Queen Victoria's Matchmaking

by Deborah Cadbury

  Queen Victoria understood the high price of all this. Almost as though she had a premonition, she could not stop herself lamenting Ella’s choice. Her granddaughter was a gentle, trusting young woman with no experience of the dangerous world out there, walking unknowingly towards a cliff edge. In New Year 1884 the queen turned to Victoria of Hesse’s future husband, Louis of Battenberg, the horrific assassination of Sergei’s father still not far from her thoughts. The terrible state of Russia was ‘shown by this most horrible last nihilistic murder’, she told Louis. She had learned that Sergei’s palace was very near the Anichkov Palace in St Petersburg, so ‘it makes one shudder to think of her [Ella] going there’.67 At the same time Queen Victoria endeavoured to accommodate her granddaughter’s wishes. There were formalities to go through, photographs were exchanged, and plans made for her to meet Sergei. Ella tactfully agreed to sit for a portrait for her grandmother. ‘It will be a pleasure to sit for you,’ she wrote politely.68

  But such efforts to appease her grandmother received a serious setback in late April 1884, when Queen Victoria arrived at Darmstadt for the wedding of Victoria of Hesse to Prince Louis. The older members of the Hesse family had an explosive secret that they could not bring themselves to reveal immediately. Ella and Irene met their grandmother at Darmstadt Station, and waiting at the door of the Neues Palais were Alix and her good-looking brother, Ernest, who had grown ‘immensely tall’. All the handsome Battenberg brothers had gathered; the groom, Louis, was accompanied by Alexander of Bulgaria – who at the time was under consideration as a husband for Moretta – and their younger brother, Henry. Queen Victoria was also introduced to Grand Duke Sergei, who she found ‘very tall and gentleman-like’ but ‘pale and delicate looking’.69 Everything was going well until a few days before the wedding, when it fell to the unfortunate bride to reveal the bombshell. There was to be a second Hessian wedding on the same day as her own: her father, Louis of Hesse, wanted to marry his mistress, Alexandrine de Kolemine. This woman had the drawback of being both divorced and Russian. Queen Victoria was stunned.

  The queen’s strategy when she was seriously put out was to avoid entering into any direct discussion with the offending party, but to set out her views in writing. Although they were all under the same palace roof, grandmama queen was not to be seen. Instead a strongly worded invective emerged from her rooms. This strategy had the merit that she could not be contradicted. She asserted her authority, while avoiding any risk of a challenge to it. The deeply offensive marriage ‘would lower him [Louis of Hesse] so much that I cld. not have him near so much as before,’ she warned Victoria of Hesse. ‘To choose a Lady of another religion who has just been divorced . . . wld I fear be a terrible mistake . . .’ It would ‘shock’ the wider family and ‘do him immense harm in his own Country’.70

  Her son-in-law would not listen. Ignoring the queen and somewhat insensitively overshadowing his oldest daughter’s wedding, Louis of Hesse went ahead with his own marriage secretly on the same day. Shocked guests called their carriages and departed, first among them the mighty Hohenzollerns who saw it as a terrible disgrace. The queen was angry; she felt her own presence in Darmstadt had been exploited to provide respectability to the arrangement. It was time to reassert her authority. She ordered Bertie to instruct Louis that his second marriage would be annulled. The queen herself wrote to the British ambassador to ensure the German authorities speeded up the elimination of this highly unsuitable Russian woman from the family tree. During the high drama, the queen failed to notice that her youngest daughter, Beatrice, or ‘Baby’, her most faithful companion, had fallen in love with the third fine-looking Battenberg brother, Prince Henry. This additional shock was kept from the queen for a few weeks.

  Ella paid one final visit to her grandmother some weeks before her own wedding in June 1884. The small family party at Windsor was under strain. Almost frightening, almost absurd, her beloved grandmother would not speak to Beatrice, but pushed notes across the table to communicate, such was her acute distress at the idea of her youngest daughter’s proposed marriage. Ella’s imminent departure to the other side of the continent heightened her sense of loss.

  ‘I cannot say how sad we were leaving you,’ Ella wrote politely to the queen. Her grandmother’s farewell gift of a bracelet was a treasured memento ‘which has made me love you more than ever’.71 She left Windsor in its summer glory, the powerful image of her grandmother swathed in black, pushing notes across the table, a symbol of the controlling, restrictive, eccentric world she was leaving behind. Independent Ella was determined to go her own way. Exciting new horizons beckoned in Russia. ‘I think I know what I am doing,’ she told her grandmother, ‘& if I am unhappy, which I am sure will never be, it will be all my doing.’72

  Twelve-year-old Princess Alix of Hesse felt excited and curious when she accompanied her family into the heart of the mysterious Russia for Ella’s wedding. Their reception in Russia in June 1884 was like something from the pages of a fairy story. The interior of the train conveying them ever further north-east towards St Petersburg on the Baltic coast was decked in white flowers, scenting the train like a hothouse. When the Hesse family arrived at Peterhof Station there was the Russian tsar himself, Alexander III, a great bear of a man, with his diminutive wife, the Empress Marie Feodorovna. Queen Victoria had warned her Hessian granddaughters that she ‘does not look upon [the Tsar] as a gentleman’.73 But the alleged ungentlemanly qualities of the Tsar of all the Russias were not on display. Alexander III welcomed the bride and her family with considerable warmth and appeared the quintessential family man.

