The Widow of Windsor (20 page)

She raved to Bertie. Had not Lord Palmerston promised help to Denmark? Hadn’t he said: ‘I am convinced – we are convinced – that if any violent attempt were made to overthrow the rights and interfere with the independence of Denmark, those who made the attempt would find in the result that it would not be Denmark alone with which they would have to contend.’

Alix remembered it word for word; and what was he doing now … nothing. Denmark wanted more than sympathy.

Some members of Parliament flung those words in Palmerston’s face; but he was too wily for them. His sympathies were with Denmark because he could see the dangers to Europe of a strong Prussia; but he was not going to drag England into a war unless it was going to be very much to England’s advantage. He
had
made that remark, he had said, yes, he admitted it. But he had meant that he believed that some European country would come to the aid of Denmark; he had not meant England. It was more important to countries which were geographically nearer for instance, such as France, to preserve the peace of Europe, but the Emperor was remaining aloof. If the Emperor had intervened … but that was another story.

‘It’s perfidious,’ cried Alix in despair. ‘My country relied on England.’

Bertie was furious and ashamed, he said. So were the people. But many knew that Palmerston, though perhaps not morally right, was doing England the greater service by keeping her out of war.

By April the war was over – disastrously for Denmark. They had lost Schleswig-Holstein.

Chapter IX

JOHN BROWN COMES SOUTH

The Queen was scarcely ever in London and the people were getting restive. Surely it was the duty of the Sovereign to show herself now and then? The Queen retorted, when her ministers reproached her, that she worked unceasingly for the good of the country and she could not see how her parading in public did her subjects any good.

But even she was taken aback when several notices were stuck on the walls of Buckingham Palace announcing:

These premises to be let or sold in consequence of the late occupants declining business.’

Lord Palmerston laughed when he heard of it; but the Queen, who was at Osborne, was angry.

If people thought they were going to bring her out of retirement they were very much mistaken. She was a widow, and she was going on mourning for her husband; and during periods of mourning widows did
not
appear in public dressed in elaborate garments and sparkling with jewels.

Lord Palmerston shrugged his shoulders. ‘We have to continue to be grateful to the Prince and Princess of Wales,’ he said, ‘who have taken over so many of Your Majesty’s duties.’

‘Duties!’ she snapped. ‘Racing? Gambling? Mixing in questionable society?’

‘Oh, the people don’t hold that against the Prince,’ was Palmerston’s comment.

The Queen summoned her physician, Dr Jenner. The people must be made to understand that she was in no fit condition to parade in public. They must be made to have
some
understanding of a widow’s grief.

Dr Jenner gently suggested that it was more than two years since the Prince Consort’s death. Perhaps if she tried to emerge a little she would feel better for it.

She turned on him furiously. ‘Do you imagine that I shall ever feel better about my loss?’

Dr Jenner was silent, but he did think that if the Queen would try to get out more, ride more often, perhaps sit out of doors sketching, as she used to, it would be beneficial to her health.

‘Everything reminds me too much of him,’ she said.

A notice appeared in
The Times
to the effect that she would, as she always had done, perform her duty towards the State. More than that the Queen could not do.

But the people were not satisfied. What was the use of a Queen who was never seen? Rumours began to be circulated. Had she gone mad? Wasn’t there madness in the family? Was that why it was necessary for her to remain in seclusion?

It is not good, repeated Lord Palmerston warningly, for a Sovereign to hide himself – or herself – from the people.

Uncle Leopold, ageing though he was and finding it very difficult to totter about his palace because his rheumatism, so long imagined, had now become a reality, his cheeks painted to a healthy pink, a wig of luxuriously made curls on his head, could not resist adding his warning.

It seemed to him, he said, that the Prince of Wales was already King. He heard that wherever he and the Princess went they were cheered wildly.

This so incensed the Queen that she did agree to come to London and ride through the streets in an open carriage. It was amazing how many people came out to see her pass. There she sat bowing to them, acknowledging their greetings, which were vociferous, but wearing her black robes and widow’s cap to remind them that she was still in mourning for the wonderful man whom they no less than herself had lost.

‘I am sure,’ she said with satisfaction to Lord Palmerston, ‘that the Prince and Princess of Wales have never had a reception like that.’

Palmerston bowed. ‘Your Majesty will, I have no doubt, give your subjects more opportunities of displaying their loyalty.’

But soon she was back at Osborne, reading her diaries and going over every little detail in the house
he
had planned and looking forward to the time when she would go up to dear Balmoral where there were even more memories of him.

Alix was agitating to go to Denmark to see her family. She explained it to Bertie who was wonderfully sympathetic. She wanted to show her parents little Eddy, which was the name by which the new baby was known. Victor seeming strange somehow and he couldn’t be Bertie because of his father, and to call him plain Albert might seem like sacrilege; Christian was too foreign for the English and Edward was too solemn for such a scrap, so Eddy was the answer. Not only did she wish them to see the baby but she also wanted to explain to them that she had done her best for them, that it was not her fault that England had been so perfidious and left them to the mercy of the Prussians and the Austrians.

‘Go to Denmark!’ cried the Queen. ‘That would be
most
unwise.’

Alix could be very stubborn. ‘She doesn’t understand, Bertie. They are my family. And I love them … dearly. You can’t understand what it was like to have a kind good father and a mother who loved you tenderly. I must see them now. Imagine how they will be suffering.’

