“The cloud grows blacker every day, and the anxiety we all live in is very great,”[125] Alice wrote to her mother, knowing that a costly war could bankrupt the little Grand Duchy. Moreover, since Hesse would side with Austria, she and Vicky would find themselves on opposing sides, as would Louis and his brother, Henry, who was serving in the Prussian army.
To make matters worse, Alice was now six months pregnant and, when Louis left with his troops, she would be ‘quite alone’, worrying about his safety and that of her children.
“What shall I do?” she asked the Queen. “…As long as [Louis] comes home safe again – that is all I shall think of. Please God to spare me that fearful anxiety which weighs on me now already; for he having only a brigade could not keep out of danger, like Fritz [Vicky’s husband] in Schleswig.”[126]
In Berlin, Vicky, who had recently given birth to a fifth child, was equally anxious to avoid a war, which, she believed, had been deliberately orchestrated by Bismarck.
“Not a day passes,” she had told the Queen, “that the wicked man does not with the greatest ability counteract and thwart what is good, and drive on towards war, turning and twisting everything to serve his own purpose. As often as we are a little hopeful again and see a means of getting out of the fix, we hear shortly after that the means have been rendered unavailable; the tissue of untruths is such that one gets quite perplexed with only listening to them, but the net is cleverly made, and the King, in spite of all his reluctance, gets more and more entangled in it without perceiving it.”[127]
In the midst of the national crisis, Vicky faced a more agonising crisis at home. No sooner had Fritz left at the head of his army than her two-year-old son, Sigismund, whom Alice had nursed in Berlin, contracted meningitis. With his father and all the court doctors away, there was no one on hand to alleviate his suffering, and his death on 18th June plunged Vicky into such despair that she commissioned an effigy of the child to be placed in his cot which, to the consternation of the court, she regularly visited.
“I have to bear this awful trial alone, without my poor Fritz,” she wept to her mother. “My little darling graciously lent me for a short time, to be my pride, my joy, my hope, is gone, gone, where my passionate devotion cannot follow, from where my love cannot recall him!...What I suffer none can know, few knew how I loved. It was my own happy secret, the long cry of agony which rises from the inmost depth of my soul, reaches Heaven alone.”[128]
Saddened by the news, concerned for her sister and anxious about the impending conflict, Alice prayed for peace but prepared for war by gathering supplies and arranging to have her two little girls sent to the safety of their grandmother’s home in England. By the middle of the month, the Prussians had crossed the Hessian border and, ten days later, Louis left for the front on a horse provided by the Queen.
Notwithstanding the imminent birth of her baby, Alice at once set to work, procuring rags for bandages, begging her mother for supplies and assisting in the hospitals in the blistering heat of the summer. Alongside the casualties of the battlefield, war invariably led to epidemics, and Alice, who had already seen the effects of smallpox in Hesse, now found herself face to face with cholera victims. Amid the spread of the disease and the echo of the Prussian guns on the palace walls, she went into labour on July 11th when, to her great relief, Louis suddenly reappeared to be present at the birth of a third daughter. The child was named Irène, after the goddess of peace.
Louis’ experiences in battle had filled him with such an abhorrence of bloodshed that he urgently pleaded with his uncle to agree to Prussian terms to end the conflict. The Grand Duke, however, was slow to yield and when, after only three days’ leave, Louis returned to his regiment, Alice was more frantic than ever, worrying about Louis’ safety and appalled by the desolation at home.
“From all parts of the country the people beg me to do what I can. The confusion here is awful, the want of money alarming; right and left one must help. As the Prussians pillaged here, I have many people’s things hidden in the house. Even whilst in bed I had to see gentlemen in my room, as there were things to be done and asked which had to come straight to me. Then our poor wounded – the wives and mothers begging I should inquire for their husbands and children. It is a state of affairs too dreadful to describe.”[129]
Food was in such short supply that even the troops were close to starvation and, for three weeks at the height of the conflict, Louis and his fellow officers ate nothing but brown bread.
