In England, Princess Maud and her siblings thrived. Their parents sparkled as the leaders of society, while the children settled into a routine, receiving an adequate but unspectacular education at home. Thanks to Princess Alexandra’s influence, paramount in the Wales household was a strong sense of merriment, which suited the boisterous Maud. Her fearlessness earned the tomboyish Maud the nickname “Harry,” after her father’s friend, Admiral Sir Henry Keppel.
Visitors to Sandringham were startled to find the Wales brood on the warpath, sliding on tea trays downstairs and ringing bells to call the servants needlessly. Invited to a formal dinner at their Norfolk home, Benjamin Disraeli was surprised to feel one of the princesses pinching his legs under the table. These shenanigans were sedate when compared to the time when astonished visitors were greeted by ponies inside Sandringham. It was a prank very much to Princess Alexandra’s liking. After all, “I was just as bad myself,” exclaimed their amused and indulgent mother.10
To the queen, Maud and her siblings seemed too unruly. A much more disciplined atmosphere reigned for the Wales children when it came time to visit their grandmother; in fact, Maud once refused to visit Queen Victoria. Princess Alexandra related how just before her daughters were due to set off for Balmoral, “they all cried floods.” “Little Harry,” noted Alexandra, “declared at the last minute ‘I won’t go,’ with a stamp of her foot.”11
Maud’s fearlessness among her young relations and her tomboyish ways did not abate as she grew older. Though sickly, the sports-mad princess delighted in riding horses every day, and cycling became another favorite sport. When she insisted on riding out in public—the first British princess to be seen doing so— Queen Victoria was unamused. The queen reprimanded her granddaughter for such a daring move. Maud replied simply, “But grandmother, everyone knows that I have legs!”12
Maud’s intransigence was never allowed to get the better of her. For despite their unruliness, Princess Alexandra had also instilled good qualities into her children, as Queen Victoria acknowledged and praised, saying there is “one thing, however she [Alexandra] does insist on, and that is great simplicity and an absence of all pride, and in that respect she has my fullest support.”13
As a child and young woman, Maud regularly visited her mother’s native Denmark and so became close friends with her first cousins, the Tsarevitch Nicholas and his younger brother, Grand Duke George, sons of Alexandra’s sister, Empress Marie of Russia. As teenagers, Nicholas and George corresponded with Maud. She addressed Nicholas as “Mr. Toad” or “Darling little Nicky” (often underlining the “little”).14 George took on the more lyrical nickname of “Musie,” while Maud often signed off as “Stumpy.”
During her teenage years, Princess Maud did not hold her Danish relations in high esteem, fun-loving though they were. She especially thought her first cousin, Prince Charles of Denmark, immature. When he went off to sea in 1886, seventeen-year-old Maud was convinced this would do the fourteen-year-old prince much good. Writing to “my little darling Musie,” Maud did not mince words about Charles: “I am sure it will be good for him since he used to be so daft.”15
It was much to the Crown Prince and Princess of Prussia’s credit that their daughter, Sophie, had a contented childhood. Her paternal grandparents, Emperor Wilhelm I and Empress Augusta, who were always at loggerheads with each other, largely ignored Sophie and her sisters, Viktoria (“Moretta,” b. 1866) and Margrete (“Mossy,” b. 1872). The emperor and empress were interested only in Sophie’s older siblings—Wilhelm (“Willy,” b. 1859), Charlotte (“Charly,” b. 1860), and Henry (b. 1862).
Almost from the moment she set foot in Germany as a teenage bride, Vicky saw how gossip, intrigue, and perpetual family rows were the norm at the Berlin court. Sophie’s paternal grandparents were particularly notorious for their bitter and loud rows. These unremitting squabbles and intrigues only served to reinforce in the Princess Royal her undying belief in the superiority of nearly all things English. As soon as Vicky and Fritz were blessed with the arrival of children, the new mother saw to it that their nurseries were modeled on those in which Vicky grew up in England. In no time, the Prussian princes and princess were being raised by their mother with a great love for her native country and things associated with it. Vicky accomplished this most successfully with the youngest in her brood—Sophie, Moretta, and Mossy.
