and then she used expressions which might not have been exactly English but which she realised were quaint and charming.

Then came the last night in the Yellow Palace. Dagmar stayed late in her room and they sat talking of the past. Poor Dagmar, who was going to be lonely and was a little apprehensive. Dagmar was far cleverer than she was. Louise had always said so. Alix was not the clever one in the family, even though she might be the beauty.

‘You were always so much quicker at lessons than I,’ she told Dagmar to cheer her. ‘When you marry you’ll have nothing to fear. You will understand politics and everything. I’m lucky. Bertie told me he was glad I was not one of those clever women. He couldn’t abide them. Suppose he had been like his father. I would never have done.’

‘There aren’t many men like him, I suppose.’

‘According to the Queen, alas – according to Bertie, thank heaven – No!’

‘Bertie is a little disrespectful towards his dear papa.’

‘Bertie is honest. And
I
think he is much nicer than his saintly papa.’

‘I’m sure of that,’ said Dagmar.

Then they talked of tomorrow and the journey and the wedding. It was all so exciting.

‘I’m sure I shall never sleep tonight,’ said Alix.

But Dagmar said she would and kissing her good night went rather sorrowfully to her own room.

Alix tried to turn her attention to
The Heir of Redclyffe
which Miss Knudsen had lent her and which she said would improve her English. She must finish it because she must give it back to Miss Knudsen before she left for England.

Alix woke in her little room in the Yellow Palace on the 28th of February 1863 and the first thing she thought was: ‘I shall never sleep in this room again.’

She looked about it at the piano, the cabinet and the work table and remembered how when she had returned from her confirmation her mother had brought her up here and told her that now she was grown up she should have a room of her own. How important that had seemed! She had felt then that she had come to the greatest turning point in her life. But what was that compared with this?

Louise came in.

‘Well, my dear, this is the day and there is a great deal to do.’ She smiled wryly. ‘You must not be late in leaving.’

‘We are not to leave until this afternoon.’

‘No, but there is plenty to do before that.’

She was right; the morning was gone before she was ready for it, and then the carriages which would take them to the railway station were at the door.

The family were clustered round her. She was thankful that this was not the final farewell for they were all accompanying her to England for the ceremony; even little Valdemar was to come with them. He was only four and, although the ceremony would mean little to him, could not be left at home.

The streets of Copenhagen were crowded. The English marriage had been the main topic of conversation throughout the whole of Denmark ever since the Princess had gone to England and won the approval of the Queen. The English match was the best possible thing for Denmark which would be allied to that most powerful country through marriage; and with Prussian threats beginning to menace that was a very comforting thought. So there were cheers for the elegant girl who had given them this comfort; and how proud they were of her, for she looked very elegant in a brown silk dress with white stripes and a little bonnet perched on her head. Flowers were thrown at the carriage as it passed and people crowded round it so that at one time it seemed as though they would be unable to move. This was a loving demonstration and Alexandra was deeply moved by it.