Such was the devastation that it was almost a relief when the speed and effectiveness of the Prussian advance brought the conflict to an end sooner than expected. After only seven weeks, the resounding Prussian victory at Könnigrätz paved the way to peace. As negotiations began, Fritz returned home swathed in glory for his leadership and military successes but it did not take long for Bismarck to assume all the honours for the victory.
“I rejoice as a Prussian at the heroic conduct of our troops but my joy is damped with the fear that they have shed their blood in vain,” Vicky wrote to the Queen. “With such a man and such principles at the head of our Government how can I look forward to satisfactory results for Germany, or for us?”[130]
Louis was also acclaimed for his courage and leadership but, while victory brought some compensation for Vicky, defeat only created further anxieties for Alice. In August, her children returned from England and, although cholera was rampant in the region, she spent several days with Louis in his regimental quarters where they waited to hear what reparations the Prussians would demand of the states which had fought against them.
Negotiations continued for several months, eventually culminating in the Treaty of Prague by which Austria was denied any further intervention in German affairs, and Schleswig-Holstein was incorporated into Prussia, as was the Kingdom of Hanover, which had, for so long, been ruled by members of the British royal family. Queen Victoria pleaded with Vicky to intercede on behalf of both the King of Hanover and Alice’s Hesse-Darmstadt, but, despite her continued affection for her sister, Vicky’s reply was uncharacteristically sharp:
“At this sad time, one must separate one’s feelings for one’s relations quite from one’s judgement of political necessities, or one would be swayed to and fro on all sides…they were told beforehand what they would have to expect…as rivers of blood had flowed and the sword decided this contest, the victor must makes his own terms and they must be hard ones for many…We have made enormous sacrifices and the nation expects them not to be in vain. This is the only answer I can give you at present.”[131]
Nonetheless, thanks partly to Alice and Vicky’s relationship and the high esteem in which Alice was held by the Prussian King, Hesse-Darmstadt fared better than many of its neighbours in that it was allowed to retain its independence. Even so, the Grand Duke was forced to cede large areas of land and pay three million florins in reparation, as well as twenty-five thousand florins every day for six weeks to maintain the occupying Prussian forces. On a personal level, the Prussian seizure of former Hessian lands deprived Alice of a country home – the former property of the late Langravine Elizabeth of Hesse-Homburg – which had been promised to Louis. The house, at the foot of the Taunus Mountains, was offered instead to Vicky but, out of loyalty to Alice, she refused to live in it. On a grander scale, the reparation payments virtually bankrupted the Grand Duchy, as Alice told her mother:
“We are almost ruined and must devote all our energies to the reconstruction of our suffering country,”[132]
This time, though, Alice’s pleas of poverty fell on deaf ears, as the volatile Queen was becoming indifferent to her financial difficulties; and, while one war was over, a more personal conflict between mother and daughter, was gradually reaching its height.
Chapter 15 –
She Should Accommodate Herself To My Habits
Alice’s financial difficulties began long before the Austro-Prussian War. As her father had predicted, the £30,000 dowry and £6,000 annuity did not go
far for a woman in her position, particularly for one who supported so many charitable institutions and was in the process of building and furnishing a new home.
As early as 1863, Alice told her mother that she and Louis did not ‘go about much’ as travelling was so expensive. Two years later, they journeyed to Switzerland as private citizens in order to keep the cost to a minimum; and in 1866, when the Queen suggested that Alice might enjoy a specific holiday destination, Alice responded that it would be impracticable ‘on account of money’. Following the stresses of the Austro-Prussian War, Alice’s doctor recommended that she should take a quiet rest in the mountains but, once again, she had to reply that the expense was too great at such a time.
Queen Victoria had made a substantial contribution to the building of the New Palace, but even then, it proved so expensive that Louis was obliged to take out a loan from Coutts’ bank, using the house as surety.
“We must live so economically,” Alice told her mother, “– not going anywhere, or seeing many people, so as to be able to spare as much a year as we can. England cost us a great deal, as the visit was short last time. We have sold four carriage horses and only have six to drive with now, two of which the ladies constantly want for theatre visits etc.; so we are rather badly off in some things.”