Trips to England reinforced this bond. During these visits, the Prussian royal family stayed in many of the homes that had been dear to Vicky, a special favorite being Osborne House. Here, her children immersed themselves in the island’s charms, often collecting shells from the nearby beaches. Years later, Kaiser Wil-helm II, Queen Victoria’s eldest grandchild, recalled how when he and his siblings visited their grandmother, “we were treated as children of the house.” As for Queen Victoria, Willy noted that “we looked up to our grandmother…with affectionate awe,”16 a compliment seconded by Moretta, who fondly remembered their English grandmama as being “always so gracious and kind, and so full of understanding of us children.”17
Vicky was grateful to see the bond that developed between her children and her mother. During one of the family’s frequent visits, Vicky told Queen Victoria that “the children are so full of dear Grandmama and all her kindness that it does my heart good.” Young Sophie was particularly taken with the old queen. “She is so nice to kiss you cannot think,” exclaimed the eleven-year-old happily18 So comfortable was Princess Sophie in her grandmother’s presence that Vicky was pleased to leave her in England for long stays. Since she was bereft of much contact with her paternal grandparents, Sophie’s formative years were therefore largely shaped by her parents and Queen Victoria.
Sophie’s childhood was divided chiefly between her parents’ two homes: the Kronprinzenpalais on the Unter den Linden, in Berlin, and the Neues Palais in Potsdam. The Neues Palais, built by Frederick the Great in the eighteenth century, was a magnificent three-story edifice, redolent of rococo splendor, rising amidst verdant parkland. Visitors to the palace were instantly attracted by the large central cupola. Topping it were three classical female figures holding aloft an intricate crown. Inside, it was an enchanting place, where Sophie could wander and let her imagination transport her to another world. Among the two hundred rooms was the Marmorsaal—a huge ballroom, dotted with inlaid marble, with a gilded ceiling and crystal chandeliers. Just as richly ornate was the Silver Salon, with its sumptuous and intricate rococo decor on walls and ceiling. Most spectacular of all was the Muschelsaal or Shell Hall, decorated with nearly twenty thousand semiprecious stones, shells, and corals.
Like her sister, Alice, at Darmstadt, Vicky insisted that touches of Britain be introduced into her home. Vicky’s attempts to inculcate an enduring love for England in her children worked. Not everybody, however, was pleased with the way the Prussian princes and princesses were being so heavily exposed to British influences. The German royal family and the chancellor, Otto von Bismarck, were among the crown princess’s harshest critics. To them, Vicky soon became “Die Engländerin [the Englishwoman],” a term of abuse that would come to haunt Queen Victoria’s eldest child.19
In 1879, when Sophie was nine, her brother, Waldemar (“Waldie”), died unexpectedly at the age of eleven from diphtheria. With her two favorite sons, Sigi and Waldie, gone, Vicky grew closer to her youngest daughters—Moretta, Sophie, and Mossy. The crown princess proudly boasted of “my three sweet girls” as “my trio” and “my Kleeblatt.”20
Like Maud of Wales, Missy of Edinburgh’s early years were largely spent in England. The family divided their time between their London home, Clarence House; Osborne Cottage on the Isle of Wight; and a rambling gray Jacobean manor house, Eastwell Manor, near Ashford, in Kent. It was during summers spent at Osborne and the occasional visit to Windsor that Missy recalled seeing her grandmother, Queen Victoria. To Missy, Victoria was always “Grandmamma Queen” in order to differentiate her from Missy’s namesake and maternal grandmother, the Empress of
Russia, who was “Grandmamma Empress.”21
Missy’s impressions of “Grandmamma Queen” were those of a cherished grandmother who nevertheless inspired “reverential fear” in many. The grande dame held interviews with her grandchildren, and high on the agenda were inquiries about behavior and morals. To Missy, these audiences at Windsor were intimidating. Trudging gingerly down the corridors of the ancient castle, a well-groomed Missy would be led silently until she arrived at the hallowed Queen’s Apartments. The hushed tone and reverential atmosphere surrounding the lady herself was so “awe-inspiring,” recalled Missy, that “it was like approaching the mystery of some sanctuary.” But when Missy did come face to face with her grandmother—“the final mystery to which only the initiated had access”—she was confronted not by some fearful ogre but by her “wonderful little old Grandmamma,” who was swathed in black silk but had a “shy little laugh.”22
These interviews at Windsor were not the only memories Missy had of her early youth in England. She remembered summers at Osborne, with Queen Victoria sitting placidly under a large green tent in the gardens, breakfasting or working diligently on government business. Inevitably, she was surrounded by innumerable dogs, not to mention exotic Indian attendants, and her Highlanders.
