We have passed through a dreadful panic and in a small country where Royalties are so initimitely [sic] mixed up with all that goes on one seems to carry all the burdens on one’s own shoulders.…You see it had all come so unexpectedly and spread with such horrible rapidity taking such proportions that at one moment one was not sure that all the country was not lost. And we lived through it all with them all, sharing all the fears and panic and anxieties. I assure you I felt as if in some way I had suddenly got into a night-mare.10
Crown Princess Marie and the Tsarina Alexandra were not the only ones to experience a close brush with violent revolutionary agitations in the early part of the twentieth century, for similar movements were set to explode in Greece and Spain. Crown Princess Sophie and Queen Ena would soon learn what it must have been like for their cousins to face the winds of revolution.
In Greece, reports of unrest were received in February 1909 by the British Legation at Athens. Increases in taxation helped trigger turmoil amongst all classes. This left the political landscape ripe for all manner of intrigue. By May, signs that the military might be playing a major role in instigating unrest emerged when non-commissioned officers staged a mutiny. “There is a general feeling that something may happen, no one knows exactly what,” wrote one diplomat in Athens, who blamed “bad trade, scarcity of money, unemployment…a deplorable lack of public security” and the ongoing Cretan issue for the troubles.11
The government assembly of Crete had recently proclaimed that its island should be joined in union with Greece. Seeing an opportunity to gain more prominence, a Cretan lawyer named Eleutherios Venizelos quickly switched his long-standing view that Crete should be independent. Instead, he joined in the chorus of voices seeking a Greater Greece through the island’s unification with the mainland. But when the Great Powers failed to favor the move, plans to unite Crete with Greece fizzled, leading to much disaffection. This disaffection played into the hands of a number of embittered military officers, paving the way for a takeover of power by the country’s military.
None of this boded well for Crown Princess Sophie and her husband. At the top of the list demanded by the military was Prince Constantine’s resignation from his army command, along with that of his brothers. The crown prince was commander in chief and responsible for reorganizing this branch of the military, but his efforts met with dissatisfaction. Such an onerous task meant that Con-stantine inevitably made enemies within the army, who saw their opportunities for advancement dashed by the prince’s efforts to shake up the status quo. The crown prince was laid open to charges of favoritism among the disgruntled, which made him vulnerable to attacks.
What amounted to a military dictatorship emerged when the Military League, a group comprised of junior officers, came into being in the summer of 1909. In order to deflect criticism, the Military League tried to cast its calls for military and government reforms in patriotic terms. Those individuals who clamored for changes also voiced grave disappointment in King George and the princes of the royal house.
Things had reached such a low point that King George admitted to the British ambassador in Athens, Sir Francis Elliot, that he was “no longer able to place confidence in any one in Greece, where he could be of no further use; that he absolutely refused to be the puppet of a military junta, and that he would take his departure the next time he came into conflict with them; he had made all his preparations and was ready to leave at a moment’s notice.”12 Elliot’s reports to the Foreign Office were so dismal that at the end of 1909, a London official commented: “the King of Greece is between the devil and the deep sea.”13 London deemed the situation serious enough to order Royal Navy ships that happened to be near the Athenian port of Piraeus on standby in case they were needed to rescue members of the Greek royal family. Rumors were soon rampant that King George was ready to abdicate and abandon Greece, along with his family.
Relations between the royal family and the military did not improve as the months passed. It soon became all too evident that in the battle between the royal family and the Military League, the royal family was losing. In 1909, the crown prince and his brothers were told that they must be relieved of their army commissions. In order to spare their father the indignity of signing a decree stripping them of their military commands, they resigned their positions. Sadly for Constantine, this move did not prevent his popularity from sliding further. Nor did the princes’ resignations ease tensions. By December “the general situation of the country appeared to be rapidly approaching a state of chaos.”14 Crown Princess Sophie was not in Greece to see this chaotic situation firsthand. She and Tino were compelled to flee the country in September that year.
