Christopher Hibbert - Edward VII - The Last Victorian King

The Prince and Princess went to Germany as instructed, first visiting the King of Hanover, then going on to Darmstadt to see the Prince’s sister Alice, now married to Prince Louis of Hesse, and afterwards staying at Cologne with the Crown Prince and Princess of Prussia. But it was not an agreeable time. ‘I can assure you,’ the Prince told Lord Spencer, ‘it was not pleasant to see [the Crown Prince] and his A.D.C. always in Prussian uniform flaunting before our eyes a most objectionable ribbon which he received for his deeds of valour??? against the unhappy Danes.’

For once he was not at ease with his sister either; and she, in turn, wrote home to their mother making unaccustomed complaints about him, particularly about his new and irritating habit of never answering letters. The trouble was, the Queen replied, that Bertie was becoming ‘quite unmanageable’. He was entirely in the hands ‘of that most mischievous Queen of Denmark’. As for Alix, kind as she was, she had not proved ‘worth the price we have had to pay for her in having such a family connection’.

When the unruly children arrived home and went to stay at Osborne, however, all was for the moment forgiven. While they were away the Queen had spoken to her Household about the trouble she was having with her son; and Sir Charles Phipps, Keeper of the Privy Purse, had advised that it was ‘of the highest importance that her Majesty’s authority should be distinctly defined and constantly supported and maintained by the Government … but the Government should lay it down, so that control should not constantly be associated in the Prince of Wales’s mind with [the Queen’s] authority for which he should feel nothing but confiding affection.’

Affection certainly warmed the atmosphere at Osborne that November. The visit was ‘most satisfactory’, the Queen thought; and Alix was, after all, ‘a dear, excellent right-minded soul’ whom one could not help but ‘dearly love and respect’. Her lot was ‘not an easy one’; she was ‘very fond of Bertie, though not blind’.

Indeed, the Queen usually did feel that she loved and respected her daughter-in-law when they were together, for she readily succumbed to her charm; yet no sooner had they parted than reservations once again overcast her regard for her. Fond of her as she was, she could never ‘get more intimate’ with her; ‘she comes completely from the enemy’s camp in every way — Stockmar was right’. The Queen could not depend on her to take the place of her own daughters when they got married: Alix never stayed with her for long enough; besides, she knew ‘none of [the Queen’s] intimate affairs’.

The Queen’s reservations about the Princess of Wales grew appreciably more pronounced when the time came for her third daughter, the nineteen-year-old Princess Helena, to get married. The Queen had hoped to be able to keep Princess Helena at home, and had looked for a husband prepared to settle in England. But it was proving difficult to find a suitable prince willing to do so. Eventually the Queen had agreed to Helena’s becoming engaged to Prince Christian of Schleswig-Holstein-Sonderburg-Augustenburg, the Duke of Augustenburg’s younger brother, though it was not considered a very good match for her, the intended bridegroom being fifteen years older than she was and neither rich nor clever. He was also extremely boring and very plain, his features being further marred in later years by a shooting accident which deprived him of an eye. This loss he remedied by assembling a collection of glass replacements which were occasionally shown to his dinner-table guests, whose attention was particularly drawn to one of them — a realistically blood-shot specimen — for wearing when he had a cold.

The Queen was aware of Prince Christian’s failings; but she also recognized that, while Helena was certainly much more alert and intelligent than he was, she was not at all charming herself and might well find it difficult to make a better marriage. The Prince and Princess of Wales, on the other hand, were uncompromisingly opposed to Helena’s marriage with a man whose family had sided with Denmark’s enemies in the recent war. ‘What do you say to this charming marriage of Helena?’ Princess Alexandra asked Lady Macclesfield. ‘I cannot say how painful and dreadful it will be to me.’ But the Queen was determined to stand firm. ‘I will not allow [any argument],’ she told King Leopold. ‘I had much to go through with his marriage which was disliked by all our family.’

Although he behaved tactfully at Balmoral where he first saw the Queen after the engagement had been announced, the Prince of Wales subsequently made it clear that he was not prepared to withdraw his objections to the marriage: if it took place he would not attend the ceremony. On their mother’s behalf, Princess Alice pleaded with him to be more reasonable. So did the Crown Princess. So, too, did Prince Alfred. ‘The engagement has taken place and we must put a good face on it,’ Prince Alfred advised his brother. ‘Of course, the relationship is painful to you but you must try to accept him for what he is worth personally, and don’t look at him with a prejudiced eye for he is really a very good fellow though not handsome.’

Eventually the Prince of Wales gave way; but his wife stubbornly declined to accept a marriage which she held to be a betrayal of her family, as well as an indication of the Queen’s changed attitude to herself. ‘Bertie is most affectionate and kind,’ the Queen told the Crown Princess in December, ‘but Alix is by no means what she ought to be … I cannot tell you what I have suffered … It will be long, if ever, before she regains my confidence.’ And while still complaining about her daughter-in-law’s misconduct over this matter, she was given further offence by her thoughtlessness in other ways.

The Princess’s second child, Prince George, had been born six months before, a month earlier than the Queen had been led to expect, an accident which the Queen believed to have been deliberate, supposing that she had been misinformed so that she could not fulfil her intention to be present — as she always deemed it her duty to be present — at the birth of a new grandchild. Then to exacerbate the Queen’s displeasure, as soon as the Princess had recovered from her confinement, she resumed her constant ‘going out in society’. Within a few weeks she was down at Cowes racing in the Prince’s new cutter, Dagmar ; then she went off with him to that dreadful castle at Rumpenheim; and on her way home she insulted the Queen of Prussia, who had gone to Coblenz to see her, by refusing to get out of the train and leaving her husband to make some sort of apology. As well as being indiscreet and obstinate, she was becoming ‘haughty and frivolous’, lacking in ‘softness and warmth’. ‘Alix and I never will or can be intimate,’ the Queen complained; ‘she shows me no confidence whatsoever especially about the children.’

The Crown Princess responded by assuring her mother that ‘Alix [had] the greatest wish to be now and then alone with you. She says she is not amusing, she knows, and she fears she bores you, but she loves you so much, and it seems to be a little ambition of hers to be allowed to be close with you sometimes. It was Bertie who told me this and it quite touched me.’

A few days after this letter was written Princess Alexandra and the two ‘tiny little boys’ arrived at Windsor; and, as always once the women were alone together, past differences were forgotten and the relationship between them was perfectly relaxed. ‘Nothing could be nicer or dearer than she is,’ the Queen reported. ‘It is quite charming to see her and hear her … I do love her dearly … She is dear and good and gentle, but looking very thin and pale.’