With a father whose duties at sea often took him away from home, it was the Duchess of Edinburgh who grew closer to the children and became the central figure in their lives. Though demanding and oftentimes a hard taskmaster, Marie was also a caring mother, who loved her children. The duchess was pleased with her brood, singing their praises, as when she said of seven-year-old Missy: “son caractère est toujours délicieux.”23
In 1886, a new life began for Missy. Prince Alfred took up his command of the Royal Navy’s Mediterranean Squadron and settled his family in Malta, where Missy lived for several years. Lessons and picnics to places of interest throughout the island filled her days. It was during these picnics that Missy and Ducky indulged in what became a great passion for them: horse riding. Missy’s riding skills may have been acquired in London but they were honed during her teenage years in Malta. Missy and Ducky earned the disapproval of English matrons who found the Edinburgh princesses wild creatures, allowed too much free rein.
With her Hessian grandchildren bereft of their mother, the redoubtable Queen Victoria took charge, renewing Victoria’s zest for life, which had been seriously sapped when she suddenly found herself a widow at forty-two. A grateful Grand Duke of Hesse acquiesced to Victoria’s dominant role in the rearing of his children. Who better to supervise their education than a loving grandmother who also happened to be the Queen of England? Indeed, Victoria virtually usurped the Grand Duke of Hesse in matters pertaining to his children, so that she “never for a minute relaxed her watch” on their education.24 Instructions and memoranda flew from England to Darmstadt charting the children’s upbringing. No detail was too minute for Queen Victoria’s eye. Solicited or not, the queen’s endless advice covered every conceivable topic in the education of Princess Alix. Detailed daily and monthly summaries were sent by Alix’s English governesses in Darmstadt to England for Queen Victoria’s examination. When in England, the introspective princess also absorbed, both consciously and subconsciously, much of her grandmama’s ways, including “the emotional atmosphere”25 that had pervaded Victoria’s life since the death of her husband, the Prince Consort.
The motherless grandchildren from Hesse touched a chord in Queen Victoria. Their visits to England served to bind her and the grandchildren closer. The queen missed them dreadfully when they were not around. She admitted as much, writing, “how I often wish to see you dear children. How long it seems since we parted & till we can meet again.”2 Five years after she wrote those words, Queen Victoria’s love for these grandchildren had not abated. She continued to give unsolicited advice, reiterating her role as their primary counsellor and substitute mother figure. Victoria emphasized this to Alix’s eldest sister, imploring her to look upon her as “a loving Mother (for I feel I am that to you beloved Children far more than a Grandmother).”27
Two
“MAD. NEVER MIND.”
AFTER THREE IDYLLIC YEARS IN MALTA, THE EDINBURGH FAMILY found themselves on the move again, this time to Coburg in Germany, where Alfred and Marie were destined to reign as the Duke and Duchess of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha upon the death of Alfred’s childless uncle. Here, as in Malta, Missy’s mother was in her element. She thoroughly enjoyed being her own mistress in a land where she could indulge in simple, unsophisticated tastes. For all her exposure to the magnificence of the Russian court, Marie was never able to attain an air of elegance and was therefore happiest in her little kingdom, where no one dared express any negative opinions they might have of her. Missy’s years in Coburg would never match the happiness of her time in England or Malta, thanks in large part to two members of the Edinburgh household, an odious German governess, “Fraulein,” and her equally loathsome fiancé, whom Missy referred to in her memoirs as a certain “Dr. X.” Dr. Rolfs, his real name, and the Fraulein took a perverse pleasure in wreaking havoc among the Edinburgh children.
