‘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.
All the same it was a relief to settle into the train. Christian and Louise smiled approvingly at their daughter.
‘The first stage is over,’ said Christian, ‘and may I say you did very well, my dear.’
‘Oh, that part was easy,’ said Alix with a smile.
‘They are such loyal good people,’ added Louise.
‘Well, they’ve known me all my life,’ Alix reminded her. ‘They will have seen me perhaps walking along the Lange Linie and gazing into the shops and wondering whether I could copy the dresses there.’
‘It will be different now,’ said Louise. ‘Dagmar and Thyra will have to carry on, though, for a while.’
‘It won’t be the same without Alix,’ said Dagmar quietly. ‘She always knows how a dress is going to look before it’s made.’
‘We’re going to miss our Alix,’ said Christian sadly.
‘Now, Papa,’ reproved Louise, ‘don’t let us be morbid.’
She called attention to Valdemar who was talking to his new toy donkey and showing him the countryside they were passing through.
‘Isn’t this a great adventure, Valdy darling?’ said Alix.
Valdemar nodded. ‘Donkey likes trains,’ he said.
‘And you, Valdy dear, what do you like?’
He thought for a while and then he said, ‘I like Donkey.’
And the happy domestic atmosphere seemed to have come back to them.
* * *
There were receptions everywhere they stopped, even in Germany which was strange because the Germans were somewhat put out by the match. English royalty usually married Germans; English royalty was half German. The Germans felt this departure from an old custom and taking in Denmark was to some extent a slight on their princesses. But Alexandra was young and charming and whatever the statesmen thought the people could not resist a beautiful bride.
At the Laeken Palace Uncle Leopold was waiting to welcome them.
He embraced Alix warmly, and called her his dear child. He was so happy about this match. It was the best thing possible for Bertie and for Alix – his dear, dear children. ‘I’m as happy now as when Victoria married Albert,’ he told Alix, ‘my niece and my nephew but to me they were like daughter and son, as you two young people are. I have suffered such pain these last weeks. My doctors told me I should have stayed in bed. “In bed,” I said, “when my dearest Alexandra is coming to visit me en route for England for her marriage with that other dear child of mine!” Whatever pain I had to suffer I was not going to stay in bed.’
He hobbled round effectively now and then giving a little grimace to indicate how bad the pain was but Uncle Leopold so obviously enjoyed his ailments that his calling attention to them added nothing sombre to the occasion, for with his painted cheeks, his built-up shoes to make him look taller, and his pleasant wig, he still retained signs of the singularly handsome man he had been in his youth.
He had promised himself many little chats with Alexandra. He knew so much about the English Court and way of life that he wanted to give her the benefit of his knowledge. If she were in any difficulty at any time she would know that all she had to do was to write to him.
Alix listened charmingly. She was sure, she said, that she would never learn anything about politics. They were so complicated.
‘You must remember that you will have a certain influence with your husband, my dear child. And he will become more and more important, particularly if the Queen remains in seclusion as she has since the Consort’s death. You could have a part to play. Always remember your own country and your own good friends. The stability of Denmark … and Belgium … is very necessary to European peace. I should not like to see that threatened or it could mean great trouble. Always remember that if you are bewildered about anything, you can always write to me for advice. I will be to you what I was to the Queen in the days when she needed me.’
Alix thanked him, but she was determined not to meddle in politics. She was sure Bertie would not like it.
Leopold said that he had a surprise for her. Would she care to see?
She was eager to but when she saw the dress of Brussels lace and realised that it was to be her wedding gown she was dismayed.
The Queen had told her that she was presenting her with a wedding dress of Honiton lace – and how could she have two wedding dresses?
Alix said the dress was beautiful; then she hurried to her parents to explain her dilemma to them.
‘The Queen would be furious if you did not wear the wedding dress she is giving you,’ said Christian.
‘Leopold will be if she doesn’t wear his,’ was Louise’s answer.
‘What can we do?’ Christian wondered.
‘I must consult the ambassador,’ said Louise. ‘This is too important a matter for us to settle.’
So the battle of Honiton and Brussels lace began. The Queen was indignant. It was impossible for dear sweet Alix to be married in foreign lace. Everybody knew, commented Leopold, that Brussels lace was the best in the world. But the Queen did not think it was to be compared with Honiton lace. Her own wedding dress had been trimmed with Honiton lace. She could not – and what was more would not – give her consent to dear sweet Alix’s being married in anything but the wedding dress which she had provided.