In March 1866, the palace, for which Alice had personally designed the furnishings and décor, and which, in Lady Knightley’s opinion looked ‘like a bad copy of Buckingham Palace’, was finally habitable. Though Alice and Louis were delighted by their new home, the expense of its upkeep and the repayment of loans added to their financial burden. Only two months after they had moved in, the builder informed them that he was on the point of bankruptcy and needed them to settle their bills in full ‘to save him from ruin’ but, as Alice told her mother, she and Louis could ‘scarcely manage it’. The cost of the war compounded the situation as there would now be no possibility of further support from the Grand Duke or the councils, leaving them no alternative but to adapt as best they could.
Having grown up in a house filled with servants, Alice was now faced with finding ways to reduce her staff to the minimum. To avoid the expense of dressmakers, she made her children’s clothes; and she and Louis educated their infant daughters to postpone hiring a governess for as long as possible.
“I manage all the nursery accounts, and everything myself, which gives me plenty to do, as everything increases, and, on account of the house, we must live very economically for these next years.”[133]
Unsurprisingly, Alice was grateful when her mother sent money for specific occasions but by the mid-1860s the Queen was growing tired of these declarations of poverty and constant requests for more support. When, for example, in 1867 Alice asked for two pearls a year for each of her daughters, the Queen wrote indignantly to Vicky that pearls were far too expensive and:
“Alice and Louis get money from me for their birthdays and Xmas to help them in furnishing their house – and always more and more is asked for.”[134]
Although the complaint was ostensibly about money, the real reason for the Queen’s irritation was far deeper-rooted for by then her opinion of her ‘modest and humble’ daughter had altered dramatically.
A lack of inhibition and unseemly studies were one thing, but to be openly challenged was intolerable to the Queen; and, while her siblings might quietly disagree with their mother, outspoken Alice could not keep silent in the face of a perceived injustice. Her first major faux pas came in the autumn of 1865 when she voiced her suspicions about the marriage of her younger sister, Lenchen.
From the moment Alice left home, ‘poor dear Lenchen’ had taken over as their mother’s prop and support, becoming so indispensable that it seemed she would never be permitted a life of her own. Although lacking Vicky’s intellect and Alice’s grace, Lenchen had many appealing qualities and by the age of nineteen was earnestly hoping to find a husband. It appeared to Alice that the Queen was intent on thwarting that hope, for, although she was not totally opposed to the idea of Lenchen marrying, she set a condition that was likely to deter potential suitors. Having already ‘lost’ two daughters to foreign courts, she was unwilling to part with a third and therefore insisted that whoever married Lenchen must be willing to settle in England. As a commoner seemed to be out of the question and few foreign royalties could accept such a demand, Lenchen’s prospects appeared very bleak until 1865 when the ever-vigilant Vicky unearthed an impoverished prince who met the necessary criterion.
At the age of thirty-four, Christian of Schleswig-Holstein was still single and looking for a bride, and, since his family had lost their lands in the Schleswig-Holstein Wars, he would be more than happy to accept the Queen’s offer of a free home in England. In spite of the fifteen-year age difference, Vicky and Aunt Feo were convinced of Christian’s ‘excellent qualities’, so Lenchen was duly dispatched to Coburg to meet him. Just three months later, in December 1865, they were betrothed.
Shocked by the speed of the arrangement, Alice was aghast. Her sister, she thought, was being forced into a loveless marriage with an older man simply to accommodate her mother’s desire to keep her in service forever. Moreover, at first sight, Christian was hardly the most attractive of princes. Even Queen Victoria, who favoured the match, was concerned about his poor teeth, his aged appearance, his persistent cough, his lethargy and his addition to smoking. All in all, to Alice, the idea of his marrying Lenchen was utterly preposterous, and she was not alone in her objections.
Bertie’s wife, the Danish Princess of Wales, objected so vehemently to his family’s part in the Schleswig-Holstein affair that, with Bertie’s support, she declared that she would boycott the wedding. When the press caught a whiff of the disagreement, they invented all kinds of outlandish stories, claiming Christian was a madman and a bigamist with numerous children whom Lenchen intended to adopt.
