When she walked out with her mother wearing the new dress or jacket which she had helped to make she would be very conscious of its cut and would compare it with clothes worn by others; on her return she would, on her mother’s orders, take it off, put on something less precious, and hang it up in her wardrobe so that it should be fresh when next required. There were the visits to Rumpenheim which still went on in spite of the war. There Alix became aware that her clothes were very simple compared with those of her female relations.
‘Never mind,’ said her mother. ‘You wear yours so much better that they look as good.’
This impressed Alix. It was true. Some of them slouched or did not stand up straight. She must remember that.
They continued with their physical exercises.
‘Papa will expect it when he comes home,’ said Louise.
And at last Papa did come home.
What rejoicing there was! It was just as Fredy had said all those years ago – it seemed an age – when the war had started. The bands played; there were marches through the streets; uniforms and general rejoicing. Uncle Frederick had won his war against the rebels of Schleswig-Holstein. Denmark was safe and the King was a hero. So was Prince Christian.
How proud they all were and how delighted the Prince was to be home with his family!
Mama played the piano and they all sang Danish songs. Songs of Triumph now. No need to ask for God’s help. They had won the war. They were safe.
Papa explained it all to them and they listened eagerly.
Schleswig-Holstein had ‘come to its senses’; it was content now to be part of Denmark; and the wicked ogre of the story, who oddly had the same name as Papa, Prince Christian, though of Augustenburg, had gone to Germany.
Papa was jubilant; he had conducted himself with honour in the war and had worked closely with King Frederick so that they had become good friends.
It was all wonderful.
Louise, however, was not so optimistic; she had qualms about the future and she often discussed these when she was alone with her husband.
‘It’s a temporary peace,’ she said. ‘A truce really.’
‘Why, my dear,’ remonstrated Christian, ‘we well and truly trounced them.’
‘What about Prussia? There are plots brewing there, I’m sure.’
‘You worry too much.’
But dear Christian was a little naive and none knew it better than his wife. The European powers shared Louise’s fears of the growing ambitions of Prussia and realised that a strong Denmark was essential to curb those ambitions. And as Frederick was without a son to follow him, the succession was still unsettled. A conference of the powers took place in London and one of the items discussed was a possible heir to the throne of Denmark, and now that Prince Christian of Augustenburg was in disgrace, it was decided that, in accordance with an earlier suggestion of the late King, it should be settled on Prince Christian through his wife Louise.
There was an immediate agreement to this.
Prince Christian heard the news with some misgivings, Louise with secret elation.
All would be well. When the time came she would be beside her husband to guide him.
She had made an important discovery. She was to have another child.
* * *
Uncle Frederick called at the Yellow Palace with his morganatic wife, Countess Danner. Frederick was bluff and hearty and very friendly; Countess Danner was less so. She could scarcely feel pleased that Christian and Louise should be the heirs to the throne when it was not impossible that she might have a child. Large – she and Frederick were both very fat – she sprawled on a sofa and assessed the contents of the room; very clean but also shabby. She looked at the glittering rings on her fingers and then gazed somewhat contemptuously at the bare hands of Louise crossed in her lap. It was clear that she would have liked to snub the whole family but that was more than even she dared to do. Frederick was easy-going but after all these people had become important. This was the future King and Queen while she must remain the morganatic wife to whom many people referred as the mistress.
All the children were brought in to pay their respects to the King. Dagmar stared round-eyed at the enormously fat, rather short man with the hooked nose and beaming smile.
‘What a pleasant family, eh?’ he cried. ‘You’re a lucky man, Christian.’
‘Yes, sir,’ agreed Christian. ‘I know it well.’
‘What I’ve come to say is this. The Yellow Palace should not be your sole residence now you’re heir to the throne. What would you say to Bernstorff Castle as another residence, eh?’
‘Bernstorff!’ cried Christian very loudly so that Louise would know she had not been mistaken. Louise had grown a little deaf in the last years and did not like to admit it. ‘But that would be wonderful.’
‘Why yes,’ agreed Louise. ‘It would be most wonderful to have Bernstorff as an alternative residence.’
‘Well, it’s yours.’
They overwhelmed him with gratitude.
‘Don’t forget,’ he said with a grin. ‘You’re the heir to the throne now.’
* * *
It was not to be thought, Louise explained to the children, that now they had two residences they were rich. Far from it. A palace and a castle needed a big outlay to keep them going, and although Papa would one day be the King of Denmark they were still the poor relations. They must continue to live simply, make their own dresses and not expect luxuries.
It didn’t matter. There was so much to make life exciting. Bernstorff was wonderful and it was always an adventure to be there. It was some ten miles from Copenhagen and set in a beautiful park. Here they could ride every day, and Alix loved being in the saddle; they could play all sorts of games and the entire family were very good at inventing them. There were lessons every day; Papa continued with the physical exercises and it was no unusual sight to see him with the children – including Dagmar – turning somersaults on the lawns of Bernstorff.
A new sister had arrived. She was called Thyra and for a while the whole family could talk of nothing else but this wonderful child; then Thyra ceased to be a baby and in due course she was there in the schoolroom and in the gymnasium. And the happy life continued.