Leopold realised that he must back out graciously.
So Honiton won.
* * *
The Queen’s own yacht, Victoria and Albert, was waiting for the party at Antwerp. They sailed to Flushing and prepared to cross the Channel.
The crossing was smooth and when the Vict
oria and Albert came into the Margate Roads the guns roared forth. Boats came out to the yacht carrying loyal messages of greeting; and the welcome was as great at Southend and Sheerness.
As they approached Gravesend, Louise whispered to her daughter that it was time she went to her cabin to change the simple dress she was wearing. Bertie would doubtless come out to meet her and this was one of the occasions when it was imperative that she must be ready on time.
Alexandra put on a mauve Irish poplin dress which had been specially made for this occasion and over it she wore a long cloak of the same colour as her dress but of velvet trimmed with sable; on her head was a poke bonnet in white, decorated with tiny roses.
The effect was charming and when her parents saw her even they were startled by her beauty, which the exhausting journey had done nothing to impair.
Bertie had come out on his private yacht and on the deck of the Victoria and Albert they greeted each other. When Bertie kissed her warmly a cheer went up from the spectators and together they prepared to go ashore.
On the pier, some sixty girls dressed in red and white – Danish colours – were waiting to throw down flowers for her to walk on; the pier itself was decorated with orange blossom; what was so charming were the heads of deputations who came to present her with flowers for they had learned Danish phrases to say to her and their quaint pronunciation amused her.
Then began the drive to London where they would take the train for Windsor.
The entry into London was so enthusiastic as to be alarming. Alix had never seen so many people. They had heard accounts of the beauty of the Princess and were determined to see for themselves; and when they discovered that reports had not been exaggerated, they were delighted. The March wind was biting but that deterred no one. There they were in their tens of thousands all come to welcome the new Princess of Wales. Bertie was already very popular. Royal scandals always managed to seep out and it had long been known that Bertie was at variance with his parents. The Prince Consort had tried to cram learning into his son. Bertie had resisted. The Prince had tried to make another such as himself of the Prince of Wales. But the people did not want another. One German saint was enough. In fact they did not accept Albert as a saint. To many of the public people he was an ambitious man who had tried to rule England and had suppressed all the natural gaiety of the Queen. But Bertie had stood out against that. Bertie was gay; there were rumours of a little affair at the Curragh Camp of which a great deal had been made, and who could blame Bertie, kept down as he was? Bertie was human, something his father was not. ‘Good old Teddy,’ said the people. So they wanted to see what sort of bride he was getting. And when they saw her, very pretty, charmingly dressed, elegant and smiling, they were delighted with her.
‘Long live the Danish Princess,’ they cried. ‘And long live the Prince of Wales.’
Moreover there would be a royal wedding and that always meant a good time. The Queen had been in mourning too long. The people were tired of it. They would now have some gaiety.
The journey through London was a nightmare. The people’s enthusiasm had got out of control and the farther the procession penetrated into the capital, the more terrifying an ordeal it became. The people were exuberant. They wanted to show their enthusiasm. They crowded round the carriages and brought them to a halt. At the Mansion House Alix’s carriage was almost overturned and she clung to the upholstery in dismay. The people, some well dressed, some ragged, pressed about her. There were shrieks in the crowd as some feared they would be trampled to death. When the carriage was brought to a standstill several men pushed forward and tried to unharness the horses shouting their intention to drag the bride’s carriage to Paddington.
It was frightening. Alix had never seen so many people, and tempers in the crowd ran high when there were disputes among the spectators. It seemed at one time that the police would be unable to keep order and that there would be a riot.
The Prince’s equerry, however, came to the rescue. He appealed to the crowd to let them pass. Alix smiled at those who pressed round and in her quaint English begged them to let her get through. They fell back. She was so gentle and she perhaps made them realise how they were adding to her ordeal. In any case the crowd fell back and the carriages were able to make their slow progress to Paddington.
They were very late arriving at Windsor and then it was raining. Alix was rather pleased about this. The ride through London had been tiring as well as often terrifying and it was a blessing to be able to ride in a closed carriage.
At last they reached Windsor where the Queen and her daughters were waiting to receive them.
The Queen, in her black mourning dress and widow’s cap, embraced them warmly.
‘Dear sweet Alix is worn out, I am sure,’ she said. ‘She must take half an hour’s rest before dinner.’