As he made his way out of Greece toward Brindisi, Constantine was greeted by emotional crowds who did not want him to leave. Sophie must have been gratified that her husband met with such demonstrations of loyalty from the Greek people. While she awaited better news in Germany, Sophie received reports from the German minister to Athens, Baron von Wangenheim, which also reinforced the crown princess’s critical view “of her father-in-law’s moderate, compromising tactics” toward the Military League—a view understandably shared by the banished Tino.15
Much as she was disappointed by the king’s compromising stance, Sophie was troubled by French military plans to reorganize the Greek Army. To Sophie and Tino, this creeping French influence in the military posed a real potential threat because “radical, republican influences” would more than likely “spread within the ranks of an army which had already exerted anti-dynastic pressures.” This prompted Sophie to cry out in desperation to her husband while they were in Greece, “There is no longer any place for us in this country. Let us pack our suitcases and depart.”16
By 1910, the leaders of the Military League had not met with the degree of success they had hoped. King George, though he tried to compromise and was willing to enact some of the reforms demanded, was not going to let the rebellious officers run roughshod over him. He was determined to maintain his position as a constitutional monarch and, true to his word, would not countenance being their puppet king. Finally, the Military League and King George saw an opportunity to resolve the political impasse. Eleutherios Venizelos became the prime minister in September 1910 and the Military League dissolved itself. Crown Prince Constantine was then given back his position as commander of the army. The Greek royal family had ridden out the storm.
When the time came for Sophie to part from her sister, Mossy, in Germany, it proved very difficult. “The parting,” noted Mossy, “was harder than I can say. We have been together almost a year and a half, & to what uncertainty & unsettled state of affairs is she returning! It was too sad to see her trying to fight down her feelings.”17 Toward the end of the year, Mossy received word that Sophie was unhappy, her letters not sounding at all cheerful. Mossy identified the main problem: “the political out look [is] anything but bright.”18
Returning to Greece had not changed Sophie’s opinion about the troublesome officers who had sought to foment trouble. In his annual report to the Foreign Office, Sir Francis Elliot surmised that the crown princess possessed an “irreconcilable attitude towards the party of reform, whom she identifies with the leaders of the military movement of 1909, which she cannot forgive.” Then, in a statement which, had it been made public, could have been seized upon and exploited by those unsympathetic to the royal family, Elliot pointed out: “Neither she nor apparently her Imperial Brother [Kaiser Wilhelm] realize the necessity for the reigning dynasty here of passing the sponge over the distasteful events of that year.”19 It was an easy statement for an observer to make, as Elliot obviously was not a member of the royal family, nor did he personally experience all that Sophie went through. Nevertheless, it is an interesting one since it foreshadowed the future to some degree by making Sophie appear to be an un-malleable character, with pro-German leanings.
Even months later, Sophie was said by the British still to be harboring some animosity toward those w
ho wreaked havoc in Greece in 1909–10. According to a report from the British minister in Athens: “The memories of 1909 are gradually fading from the minds of the members of the Royal Family” and “the Crown Prince has shown signs of realising the necessities of his situation and of allowing bygones to be bygones; but the Crown Princess maintains an uncompromising attitude, which is unfortunately encouraged by the German Minister and his wife.”20 But this was not to say that Sophie had not forgotten how her brother, Wilhelm II, had acted toward Greece more than a decade before. If a contemporary publication is to be believed, even after over a decade had passed since Wilhelm sided against Greece in the Greco-Turkish War, “the Crown Princess of Greece has a special grievance against her brother because, when Greece last made war on Turkey in 1897, the Kaiser gave his sympathy entirely to the Turks.”21
By the end of 1912, there was no doubt that Sophie and her family had survived the serious assault on the dynasty brought about by the Military League. In fact, the dynasty had rallied to the service of Greece to such an extent that in spite of the troubles of 1909–10, Sir Francis Elliot was moved to conclude that, as a military leader, Crown Prince Constantine “has won the confidence and affection of his men.” Queen Olga, meanwhile, “always foremost in good works, has been indefatigable in the organisation of hospitals and the relief of refugees. The Crown Princess has directed her activities along similar lines.”22
Sadly for Sophie, war, an assassination, and yet more war were looming over the horizon, so that there would be virtually no respite from tragedy.
