Born to Rule: Five Reigning Consorts, Granddaughters of Queen Victoria

by Julia P. Gelardi

  In Athens, decorated with Greek flags and crowded with citizens cheering lustily for their royal family, a Te Deum was said in the Metropolitan Cathedral with Sophie and the royal family attending. Those same crowds were far less enthusiastic when members of the diplomatic corps made their way to the cathedral. Instead of cheers, they were met by an eerie silence or mocked with chants of “Down with the Europeans!” The blockade which the Great Powers had imposed upon Greece to keep weapons and supplies flowing freely from the mainland to Crete was met with derision by the Greeks. Only the royal family received loud and approving cheers that day, cheers that echoed the country’s mood— “Long live the King” and the ever ominous “Hurray for War.”21

  War between the Greeks and Turks broke out in April 1897, prompting a frantic Vicky to confess to Queen Victoria that “what Tino and Sophie are going through makes me quite miserable.” Moreover, “William’s personal hatred to Greece and enmity to the King and whole Royal family is well known everywhere and does not improve matters.”22 One British diplomat in Berlin noted how “the Government papers urge the extinction of the ‘miserable country— people, dynasty and all.’ “23 Sophie was indignant that her brother could be so callous. Her mother sympathized completely: “oh my Sophie how well I understand the state you are in!…Pray do not think I suffer less because I am William’s mother.”24

  Constantine failed to meet his military objectives and was forced to retreat into Thessaly. Toward the end of April, all was over for the Greeks. Prince Nicholas recalled how his brother, Tino, “though aware from the very first of the many deficiencies of the Army, had never let personal consideration interfere with the fulfilling of his duty.” Therefore, “how far more bitter were the feelings of the Crown Prince, who suffered not only as a Greek, but even more in his capacity of soldier, and Commander-in-Chief.”25

  Angered by being trounced so soundly, the Greek people turned on their leaders. “Not being able to understand the true cause of the disaster, they began to accuse of treason” those in high places.2 As it turned out, King George, Crown Prince Constantine, and the royal family bore the brunt of the accusations. Edward Egerton, the British minister in Athens, reported to London that crowds were gathering in Athens with the avowed intention of attacking the Royal Palace. “It is difficult to imagine anything more painful and humiliating than the position of the King and Royal Family.…Today in Church the prayer for the Royal Family could not be said by the Metropolitan owing to the cries and hisses of the congregation.” There was not much sympathy from the local media, either. “The language of the press,” noted Egerton, “was most insulting to the king.”27

  Vicky implored Sophie to be careful: “Your safety and that of darling Tino and the children…is now my first care and anxiety. Is it wise for you all to remain in the town? Would you not be safer where there is no mob? Have you ever thought of having your valuables and jewels and papers packed up and sent on board a German or English ship?”28

  Queen Victoria was equally sick with worry, telling Vicky “how my heart bleeds for our darling Sophie and you as well. And to think of William’s shameful behavior, for he it is who has urged this on!”29 The queen also sent Sophie a message of support. Edward Egerton replied, saying that “H.R.H. the Crown Princess is deeply touched by your Majesty’s loving sympathy. She is terribly worried and anxious, and tries to keep up, though low-spirited.”30

  The Empress Frederick tried to encourage Sophie, stressing that “it is no use to spend one’s energies in only complaining, one must try to get out of the mess. You are Papa’s daughter, so I know you will be courageous and patient, as he was, and do your duty as he did.…I have written a long letter to William to do what he can to help, and I bombard my dear Mama with letters and telegrams.”31

  On 9 May, Queen Victoria conceded in her journal: “Had another urgent appeal from poor little Sophy, and answered that nothing could be done by us alone, that Greece must yield to the conditions of the Powers.”32 Earlier that day, the queen instructed Egerton to pass on the following message to Sophie’s father-in-law, King George: “You know how deeply I feel for you, your children, and your country. I have done all in my power to obtain easier terms for you but without success.…For the sake of humanity I now urge you to yield. I grieve for you all.”33

  Wilhelm II reveled in the discomfiture felt by his sister in Athens. Nor did he have much sympathy for Tino. The Kaiser saw to it that his sister and brother-in-law would not find help from Germany easily. Willy ordered his ambassador in Athens to hold back from cooperating fully with his counterparts, insisting that Greece suffer further humiliations.

