by Jean Plaidy
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.
They came into the sunshine. Alix was flushed and happy; so was the Prince of Wales. It had been a very pleasant encounter.
Christian and Louise were making further arrangements with the Crown Princess.
She and her husband were going on an expedition to Heidelberg the next day. Wouldn’t it be pleasant if they all went?
So the next day there was a trip to Heidelberg and there Alix extended her acquaintance with the Prince of Wales.
They had so much to talk and laugh about; he described life at Buckingham Palace and Windsor which was certainly solemn. His father thought young men ought to spend their time studying and not succumb to frivolous pleasure. Poor Bertie, she was sorry for him. He did have rather a hard time.
‘Still,’ she told him, ‘the time will soon come when you will be your own master.’
‘I can’t wait for it,’ he said, his eyes gleaming.
She described the Yellow Palace to him and the fun they had at Bernstorff and Rumpenheim; he listened attentively, and she knew that he had had a very different childhood.
She felt warmly protective towards him and it was then that she began to fall in love with him.
Before they said good-bye he gave her a photograph of himself which she accepted eagerly.
The Crown Princess was delighted; she found Alexandra all that she had been described as being. She was certain that she was the wife for Bertie. Christian and Louise were happy too. It would be wonderful if this brilliant marriage which any parent would want for a child should also prove to be a love match.
Back at Rumpenheim Louise and Christian lay awake at night talking of the meeting between their daughter and the Prince of Wales.
There was no doubt that the young people had been taken with each other. They were both young and attractive; even so it seemed too much to hope for.
‘Of course I can see why the English want the match,’ said Louise. ‘They’re afraid of Prussia. Prussia is after expansion and has its eyes on Schleswig-Holstein. England wouldn’t want a strong Prussia, and Denmark stands as a buffer between the two. I doubt that Belgium would want it either.’
‘No, King Leopold is in favour of the marriage.’
‘It is a very desirable state of affairs,’ said Louise.
‘Providing she loves him. I wouldn’t have it otherwise.’
‘She’s in love with … or half-way there. He’s a very attractive young man.’
‘But not very serious.’
‘He’s young yet. I heard Thyra teasing Alix, asking her why she always blushes when the Prince of Wales is mentioned. There’s no doubt in my mind. It’s a perfect match.’
And so it seemed. Alix carried Bertie’s picture with her always, and looked at it frequently. He was such fun, not
at all serious; he wanted to laugh and be gay all the time. Poor Bertie, who had really had rather a sad childhood. He had told her how clever Vicky was and how particularly when he was younger he had felt so inadequate in her company.
There was no need for Bertie to feel inadequate. She assured him of this and he liked to be assured.
She had guessed why they had met in the Cathedral. She had understood the speculative glances. They wanted her and Bertie to love each other because they thought Bertie would be a good husband for her.
She talked it over with Dagmar who was very likely going to Russia.
‘How far we shall be from each other!’ she cried in dismay.
‘We must visit often and we must write. Promise, Alix.’
Alix promised.
They were going to be rich, both of them. How different it would be from making their own dresses and changing them when they came in for fear they might be spoiled.
‘It will be wonderful,’ said Alix, ‘but we shall miss each other sadly.’
‘We’ll have husbands and perhaps children.’
‘Yes,’ said Alix slowly. ‘I suppose that would make up for it in a way.’
There was no topic as frequently discussed in the household as that of the marriages of the two girls, but each day Alix waited for some news from England and none came.
One day they were all assembled in the music room and Alix knew that something dreadful had happened because of her parents’ solemn expressions.
‘The Prince Consort is dead,’ said Christian. ‘The poor Queen is stricken in her grief.’
‘Will this make any difference?’ Louise anxiously asked Christian.
‘I don’t know. The Prince was an astute politician. He would understand the importance of Schleswig-Holstein to Europe and the need for a strong Denmark.’
‘The Queen has able ministers.’
Christian nodded. ‘But, of course, a death like this is certain to delay matters.’
‘I do think something definite should have been arranged by now. It is a little undignified to keep Alix dangling. We don’t know whether she is betrothed or not.’
‘She is not … yet.’
‘Oh, Christian, I believe you don’t want this marriage.’
‘I want her to be happy,’ he said. ‘And I suppose I want to keep the family together as long as possible. When she goes … and Dagmar goes …’
‘Then we shall have to find matches for the others.’
‘What a politician you are.’
‘I need to be. Don’t forget we have our own destinies.’
Christian frowned slightly. How much more peaceful if they had been able to go on living at the Yellow Palace and the girls could have married local noblemen. But for Alix to go right away to England and Dagmar to Russia … How could he be pleased about that!
Louise had a quiet talk with Alix in the latter’s new room at the Yellow Palace.
‘You love your room to yourself,’ said Louise with a smile.
‘Oh yes, Mama, I do. It’s not as though Dagmar is far away.’
‘And, my dear, have you thought that soon you may not be needing this room?’
‘You mean I shall go away.’
‘If you go to England and marry.’
Alix blushed.
‘My dearest child, do you love the Prince of Wales?’
‘I … I don’t know.’
‘If I were to tell you you were to prepare to leave for England tomorrow how would you feel?’
‘If he really loved me … I should be happy. I should be miserable, though, if it were arranged … just because it was suitable.’
‘So if he loved you … you could love him.’
‘Yes, Mama.’
That was good enough; Louise could tell Christian that he need have no qualms.
Christian was pleased when he heard this.
‘Nothing should stand in their way, I suppose,’ he said.
But still there was no news from England.