  Outside the station a show of Romanov wealth awaited them: golden carriages drawn by horses perfectly matched with white plumes and golden reins, the liveried postilions glittering and showy as princes in the summer sunshine. The scene cast its inevitable spell and Alix, who was fascinated by the journey, was ‘in a very cheerful mood’ as they travelled to the Peterhof Palace by the sea on the Gulf of Finland.74 The Peterhof was no modest, German ducal palace; everything proclaimed the imperial might of the family into which Ella was marrying. The palace had been modelled on Versailles by Peter the Great in the early eighteenth century and completed with Romanov excess. High water fountains formed a dramatic cascade between the upper and the lower gardens. Inside, the exquisite interiors housed treasures that spoke of Romanov glory: paintings illustrating great Russian victories, gilded French antiques, finely crafted Chinese cabinets and Fabergé ornaments. The Hesse and Romanov families became further acquainted in this setting of lavish beauty beneath skies of such northerly latitude that the sun never fully set. It was as though darkness itself was banished as Ella was feted by her new Romanov relations in the all-night glow of St Petersburg’s luminous June skies.

  After two weeks it was time for Ella to make her formal entrance into St Petersburg by the side of the popular new tsarina. Alix and other family members followed in a long procession of carriages that wound their way slowly through the streets to the magnificent Winter Palace. Victoria of Battenberg (formerly Hesse), by now somewhat dazed by the number of palaces, referred to it simply as ‘the Big Palace’.75 There was nothing to cloud their entry that summer’s day; no reminder that this was the very place where Alexander II had died after the terrorist attack by People’s Will. Victoria of Battenberg told her grandmother of the great enthusiasm of the peaceful crowds. She did not know that police had been drafted in from other cities to keep the Romanov clan safe.76

  Wearing diamonds once owned by Catherine the Great, some so weighty that they hurt, the bride made her historic entrance into the chapel of the Winter Palace.77 The powerful mysticism of ceremony was hypnotic. The air seemed heavy with music as many priests were singing and chanting, interweaving melodies that soared upwards, filling the vast space with a sense of the sublime. Almost intoxicating, incense drifted over the congregation, obscuring richly coloured icons, but finally revealing the bride processing steadily through the crowd, her silver dress e
ncased in jewels, a pink diamond tiara framing her face. Ella appeared elevated to a star on some vast and gilded stage. She seemed not to be made of common clay. ‘It was all like a beautiful dream,’ her sister, Irene, told their grandmother. The costumes were like ‘a scene out of the middle ages’. Ella seemed like the romantic ‘Circassian princess whose trousseau consisted of a Bushel of pearls’.78 Alix’s cousin, Princess Marie of Edinburgh, was equally entranced. ‘Her beauty and sweetness was a thing of dreams.’79

  There was one person present who was not preoccupied with the bride: the sixteen-year-old tsarevich Nicholas, oldest son of Alexander III. The heir to the Russian throne found that his eyes were held by a young German princess standing near the altar in a white muslin dress. He could watch unobserved, catching glimpses of her even features framed by roses clipped to her blonde hair. It was Ella’s youngest sister, Alix. In the coming days, as Nicholas saw more of Alix in the many celebrations in the imperial palaces of St Petersburg, he singled out this new member of his immediate family as special.

  Nicholas did not take after his Romanov relatives but bore a much more striking resemblance to his British cousin, Prince George, Eddy’s younger brother. Their mothers were sisters and the two cousins, George and Nicholas, although living far apart, could be mistaken for twins; the same short stature, dark hair and large, expressive eyes. Nicholas was just as bright and clever as George, Ella told the queen, ‘only a little calmer’.80 Polite, even-tempered, with an easy charm, there was a softness to Nicholas that Alix immediately warmed to. At formal events, Nicholas found that little Alix was often at his side. Although no longer a child, Nicholas was not too old to join in the younger children’s games. He had ‘a terrific romp’ on one occasion with ‘darling little Alix’ and her brother, Ernest, he wrote in his diary. ‘We jumped about together on the net . . . went completely wild on the maypole . . . fooled around a lot on the swing’ and even ‘told each other secrets’.81

  Alix was accompanied by her governess, Miss Jackson, but there was far too much excitement to settle down to study. ‘I have been much with little Xenia [Nicholas’s younger sister] and her brothers and only come to our rooms at bedtime so Miss Jackson hopes that you will kindly excuse me not writing sooner,’ Alix apologised to Queen Victoria on 18 June. ‘It is very pretty here and I enjoy myself very much.’82 Alix wanted to see everything; she had a sense of fun and her happy laughter was heard everywhere. Nicholas was completely absorbed by Alix, ‘whom I really liked a lot’ he confided to his diary. Less than a week later he was sure. ‘We love each other,’ he wrote, the day they drew their names together on a window in the Italian House. Nicholas was ‘very very sad’ when it was time for her to go.83 He tried to give ‘darling little Alix’ a memento, a beautiful brooch. Confused by his token of affection, Alix later returned it.