Just like Russia in 1904–06, Romania in 1907, and Greece in 1909, Spain in 1909 was in the throes of fighting off revolutionaries. The outbreak of violence centered on the Catalonian city of Barcelona, where a combination of socialists, republicans, anarchists, and labor rebels wreaked havoc on Spain’s second largest city. As one historian puts it, “terrorism was the order of the day, and the Government accordingly took extraordinary precautions” to deal with the violence. “The constitutional guarantees were suspended, the Press was muzzled, and a measure was proposed by which anarchist outrages could be repressed.”23
To exacerbate matters, Spain at this time also had troops stationed in Morocco, where it was hoped that the humiliation suffered in the Spanish-American War could be redeemed by a new adventure in this part of Africa. Reservists from Catalonia were ordered to quell the Riff mountain tribesmen in northern Morocco. Many of these soldiers came from poor working families and their absence meant loss of income for their families back home. Many also interpreted the order to war as an order to protect the interests of the Spanish mine owners in the Riff Mountains. The opposition to the government thus took on the tone of class exploitation. A surge of anti-government feeling swept through Barcelona, Catalonia’s largest city. This triggered an outbreak of violence known as “la Semana Trágica (the Tragic Week)” in which thirty thousand revolutionaries fought against six thousand police and troops in a ferocious battle.
According to a report sent by the British minister at Madrid, “the outburst was entirely unexpected,” though it later became clear that “it was carefully and secretly prepared some time before.” For a week, “a state of unveiled insurrection prevailed,” claiming the life of hundreds. Since anti-clericalism was a major feature of these revolutionaries, it came as no surprise that the perpetrators of the insurrection went on an orgy of violence against anyone and anything associated with the Church. Some forty religious houses were “more or less completely destroyed by fire.…Communication with the outside by rail and telegraph was for a time completely cut off. Continuous heavy firing rendered the streets impassable.”24
In his despatches from Barcelona, The Times reporter noted that “there has been much street fighting, and many churches and convents have been destroyed…it is feared that the loss of life and damage to property have been very heavy.” This, plus the fact that communication with Barcelona had been cut off, led the reporter to conclude that “the situation is grave.”25
With the outbreak of violence in Barcelona, concerns about the safety of the Spanish royal family grew. The numerous attempts on King Alfonso’s life—the wedding-day bombing still fresh in people’s minds—were vivid reminders of just how dangerous it was to be a monarch of a country in the Iberian Peninsula. After all, only a little over a year had passed since King Carlos I of Portugal and his son, the crown prince, were shot to death in their own country. These double assassinations involving a neighboring king and his heir undoubtedly made an impact on Ena, who had come so close to death on her own wedding day. The Empress Eugénie felt as much, writing in 1909: “I imagine that the King and my beloved Ena will be moved by the crime against Carlos I of Portugal.”2 Fears of being overthrown and assassinated no doubt crossed Ena’s mind more than once in the summer of 1909. Fortunately, officials in Madrid acted quickly to head off the spread of Catalonian violence that might easily have overtaken the capital.
Though Madrid escaped the violence that wracked Barcelona, by the end of 1909, Queen Ena and King Alfonso had every right to be concerned about their country. In municipal elections, for example, the votes showed a victory for the left. And in Madrid, “not a single candidate of the Right was elected.” This meant that of those occupying the capital’s town council, “the majority will be anti-monarchical.” As Sir Maurice de Bunsen wrote to Sir Edward Grey in December 1909, “in these surroundings the throne is in a difficult and delicate position.”27 The question was, how long were King Alfonso and Queen Victoria Eugenie going to be able to fend off those who envisaged a radical move toward a republican Spain?
As the winds of revolutionary change picked up force in the twentieth century, a fight pitting royalists and radicals against each other took hold in far-flung corners of Europe. The stage was set in Spain, Russia, and Greece for a showdown of ideologies; and caught right in the middle were three of Queen Victoria’s granddaughters—Ena, Alix, and Sophie.