This Alix would have been pleased to do, but she was too excited to lie down and since she must wash and change and had only half an hour in which to do it, she must immediately prepare, remembering always of course that she must not be late on this her first evening at the Castle.
Lenchen came to her room when it was time to go to dinner.
‘Mama is taking hers in her room,’ she explained. ‘Your arrival has reminded her of the day Papa came and she feels too sad and unhappy to join us.’
Truly she had come into a house of mourning. But of course dinner was a much more lively meal – and really quite enjoyable – without that sorrowing presence.
* * *
Alix could not stop thinking of the Queen, and how sad it was for her at such a time. When her son was about to marry naturally she would be thinking of her own marriage and her desolation would be great. It seemed wrong to feel gay with the others. She asked Lenchen where the Queen would be and Lenchen replied that she was in the Royal Closet where she spent so much of her time brooding on the past.
Acting on impulse Alix slipped away from the company and went to the Royal Closet. When she knocked on the door, an imperious voice demanded: ‘Who is there?’ Alix opened the door and stood on the threshold of the room for a second; then she went to the humped figure in the flowing black robes and kneeling looked up into that melancholy face.
‘I wanted to tell Your Majesty that I kept thinking of you and your sorrow … at such a time …’
The tears began to fall down the Queen’s cheeks. She bent forward and kissed Alix. ‘Dear sweet child,’ she murmured. ‘So graceful, so beautiful and so feeling.’
It was very soon clear that the Queen had taken Alix to her heart.
* * *
It was Sunday, a day when the dead should be remembered even more frequently than during the week. The Queen decided that Alix and her future bridegroom should pay a visit to the mausoleum that afternoon.
The Queen took Alix’s arm and showed her round, while she extolled the virtues of the Prince Consort. Bertie yawned in the special way he had, keeping his mouth closed. He had explained to Alix that it was a habit necessary for royalty to master. There were so many occasions when it was impossible to suppress yawns completely, and the oft-repeated enumeration of his father’s virtues was high on the list.
Back at the castle the Queen talked of the wedding, which would be a very sad occasion. She recalled Vicky’s wedding. How different! With her father beside her (looking magnificent in uniform) loth to give her away but at the same time steeling himself to do so. Nothing would ever be the same again.
The wedding was to take place in St George’s Chapel, Windsor. The Queen, in whose company Alix often found herself, admitted that there was a great deal of complaint about the place chosen.
So many people wished it to take place in London because they didn’t want the trouble of coming down to Windsor. ‘But Windsor it is to be,’ said the Queen. ‘How could I bear such a ceremony in the Chapel Royal St James’s where I was united to my angel? And as for all the fuss and bother of St Paul’s, I just could not face that. The people must understand that I must
have seclusion in my grief.’
Alix was afraid that the Queen was going on to the familiar theme of the Consort’s virtues but on this occasion it was avoided by an adroit turn of the conversation which brought it back to the dresses of the bride and the bridesmaids.
* * *
Members of the family were arriving at Windsor. Vicky and her husband had come with their four-year-old son Wilhelm, who was a great favourite with the Queen, though Alix could not understand why for she secretly thought him a rather unpleasant little boy. There was her own brother Valdemar, the same age as Wilhelm, whom the latter regarded with animosity; but both the boys were kept in order by young Beatrice, known as Baby to her mother and brothers and sisters, but who with the advent of these slightly younger children had suddenly found herself almost grown up. Ten-year-old Leopold and thirteen-year-old Arthur were aloof from the nursery but they now and then delivered lordly reprimands when the conduct of Wilhelm became violent.
Valdemar declared that he didn’t want to go to the wedding unless he could bring his donkey, while Wilhelm cast acquisitive eyes on the animal and decided that since it was such a favourite with Valdemar it ought to be his.
The presents were arriving. The Queen gave the bride an opal and diamond bracelet, and the City Corporation presented her with a diamond necklace worth £10,000; the Royal Nurseries who provided the bouquet, which was made up of orange blossom, orchids, lilies of the valley, rosebuds and myrtle, presented it in a holder of crystal set with diamonds, emeralds and coral. This holder was a gift from the Maharajah Dhuleep Sing. Bertie came to her sitting-room, one hand behind him, and turning her round so that she had her back to him swiftly placed something on her head. She caught a glimpse in the mirror of a tiara of diamonds. She gasped with delight.
‘But, Bertie, I am not used to such grandeur.’
Bertie laughed at her and then gave her a necklace, ear-rings and a brooch of pearls and diamonds.
The Widow of Windsor Page 11