Bertie understood. He said he would stand firm and insist. After all he was of age. He was not going to allow his mother to treat him as a boy in the nursery even though she was the Queen.

On this occasion Bertie did rouse himself; he was rather worried about Alix, who had grown very thin and was clearly not the carefree girl he had married. He was genuinely fond of her and made up his mind to do his best for her, and so insistent was he that the Queen, with some reluctance, agreed to the trip.

She confided to her acting secretary, General Grey, that Bertie was inclined to be indiscreet and General Knollys, who had been appointed his governor after General Bruce had died, did not always appear to have the necessary control over him. There had been the affair of Garibaldi whom Bertie had met when he had come to England in April. Bertie did not seem to understand his position and the fact that he made a point of meeting the Italian leader could be construed as British approval of his methods. Bertie was indeed very rash and had defended Garibaldi as a patriot who was not in the least like a revolutionary. How foolish Bertie could be! He had to learn the rule of Royalty; they stood together and this was particularly important in a world which had so recently been shaken by revolution.

Now he wanted to go to Denmark at such a difficult time. And of course if it were known that Alix wished to visit her family to introduce her father to his new grandson and that the Queen had refused to allow this, there would be an outcry. People never understood; they confused
family
relationships with those of the State.

She sent for Bertie. She would agree to the visit. But there must be conditions. For instance what would their German relations think if he went to Denmark, the enemy with whom they were so recently at war? He must remember that little Eddy was an heir to the throne and he must therefore not be out of the country for more than three weeks. He must not forget also to visit his German relations; he must make it perfectly clear that he was not only the son-in-law of the King of Denmark but also the son of Albert and Victoria.

‘That is something I am not likely to forget, Mama,’ said Bertie with a twinkle in his eye which was disturbing because he could smile when he mentioned his father’s name.

So in September Bertie and Alix set off in the royal yacht
Osborne
with their baby and a very small party which included Lord and Lady Spencer, Sir William Knollys and two doctors, for little Eddy was still very frail.

The Queen had taken the precaution of commanding General Grey to write to Sir Augustus Paget, the British ambassador in Denmark, to keep an eye on the Prince of Wales, lest he be guilty of indiscretion. She wished the ambassador to know that this was the worst possible time for such a visit and she deplored it but she had forced herself to understand the natural desire of a daughter to see her parents, particularly after she had recently given birth to their grandchild.

Bertie was prepared to have a good time in Denmark and it did not occur to him that he might not be welcome. He was soon made to realise that although he was Alix’s husband he was also the Prince of Wales, the future King of a country which Denmark considered had deserted it in its hour of need; he was regarded with suspicion and the cheers were all for Alix. But Bertie’s greatest gift was his convivial spirit; after his lack of popularity with his parents he had been astonished when he had first discovered public response to his temperament; now he had come to regard it as a matter of course. It did not occur to him that the people should not like him; and very soon they saw his point of view, for it was indeed impossible not to like this young man. He was undistinguished in appearance but seemed the more lovable for that, because really with his rather weak chin and not very tall stature he was charming, and his attention to his wife was gallant and pleasant to behold.

It was not very long before the people of Denmark were cheering the Princess
and
the Prince of Wales.

They had landed at Elsinore where the King and Queen of Denmark were waiting to meet them. Alix flew into her father’s arms and for some moments would not look at him. Dearest Papa, who had never wanted to be King of Denmark anyway. How he must have suffered! When at last she looked into his face, she saw how he had changed. Anxiety had marked his handsome face. And Mama? Queen Louise had changed less. What a support she must have been through all the tribulations, but she had grown very deaf and could scarcely hear what was said, And there were Fredy and Dagmar – quite a young woman now and good-looking – and Thyra and Valdemar, the whole dear family, except Willy who had become King George of Greece.

‘Alix, my love,’ said her mother, ‘you’ve grown thinner.’

‘I’ve been so
worried
about you all.’

‘We needed help … badly … and it didn’t come,’ said Louise shortly.

‘Mama, dearest, you must understand that I did
everything
, just everything I could.’

‘I know you did, my love.’

‘And so did Bertie. There were such quarrels but he did all he could …’

‘We won’t talk of it now, Alix.’

The Burgomaster welcomed the visitors with a speech which might have been a reproach to the Prince of Wales.

‘Abandoned as Denmark is by all the world,’ he said, ‘and crushed by overwhelming superiority, I hope that the visit of our Princess and her husband will be the beginning of brighter days for the country.’

Bertie applauded imperturbably so all accepted the fact that what had happened was no fault of his.

They drove to the royal Palace of Fredensborg, a beautiful residence on the lake of Esrom, which now that Christian was King had fallen to him.

It was a bitter-sweet experience for Alix to be home with her family. There was so much to remind her of the old days and yet how changed it was – how sadly so in spite of the fact Christian and Louise had become King and Queen.

Alix liked to walk in the gardens with Dagmar and talk of the past. But Dagmar wanted to hear about life in England and Alix found herself talking freely. Staying at Fredensborg was the young Czarevitch Nicholas who was courting Dagmar.

Dagmar liked to hear about Alix’s arrival in England and was wondering what hers would be like in Russia. She loved little Eddy and thought it was marvellous that Alix had a baby of her own. So did Alix. She wanted lots of children, she told Dagmar, and to look after them herself so that she had a happy family as theirs used to be in the Yellow Palace.