Whenever the Queen met with opposition, her obstinacy increased. Now, as she rallied to Christian’s cause, her wrath fell upon Bertie and Alice, her ‘undutiful’, ‘heartless’ and ‘disrespectful’ children. Alice, she said sweepingly, had ‘done herself such harm’ and ‘become so sharp and bitter, and no one wishes to have her in their house.’[135]
Vicky, caught in the middle of the dispute, attempted to pacify her mother by blaming Alice’s outspokenness on an ‘irritability of nerves’, but the Queen was not convinced by the excuse. Even when Alice eventually spoke to Lenchen and, having ascertained that she was genuinely happy with Christian, persuaded Bertie and Alexandra to attend the wedding, the Queen’s opinion of her continued to deteriorate.
Although the Austro-Prussian War prevented Alice from travelling to England for the ceremony, she was happy that her children were able to attend and, on the day itself, sent warmest greetings to her mother, asking for God’s blessing on the marriage. This, though, was but a temporary lull and the saga was far from over, for when Alice discovered that Lenchen was to receive an equal annuity to her own – and it was rumoured that the Queen intended to raise Lenchen’s to £18,000 – as well as a free home and a £100,000 gift from her mother, she was deeply rankled and complained of the arrangement to her siblings. Her sister, Louise, lost no time in spreading Alice’s complaints and when news of what had been said reached the Queen she was so incensed that she made it clear that Alice and her family would not be welcome in England that year.
Matters came to a head in January 1867 when the Queen inadvertently mixed up two letters – one to Alice and one to Vicky – and placed them in the wrong envelopes. The letter intended for Vicky reached Alice, who was shocked to read a long list of grievances about her behaviour. Not wishing to exacerbate the situation, she immediately wrote to Vicky, expressing her remorse and asking her to tell the Queen that she regretted causing such distress.
Embarrassed by her mistake, and placated by the humble response, Queen Victoria instructed Vicky to:
“Tell dear Alice that now she properly and lovingly owns she is much grieved at what s
he did and said (I will truly believe out of hastiness and imprudence) that I will forgive and forget and receive her with open arms – and am indeed looking forward to seeing her for, I hope, a good two months in the middle of June with dear Louis and the darling children.”[136]
Despite this professed willingness to forgive and forget, the Queen immediately launched into a further tirade: Alice had gossiped too freely; she never wrote lovingly of Lenchen; she had criticised Christian; she was jealous of her sister; she was irritable and sharp; and if she were to come to England, she had better behave well, as her mother’s nerves could not stand any more mischief. In conclusion, the mother of nine children decided that the only explanation for Alice’s behaviour was her exhaustion from having so many (three, at the time!) ‘large’ children, one after another.
A couple of weeks later, the Queen was still ruminating over Alice’s faults. Until recently she had been happy to follow Alice’s advice and had been grateful for her support, even embarking on excursions quite simply because ‘Alice advises it’. Now, though, her view of the Hessians’ previous visits to England was clouded by her annoyance. Ever since her marriage, she decided, Alice had become so domineering and officious that she had made herself very unpopular with the entire household.
“When [she] came the last two times she grumbled about everything – and Louis also sometimes – the rooms, the hours, wanting to make me do this and that…If Alice wishes to come she should accommodate herself to my habits.”[137]
Therein, though she was unwilling to admit it, lay the real root of the Queen’s disgruntlement. The dispute about Lenchen’s marriage was but a minor upset compared to Alice’s inability to accept her mother’s refusal to resume the public role which she had abandoned since the death of the Prince Consort. In this, Alice was doing precisely what her father would have done, and undoubtedly following the instructions he gave her from his deathbed. Knowing how Queen Victoria had reacted to the death of the Duchess of Kent, Prince Albert surely realised how she would respond to his own demise, and it is almost certain that he urged Alice to ensure that her mother would fulfil her obligations as Queen.
Alice, The Enigma - A Biography of Queen Victoria's Daughter Page 16