These two characters continually sought to incite jealousies and rivalries among the girls. This battle royal between Missy and members of her mother’s household was an experience she shared with her grandmother. Like Missy, Victoria had had her own version of Dr. X in the form of Sir John Conroy, the comptroller of her mother’s household. To Victoria he was, above all, a “monster and demon incarnate.”1 And just as the Duchess of Edinburgh trusted Rolfs, so too was the Duchess of Kent (Victoria’s mother) under the sway of Conroy. Both Dr. X and Conroy sought to ingratiate themselves with persons of consequence in order to further their own power or agenda. Taking advantage of women whose lives were largely devoid of a close male companion, both men came to be seen by these women as indispensable to their respective households.
Dr. X’s and Conroy’s methods were similar—they were cunningly charming to the women who employed them but ruthless with the women’s children. When the future Queen Victoria was sixteen years old and desperately ill, Con-roy attempted to browbeat the weak patient into agreeing in writing to have him become Victoria’s secretary. She refused. Victoria admitted that “I resisted in spite of my illness.”2 Fortunately for Missy, the same degree of dogged determination did not desert her when her time came to do battle with her nemesis.
Dr. X, in Missy’s opinion, represented “German ‘kultur at its worst, full of tyrannical arrogance and ridicule.” Her brother, Alfred, suffered mercilessly because Dr. X “liked to ridicule him before others, seeming to delight in making him…feel a fool.”3 Not content with trying to destroy Alfred’s soul, Rolfs also targeted the girls, ruthlessly attempting to Germanicize them. The girls, who were thoroughly English, were made of sterner stuff. And it was this, the preservation of their English identity, that spurred them to fight. As Missy recalled: “His object was to uproot in us the love of England and to turn us into Germans. We resisted this with all our might, pitting our wills against his with that magnificent fighting courage of children when their gods are attacked.”4
Queen Victoria possessed the same strong sense of place, and she successfully transmitted it to many of her descendants. When Vicky, her eldest daughter, was betrothed to marry Prince Frederick of Prussia (the future Emperor Frederick III), the queen refused Berlin’s demand that Vicky should marry in Germany. The idea was simply “too absurd.” After all, proclaimed Victoria proudly, “it is not every day that one marries the eldest daughter of the Queen of England.”5
Like Queen Victoria, Missy and her sisters possessed a keen English identity. So strong was this bond, that despite the love the Edinburgh girls had for their mother, they never came to share her own dislike of England. As it turned out, by the time Rolfs unleashed his attack, the girls were so devoted to one another and, just as important, so thoroughly English that they fought off Dr. X’s enormous efforts at getting them to become German. Missy and her sisters
were infuriated by the devious methods employed by this destructive duo. But the two were so adept at their twisted games that the Duchess of Edinburgh was blind to their behavior. This was particularly hurtful to the sisters, who hated to see their mother so taken in.
Fraulein and Dr. X used honeyed words aimed at the duchess, for instance, to wangle their way into her favor while spewing venomous attacks on the children behind her back. Missy remembered how the governess would “lead us on by equivocal conversation to ask questions about the hidden mysteries of life and would then show us up to Mamma as nasty little girls with unhealthy minds, whilst it was she who was trying to stir us up out of the somewhat torpid but paradisiacal innocence in which Mamma desired to keep us. Fortunately, Missy and her sisters saw through this destructive charade and would have none of it. Then the duo married and left for their honeymoon. The new Frau Rolfs had brought in her younger sister, Louiserowitch, as a substitute. With Louiserow-itch’s help and the Duchess of Edinburgh away, the girls seized the chance to be rid of their nemeses, explaining their predicament to their father.
The duke exploded in anger—not at his children but at their intended target, Rolfs and his wife. A bitter fight broke out between Missy’s parents. In the end, Dr. and Mrs. X stayed on but were never able to exercise the same earlier tyrannical behavior. Fortunately, a much more amiable governess joined the household, bringing further harmony into the girls’ lives. Queen Victoria would have been proud of Missy and her sisters’ defense of their English heritage and their commendable struggles to be rid of such a repugnant pair.
Born to Rule: Five Reigning Consorts, Granddaughters of Queen Victoria Page 3