* * *
There were trips to Rumpenheim to be enjoyed each year and best of all was the reunion with aunts and cousins, and relatives of all kinds.
There were picnics and dancing, riding and endless conversation; there were games of all kinds; and there was Cousin Mary of Cambridge. Each year they met and their friendship had grown. It was true that Mary was ten years older than Alix but as the years passed the difference seemed less.
As they walked through the avenues of trees and sometimes planned the next day’s excursion, Mary would talk about her home in England. She lived in Cambridge Lodge on Kew Green, that part of the world which was made famous by King George III, the mad King of England, and his severe wife Queen Charlotte from whom Mary was directly descended. Mary occasionally saw Queen Victoria, who was really very kind but could be a little forbidding; she sometimes met the Queen’s children. The eldest, Vicky, was much younger than Mary, being only four years older than Alix, and a year younger was Bertie who was reputed to be rather naughty and was the Prince of Wales. They weren’t allowed to mix with other children very much and, it was said, in the family Prince Albert was very severe. The family did not like Prince Albert very much because he was German, but the Queen thought he was perfect, which was right really since she was his wife.
There was so much to talk about. For one thing how the Queen had been shot at on Constitution Hill, which was near Buckingham Palace, and the Great Exhibition which had been set up in Hyde Park. A great Crystal Palace, said Mary. It had to be seen to be believed. And they had removed it all and set it up in a place called Sydenham.
Alix could not hear enough about England.
Then one day Mary said: ‘I don’t see why you shouldn’t pay us a visit. I’ll ask
Mama to invite you.’
Alix was very excited and Mary was true to her word. There came an invitation for Alix to visit the Duchess of Cambridge at Kew.
* * *
Alix had become a very important person. Her brothers and sisters were envious of her since she had been selected for a great adventure; and it was all due to the interest Cousin Mary had shown in her. She was to go and stay with them at Cambridge Lodge.
Louise said that she must have some new clothes; they would not be elaborate and she would probably meet people who were very splendidly dressed, but if she carried herself well and continued with the exercises Papa had taught her, she could make the plainest of dresses seem elegant. Alix was well aware of this. She delighted in clothes and this was obvious as soon as she put on any garment. So it was a challenge that she should have so few clothes and that none was elaborate.
The great day came when she left Denmark in the company of the Cambridges and how exciting it was to travel! The Channel was far from smooth but what seemed to cause discomfort to some people delighted Alix; and it was wonderful to stand beside Mary while she pointed out the land which was the coastline of England.
Cambridge Lodge was grand by Danish standards, but there was more splendour to come.
She and Mary rode out together in the Cambridge carriage through the village of Kew – ‘Dear little Kew’ as the family often referred to it, quoting George III and Queen Charlotte who had talked of it thus long ago. They went to London and it was all so much bigger than Copenhagen, everything seemed so grand and on a larger scale; but there was another side to it. There were more beggars than in Copenhagen; there were more street vendors, more poor people, more everything.
One day Mary was very excited because she had arranged a party and the Queen had given her permission for the Princess Royal and the Prince of Wales, Prince Alfred and Princess Alice to visit Cambridge Lodge.
Mary told her they were about her age … at least Alfred was exactly the same, Alice a year older, the Prince of Wales a little more than a year older than Alice, and Vicky, the Princess Royal, a year older than he was.
Alix felt a little nervous.
‘Oh, you needn’t be,’ said Mary. ‘They are only children, and they haven’t played half the games that you have!’ Alix wore a white muslin dress which her mother had said would be the right thing for a special party. She supposed it was special since she was to meet these important people even if they were only children.
She reminded herself that she herself was a princess and her father was heir to the throne; so her rank was as high as these children’s.
Mary introduced them.
The Princess Royal was the important one. She came first and said in German with a very assured manner: ‘Hello, Alix. How do you like England?’
Vicky was a little terrifying; she seemed to know everything, and what was worse was fully aware that she did.
‘This is Bertie, Alice and Alfred,’ said Vicky.
Alix bowed her head; she couldn’t very well curtsey to children of her own age, although she fancied Vicky expected it.
Bertie eyed her with slight interest and Alice smiled in a friendly way. She warmed to Alice immediately. Alfred was friendly too.
‘We could play some games,’ said Mary in her role of elder cousin eager to have the children amuse themselves.
‘What games do you play in Denmark?’ asked Vicky.
‘We play hoops and with tops and letting rooms.’
‘What’s letting rooms?’ asked Vicky.
‘Well, some people have a house and the others come and look for rooms.’
‘How odd!’ said Vicky. ‘Why should they come to look for rooms?’
‘People do,’ put in Mary helpfully, ‘when they haven’t a house and want somewhere to live.’
‘Oh, the poor,’ said Vicky.
‘Sometimes we play guessing games. We are rivers going through the country and we say all the towns through which we pass. If you miss one there’s a forfeit.’
Vicky felt that she might score at that and was interested.
‘We do music too,’ said Alix; ‘and we do gymnastics. We turn somersaults.’
‘You mean over and over?’
Alix nodded.