  Then, envisioning himself as the saviour of Greece and harbinger of peace, he responded to Queen Victoria’s request to intervene: “I am happy to be able to communicate to you that, after the King and Government had begged for my intervention through Sophy, and after having officially notified to my Minister and again through Sophy to me personally that they unconditionally accepted the conditions I had proposed, I have ordered Baron v. Plessen to take the necessary steps to restore peace in conjunction with the representatives of the other Powers.”34

  Hostilities ceased on 17 May 1897. Unfortunately, the Greek royal family’s woes continued to escalate. So unpopular were Sophie and Constantine that “they were jeered at and spat on in the streets and there were demands for him to be court-martialled.”35 Sadly for Sophie, her dedication to the wounded soldiers through her ministrations in the Red Cross hospitals was ignored or forgotten.

  The Empress Frederick and Queen Olga had both been active patrons in the nursing field; Sophie followed their examples and improved nursing care in Greece. Sophie’s youngest daughter, Katherine, later recalled that her mother “brought English nurses over from England, which was very difficult in those…to teach the Greek nurses.”3

  In addition, the crown princess advanced other social initiatives in the fields of childhood education and feeding the destitute. The Union of Greek Women “owed much to her inspiration and encouragement.”37 When the organization was a year old in 1897, it already had its hands full. The fledgling institution was busy preparing for a worst-case scenario. With war on the horizon, the Union directed “refugee work, purchasing medical supplies, outfitting a hospital, and giving lectures on care of the wounded.”38

  Crown Princess Sophie did not focus her energies solely in Athens. She visited Larissa, where she supervised hospitals for the wounded and dying, going about her exhausting work amid the deafening boom of artillery fire. “Sophie converted an immense building which had just been finished as a military school into a hospital,” noted her sister-in-law, Marie, “and worked there for the greater part of every day”39 When she was not making her rounds caring for the sick and injured, Sophie (along with Queen Olga) sat in on final examinations of the Red Cross nurses.

  The sights that greeted Crown Princess Sophie during her hospital visits were often heart-wrenching. At a military hospital at Lamia, Sophie prayed at the bedside of a dying Greek soldier. While a priest dipped the bread in wine and gave the dying man the sacraments, Sophie, Queen Olga, and some Greek officers “followed the service reverently, crossing themselves as the poor, weak fellow made his devotions.”40

  The sight of this dying man receiving the sacraments made a strong impression on Sophie. Not long afterwards, when several of the Red Cross nurses were invited to dine with the royal family on board their yacht, the Sphacteria, Sophie spoke at length to one of them, Harriet Boyd Hawes. An American volunteer, Harriet found Sophie extremely likable and devoted to the Greek people. Harriet often saw the crown princess in Athens attending first aid courses. And that evening on the yacht, Sophie’s first words upon meeting with Harriet “were to ask after the soldier…who had received the last rites while she stood near his bedside. Then she wanted to know at length about hospitals in the States, particularly Johns Hopkins.”41

  Even after war’s end, Sophie continued to make her hospital rounds, comfortin
g the wounded and encouraging the overworked nurses and doctors in such places as the English hospital at Chalcis, which was recognized for its efficiency. These attempts on Sophie’s part did not go unnoticed. When the Empress Eugénie visited Athens in August 1897, she was impressed, and told Queen Victoria so. The queen in turn passed on the empress’s firsthand account to Vicky: “Today I saw the Empress Eugénie who, as you know, has been to Athens and seen Olga and darling Sophie who, she said, did not look ill and who she spoke of in the highest terms, her anxiety, her devotion. You would have been pleased to hear her.”42

  Queen Victoria was among those who wanted to see Sophie credited for her tireless efforts on behalf of the Greek people. The queen asked Vicky if she might not send a red enamel cross for those “who had helped the Red Cross Societies or done independent work for the sick and wounded.” The queen noted of Queen Olga and Princess Sophie, “you know they nursed Turks also in their hospitals.”43