Fourteen
“LA REINA HERMOSA”
QUEEN ENA’S HAPPINESS IN HER BABY SON AND KING ALFONSO’S pride in his heir was dealt a tremendous blow when court doctors carried out a circumcision on the Prince of the Asturias and it was discovered that the baby’s bleeding would not stop. Shock and consternation set in.
From the day of her marriage to King Alfonso XIII, Queen Victoria Eugenie’s life careened from one tragedy to another. Like Tsarina Alexandra, who lived in a country marked by its instability and the shadow of assassination, Queen Ena faced a similar situation in Spain. But a second, more personal tragedy dogged these two women, one that had profound consequences for their lives. This tragedy—hemophilia—they shared with their grandmother, Queen Victoria. But of all three women, it was arguably Queen Ena who suffered the most; for unlike Queen Victoria and Tsarina Alexandra, whose marriages were unaffected by the appearance of the disease in their sons, Ena’s transmission of the deadly gene into the House of Bourbon sent her marriage hurtling toward dangerous waters.
In 1907 there was still little, if any, hint of trouble in Ena’s paradise, at least where her mother, Princess Beatrice, was concerned. Indeed, Beatrice took great pride in her daughter’s happiness, telling the Bishop of Ripon: “I am so thankful for my dear child’s thorough contentment in her married life with her kind excellent husband, & precious little boy. She is quite unchanged, simple & still childlike, & it reconciles one to the pain of having her so far, to know how much she is beloved in her new country, & her upright straight character appreciated.” As for Alfonso XIII, “if he is only spared to do one half of what he wishes for his country he will indeed be a blessing. To me he is a most affectionate thoughtful son, & he fits so well into our little family circle.”1
Within six months of writing this letter, Princess Beatrice became a grandmother for the second time when Ena gave birth at La Granja to a healthy baby boy, who was named Jaime. Despite the arrival in quick succession of two sons, cracks in the marriage began to appear as early as the su
mmer of 1908. Ena awoke one morning to find that her husband had unexpectedly left her. Writing to Alfonso from Miramar, the queen expressed her bewilderment, confessing “I was sad yesterday upon going to bed at the knowledge that we would not see each other for a week. You left as if you did not say good-bye.…Your loving wife, Ena.” The wounded wife, still a newlywed in some respects, added a postscript that displayed her heartache: “Our good-bye was so terribly hurried and I did not have the faintest idea why you walked by way of the garden like you did [so] that I could not reach the front to see you until finally someone came to tell me that you had left much earlier.”2 King Alfonso’s unexpected absence amounted to the first real sign that he was prone to fits of depression. It would appear that the mercurial Alfonso preferred the company found in Santander to that of his beautiful young wife.
The next day, in a bid to tug at her husband’s heartstrings, Ena sent a message, telling him about their sons and her busy schedule: “I saw the boys and have found that poor little Jaime has had a bad night because of stomach pains. I have many audiences.” When she received a reply the following day, she was thrilled and wrote back immediately:
My dear Alfonso: I was pleased to receive your letter. Jaime is now better but still quite pale. After the pains the poor boy suffered. Alfonso is much better and quite fun. While you are away, I spend a great deal of my time with the boys and that is how it seems I console myself from your absence. Last night was very cold and the bed seemed terribly large and vacant. I longed to have you next to me so I can rock you [to sleep] and have you warm me…I kiss you with all my affection, I remain your long devoted wife, Ena.3
Even as Alfonso began to show signs of being his old self by writing back to his wife, Ena—still only twenty at the time—showed every sign of being in love with her husband. Her replies (this time from England, where she went to visit her family) continued in an effort to keep alive the passion in their marriage. “God bless you, Alfonso,” went one of them. “You cannot imagine how I miss you. Many kisses from your wife who loves you with her whole soul, Ena.”4 The situation seemed all the more tragic since in Alfonso’s search for a bride, the king had been determined above all to let his heart rule. He made no secret of this and repeatedly said, “I shall marry a princess who takes my fancy, and nobody else. I want to love my wife.”5 Yet in just a few short years, the young couple already had to weather a mini-crisis in their marriage.
Born to Rule: Five Reigning Consorts, Granddaughters of Queen Victoria Page 23