Princess Alice was married to Prince Louis of Hesse-Darmstadt and by all accounts the ceremony had been more like a funeral than a wedding, with the Queen brooding over them all in her widow’s weeds.
The Queen of England, deprived of the presence of that Beloved Being, had no heart for anything but mourning.
But there were forces at work. The world must go on even though the Prince Consort was dead. Leopold of the Belgians who was watching events in Europe, and particularly in England and Prussia, with very special interest, was determined that the match between Alix and Bertie should take place.
He wrote to the Queen and told her that it was necessary for the Prince of Wales to marry and the Princess of Denmark seemed the ideal match. He would arrange a meeting between the Queen on one side and Alix and her parents on the other. And this meeting should take place at Leopold’s Laeken Palace.
The Queen rather reluctantly agreed.
Alix and her parents were to have a little holiday in Belgium and while they were at Ostend they would go to Brussels and perhaps stay for a day or so as the guests of King Leopold at the Laeken Palace.
Alix was warned by her mother. ‘The Queen is on a pilgrimage to Coburg where the Prince Consort was born; she will be at Laeken and is anxious to meet you. You will have to be very careful for they say she is very stricken by the death of the Prince.’
Alix was uneasy because it was clear that her parents were too. She had been surprised that a young man whom she had met only twice could have made such a deep impression on her; she had tried not to think too much of him because she had quickly realised that the marriage had not yet been finally decided on; and the more she thought of it, the more inclined she was to think it might never take place. After all, who was she? The eldest daughter of the heir to the throne of Denmark it was true, but Denmark was a small country and they were poor and had led rather simple lives. She had heard that Bertie was carrying out a tour of the Far East which had been planned before his father had died. ‘The Queen is anxious that everything the Prince planned before his death should be put into effect,’ her mother told her. But her mother was uneasy and she wondered why.
They told her so little. For instance, in the first place they had said they were going on a holiday to Belgium, and Uncle Leopold had invited them to Laeken. They did not say that she was to be there on approval as it were, as the Queen was going to inspect her – for that was what it amounted to.
If the Queen did not like her, then everything would be forgotten. That possibility made her unhappy, which showed that she was in love – or ready to be. When one was young and inexperienced it was difficult to understand one’s feelings entirely.
They spent a few days in Ostend and all the time they were thinking of the trip to Laeken. Alix was right when she guessed that her parents were uneasy. There had been rumours about a certain affair at the Curragh Camp in which the Prince of Wales had been involved. Christian thought that the Prince was perhaps inclined to be immoral.
Louise tried to excuse him. ‘He is young. Most young men indulge in these adventures in their youth. As long as he settles down when he is married all will be well.’
‘As long as he doesn’t make our Alix unhappy,’ agreed Christian.
‘He seemed fond of her.’
‘Perhaps he is fond of all good-looking girls.’
‘Which is natural.’
‘But I fancy she is more fond of him than he of her.’
‘Well, he appears to be a young man who likes a little gaiety. He may not show his feelings as readily as a young and innocent girl does.’
Christian smiled fondly at his wife. ‘Oh, you are a statesman, Louise. More than I shall ever be. You are determined to make the best of this marriage.’
‘Make the best of it! Why, if it came about Alix would have made the most brilliant marriage in Europe.’
‘Only if she were happy,’ reiterated Christian.
And so they talked and the time had come to m
ake the journey to Laeken Palace.
Chapter V
THE QUEEN AND ALIX
Shrouded in her widow’s weeds, the Queen arrived at Laeken.
She threw herself into Leopold’s arms and burst into tears.
‘My dearest Uncle,’ she sobbed, ‘you see the most desolate creature in the world.’
‘My precious child,’ soothed Leopold, ‘I understand. I have suffered myself.’
‘Darling Aunt Louise,’ murmured the Queen, but nothing of course could compare with the loss of That Saint. ‘A year ago he was with us … I had no idea … Oh, Uncle.’
Lenchen whispered: ‘Bear up, Mama,’ and she looked at her sister Louise and sighed. Afterwards she said that she wanted to remind Mama – if it could have been possible to make such an observation, which of course it wasn’t – that they had come to discuss a wedding not a death.
Leopold led the Queen to the room which had been prepared for her and all the time she was weeping and talking of the perfections of her beloved Albert.
The Queen retired to her room and said that she would take her meals there in solitude.
‘The Christians will be here tomorrow for luncheon,’ Leopold reminded her. ‘And they are bringing Alexandra with them.’
The Queen nodded without much interest. ‘I find it hard to consider a wedding at such a time,’ she told Leopold. ‘What a sad occasion Alice’s was! And how different it might have been! As for Bertie … I can scarcely bear to think of him. When I think of that angel’s going to Cambridge in that bitter weather and catching his death …’
The Queen broke down again. But she did brighten up a little when she heard that Walpurga Paget was joining them at Laeken. Walpurga had been loud in her praises of Alexandra and had played quite a large part in bringing Alix to the notice of the British royal family. So it seemed fitting that Walpurga should be present. Moreover the Queen had always liked her. Wally was a born gossip and so at heart was Victoria; it was only because Albert deplored the habit that she had succeeded in hiding her love of it.
The next morning Leopold was eagerly making his preparations. He was very anxious for the marriage to take place and he was delighted that it should be he who had arranged the meeting. He was going to do everything he could to get the betrothal formally settled. It was a little depressing that the Queen made such a show of nursing her grief. A little solemnity yes, a little wiping of the eyes, a very proper expression of grief, all that was permissible, and moreover necessary, but the Queen’s attitude was positively morbid.