  Victoria wanted Sophie and Queen Olga to be officially recognized for the services they rendered, ordering her private secretary, Sir Arthur Bigge, to look into the matter. Bigge concluded that a royal Order of the Red Cross could not be granted to either woman because of their nationality, unless “the Crown Princess received it as a British Princess.”44 Since this was impossible, Queen Victoria then asked “whether it would not be possible to alter the statutes of the order so as to enable the Sovereign to bestow it upon any Royal person independent of their nationality.”45 No objections were raised to this request. And so in December 1897, Queen Olga and Crown Princess Sophie duly received the Royal Order of the Red Cross.

  By year’s end, the Empress Frederick admitted to the Bishop of Ripon that the year had been a “most trying and harassing” one. And above all, “the anxiety and sorrows about poor Greece were terrible.” Queen Olga of the Hellenes called it “the never to be forgotten year….”47

  The family’s fortunes changed dramatically in February 1898, when King George and his daughter, Princess Marie, were nearly shot to death by would-be assassins. Instantly, the tide turned in the Greek royal family’s favor. The would-be assassins had accomplished what they surely had not set out to do. Hostility turned into sympathy for the royals. But this interlude of peace and popularity was not to last. A pattern had begun in Greece, one that was to appear with perplexing regularity. In the ensuing years the royal family was to find itself riding a pendulum that would swing wildly in both extremes. And much to her chagrin, Sophie would find herself playing no small part in the royal family’s misfortunes.

  On the sixtieth anniversary of Queen Victoria’s ascension to the throne, 22 June 1897, the queen rode in state to St. Paul’s Cathedral. In the procession were a number of her relations. One youngster in particular reveled in the attention and panoply around her. She was none other than ten-year-old Ena of Battenberg. Her cousin and companion in the carriage, Princess Alice of Albany, recalled how “very excited” Ena was, and that her “pretty looks attracted the attention of the crowds.”48

  One happy event that occurred in the midst of Queen Victoria’s Diamond Jubilee celebrations was the birth of the Grand Duchess Tatiana to Tsarina Alexandra. Though both baby and mother were healthy, Tatiana’s arrival was nevertheless greeted with disappointment. According to one account, the appearance of the tsarina’s second baby met with silence. Awakening from the effects of the chloroform, Alix saw around her “anxious and troubled faces.” The new mother took this to mean that she had failed to give birth to a son. The anguished mother “burst into loud hysterics,” crying out: “My God, it is again a daughter. What will the nation say, what will the nation say?”49

  Back in Greece, meanwhile, Sophie tried not to dwell on the problems that had plagued her family in the wake of her country’s losses, but it was difficult at times, as Maurice de Bunsen, then first secretary at the British Embassy in Constantinople (later to become British ambassador in Madrid, 1906–13), noted. De Bunsen met the crown princess in Athens in November 1898, and recorded his impressions, noting: “She was very agreeable, and we had a long tête à tête. Life at Athens is evidently a great trial to her.”50

  A bright spot in all the turmoil surrounding Crown Princess Sophie’s life were her children. The Empress Frederick proudly told Queen Victoria of the queen’s Greek great-grandchildren: “I wish indeed you could see Sophie’s children. The elder is a most interesting child. The second a really splendid child— enormous blue eyes with dark eyelashes, a steep forehead with wavy dark hair, a lovely mouth and a little turned-up nose and dimples in his pink cheeks.…Little Ellena (Sitta as they call her) is so sweet and pretty but very shy and a little fretful at times, which will wear off when she gets older.”51

  As the nineteenth century drew to a close, Sophie, Missy, and Alix were the mothers of a rapidly growing brood of children. But of the three, only Alexandra still yearned for a firstborn son. To her dismay, the tsarina was still not very popular, especially among the smart set of St. Petersburg. Relations with her mother-in-law, the Dowager Empress Marie, remained frosty, and though Nicholas and Alexandra were happily married, there was no denying the fact that her inability to provide the much-desired male heir for the Romanov dynasty was proving a great disappointment to many, not least Alix herself.