All the children were interested now, and Alix was about to show them when Mary said: ‘Not in the drawing-room, Alix.’
Vicky said, very well, they would play the river game and she would choose the river which was the Thames and she was very soon reeling off the list of towns and winning the game.
Bertie was not interested and strolled off with Alfred who seemed like his shadow. Alice remained and said very quietly that perhaps they should have a Danish river because that would be more fair for Alix.
But by that time Vicky was tired of the river game and it was tea-time.
So those were the royal children.
Mary told her about them afterwards.
‘Vicky is the favourite,’ she said. ‘Poor Bertie is always in trouble. Of course Prince Albert is very strict and the Queen agrees with him about everything, so I’m afraid poor Bertie doesn’t have a very good time. And, Alix dear, don’t turn somersaults here because if the Prince Consort heard of it he would be very shocked and that would mean that the Queen was too, and you would never be invited to Buckingham Palace.’
‘Why?’ asked Alix. ‘My father says it is good for people. You should see him go over and over. I can do three turnovers without stopping.’
‘Yes, I expect it is good for you, but the Prince wouldn’t think it right. The Prince is just a little prim.’
‘Oh,’ said Alix solemnly; and forgot all about the royal family until Mary told her that the Queen had sent her an invitation to go to Buckingham Palace.
She was a little alarmed, partly because everyone was telling her that she must do this and not do that and she felt quite bewildered.
The Queen turned out to be small and plump and had kind blue eyes. At the same time there was something rather terrifying about her; Alix feared all the time that she would do something which was wrong. But perhaps that was because she had been warned so frequently.
The Queen asked questions about her mother and father; and whether she was enjoying England. And then she was tapped on the shoulder and understood that she was to stand aside while someone else spoke to Her Majesty.
Afterwards the children went into the gardens and she met Lenchen, who was really Helena and was two years younger than herself which was a comfort, and Louise who was two years younger than that.
They were sweet and as Vicky wasn’t there and Bertie and Alfred didn’t want to play with girls she had a very pleasant time with Alice, Lenchen and Louise. She told them about the Yellow Palace and Rumpenheim and Bernstorff; their eyes glowed with excitement and they kept asking questions.
‘Of course,’ she said, ‘there is nothing so grand as this.’
Lenchen grimaced and said: ‘But your palaces sound so much more fun.’ Then she added: ‘And you should see Windsor. It’s worse than this.’
‘Osborne and Balmoral are lovely,’ said Alice.
‘Oh, what a pity Alix can’t go to Osborne and Balmoral,’ cried Louise.
Then they told her about Osborne in the Isle of Wight and how they could see the sea from the windows; and how they played on the sands and went sea bathing. And Balmoral … Balmoral was the best of the lot although there was no sea. They rode out on their ponies and Papa would take them for long walks and they collected stones and grasses and flowers and Papa knew all about flowers.
Alix questioned this as she would have done at home. Her father said that only God knew all about everything.
‘Only God and our papa,’ said Lenchen.
‘Who said your papa did?’ Alix wanted to know.
‘Our mama,’ replied Lenchen. ‘And she must be right because she is the Queen.’
That settled it.
So it was a very happy afternoon at Buckingham Palace in
spite of the grandeur and the terrifying aspect of the Queen.
Riding back to Cambridge Lodge in the carriage Mary asked Alix how she had enjoyed visiting the Queen.
‘Very much,’ replied Alix. ‘Well, not exactly the Queen but the Princesses.’
‘You will be able to tell them at home that the Queen of England spoke to you.’
Alix agreed though she doubted that Fredy, Willy and Dagmar would be impressed. Uncle Frederick was a king and nobody was very excited when he spoke to them.
At last it was time to go home and there was the excitement of reunion with the family. They all wanted to hear what had happened and see what presents she had brought for them.
But after a while the excitement was forgotten and the visit seemed to have happened long, long ago.
But the Cambridges did not forget.
‘What a charming child Alix is!’ said the Duchess to Mary. ‘I’m not surprised you’re taken with her. One day the Prince of Wales will need a wife.’
‘That’s years away.’
‘You’d be surprised how time flies. And when he does I don’t see why your Alix shouldn’t be in the running.’
Mary was very pleased with the idea. She would bear it in mind.
* * *
One of the loveliest days of the year at the Yellow Palace was Christmas Eve, when the old traditional feast of Jul took place. For weeks before they had all been unbearably excited, making their presents for each other which must be kept a secret, and how difficult that was with children running in and out of the schoolroom at any time of the day. Alix was good with her needle – far better than she was at mathematics, geography or history; although she was moderately good at languages and better still at music; she excelled most at sport and riding which pleased her father; her mother was gratified by her aptitude with the needle, particularly her flair for clothes as, she confided to Christian, if she made a brilliant marriage and was able to employ the best dressmakers in the world, she would be outstanding by her individual way of wearing her clothes. This was a feminine angle which Christian shrugged aside; all he knew was that Alix, secretly his favourite daughter, was a delight to look at, and to see her turning somersaults on the lawns of Bernstorff or in the gardens of the Yellow Palace filled him with admiration and pride.
The Widow of Windsor Page 5