  Alexandra was never well during her pregnancies, nor did she have an easy time giving birth. This was true again in June 1899, when she gave birth for the third time, but both mother and child pulled through. Hopes, though, were dashed when it became known that the tsarina had produced a third girl, Marie Nicolaevna. The baby’s aunt, Grand Duchess Xenia, summed up people’s feelings: “What a disappointment that it isn’t a son. Poor Alix!”52 Even Nicholas II felt let down by the birth of a third daughter. Unable to face his wife and fearful of showing his disappointment, the tsar took a long walk in the park to collect himself before greeting Alix immediately after the birth.

  Queen Victoria, too, could not help but express her disappointment to Nicholas, telling him: “I regret the 3rd girl for the country. I know that an Heir would be more welcome than a daughter.”53 Nicky’s sadness in no way diminished his love for his wife. In a letter to Alix less than a month after Marie’s birth, he expressed his devotion by saying: “I dare complain the least, having such happiness on earth, having a treasure like you my beloved Alix, and already the three little cherubs. From the depth of my heart do I thank God for all His blessings, in giving me you He gave me paradise and has made my life an easy and happy one. Labour and passing troubles are nothing to me once I have got you by my side.”54

  During her final years on the throne, contemporary events prevented Queen Victoria from ruling peacefully. Instead, the queen was absorbed by a war that demanded all her courage, resilience, and optimism, particularly when word from the battlefront brought bad news.

  The Boer War was raging in South Africa, inflicting heavy casualties on British troops. By the time the conflict ended, nearly 450,000 men had come to fight, and of that number, over 20,000 were to die. Yet when the queen had to comment on the staggering setbacks inflicted by the Boers on her troops, she projected a confident, even defiant mood. Despite one week (known as Black Week) in December 1899 in which three British generals and the men fighting under their command were vanquished in quick succession, the queen revealed an indomitable spirit. “Please understand that there is no one depressed in this house,” Victoria declared. “We are not interested in the possibilities of defeat; they do not exist.” It was not mere grandstanding on the queen’s part. Even in her own private journal, in which she confided her innermost thoughts, she did not let slip any signs of doubt or fear. On the contrary, ever since Black Week, as Lady Longford has remarked, her entries had been nothing but “a model of vigorous courage—no complaints, no self pity”55

  Though in frail health, the queen did her utmost to rally her soldiers’ spirits in times of darkness. She visited hospitals, not minding if her soldiers saw their sovereign in physical decline as she ma
de her rounds. And in her spare time, Victoria, now nearly blind, worked in helping to create such useful items as caps, socks, cholera belts, waistcoats, and khaki comforters for the British troops still fighting. This kind of unselfish devotion to duty would later reappear in her reigning granddaughters.

  As Crown Princess Sophie kept abreast of the conflict in South Africa, her thoughts went out to her grandmother at this time of trial. In one letter to the queen, in February 1900, Vicky reported that “Sophie writes to me as follows: ‘How is dearest Grandmama bearing all this; it is so trying for her.’ Sophie did what she could for the fighting men of the British Army, despatching personal items. Queen Victoria did not forget this kind gesture and told the Empress Frederick, “I telegraphed to dear Sophie ‘thank you’ for so kindly sending things to our brave soldiers.”57 The tide eventually turned in favor of the British later in the year with the relief of Mafeking. In the end, Queen Victoria’s faith in her troops in their darkest hour was vindicated.

  Envious of Missy’s position as the boy’s mother, the childless Queen Elisabeth of Romania continued to isolate young Carol, imposing a disagreeable governess who turned the boy further against his mother. Missy’s problems did not go unnoticed by her numerous relations. Empress Frederick told Sophie firmly what she thought of it all: “I think Missy of Roumania is more to be pitied than you. The King is a great tyrant in his family, & has crushed the independence in Ferdinand so that no one cares about him, & his beautiful & gifted little wife, I fear, gets into scrapes, & like a butterfly, instead of hovering over the flowers, burns her pretty wings by going rather near the fire!”58