  For the tsarevich, the grand wedding of his Uncle Sergei in St Petersburg was a turning point in his life. His new ‘Aunt Ella’, now known as ‘Her Imperial Highness Grand Duchess Elisabeth Feodorovna’, was less than four years his senior. As their paths crossed at the Russian court over the following months they became close friends. Ella appreciated his gentle personality and gradually she came to think of the possibility of a union between her new nephew and her sister, Alix.

  Queen Victoria was soon alarmed by reports that appeared to endorse her anxieties about Russian marital alliances. It was widely rumoured that Ella was not happy and that her supposedly devoted husband was having affairs with junior officers in his regiment. The queen was sufficiently troubled that she consulted the British ambassador in St Petersburg, who conducted enquiries but was unable to provide her with reassurance. The case remains unresolved today with Ella’s most recent biographer, Christopher Warwick, concluding that ‘the balance of probability still suggests that Serge was gay’.84 Apart from concerns over his sexual orientation, Ella’s relatives also worried about the powerful control he exerted over his young wife. Sergei ruled the household in a way that brokered no opposition and was known for his quick temper. There was ‘something almost menacing about him’, observed Ella’s cousin, Marie of Edinburgh, as though ‘there was a tyrant within him’.85

  If Ella ever felt she had been taken in by her feelings of attraction to Sergei, she was not about to admit it. Innocent, trusting, but fiercely independent, she had wilfully ignored her grandmother’s advice. Now she had her pride. Possibly, too, she was confused. She had strong feelings for Sergei and when he reprimanded her, even in public, it was very easy to believe that she was wanting in some way. She lost no opportunity in her letters to her family to slip in a word about her happiness. ‘It makes me always so heartily glad when I hear how happy you both are,’ she wrote to her oldest sister’s husband, Louis of Battenberg, ‘it is so pleasant that we four enjoy the same perfect contentment.’86 She also enlisted her sympathetic brother, Ernest, to help scotch the rumours. Ernie, as he was known in the family, believed the hateful gossip originated with Ella’s original admirer, Kaiser Wilhelm, who was exploiting jealousy of Sergei’s elevated position within the Russian court.

  Ella found it was not easy to reassure the queen. Her marriage remained childless and three years later her grandmother was still worried. ‘I’m glad Ella says she is happy,’ the queen wrote to Victoria of Battenberg on 15 February 1887, ‘but it is the whole position in such a corrupt Country where you can trust no one & where politics are so antagonistic to one’s own views & feelings wh. is so sad & distressing to us all.’87 She returned to her suspicions in her next letter. ‘Ella’s constant speaking of her happiness I don’t quite like,’ wrote the queen. ‘When people are very happy they don’t require to tell others of it.’88 But Ella was a fortress, her feelings resistant to any probing. She wrote to reiterate ‘the very deep love’ she felt for her grandmama, ‘as if you were my own Mother’, but gave nothing away. ‘All I can repeat is that I am perfectly happy.’89

  Unexpected news during the spring of 1887 compounded the queen’s feelings of loss of control over her Hessian granddaughters. Without any discussion, Irene, the third Hessian daughter, became engaged to Wilhelm’s younger brother, Henry. ‘It is impossible for me to tell you what a shock your letter gave me!’ the queen wrote to Victoria of Battenberg in February 1887. ‘Indeed I felt quite ill.’ Queen Victoria was ‘deeply hurt’ at Irene’s behaviour. ‘How can I trust her again after such conduct?’ she lamented. The two older daughters had at least kept her informed of developments prior to any announcement. But Irene’s behaviour was ungrateful and out of order. After having been a mother ‘to a gt extent’ and been ‘so vy intimate . . . this want of openness has hurt me deeply,’ she wrote. It reminded her of Ella and Sergei’s engagement, ‘wh I grieve over as much as ever’.90

  These concerns compounded her fears about ‘lovely Alicky’ and she soon returned to her theme. ‘You must prevent further Russians or other people coming to snap her [Alicky] up,’ she insisted to Victoria of Battenberg on 2 March 1887. She wanted her granddaughter settled in Britain. ‘I feel very deeply that my opinion & my advice are never listened to,’ she complained. ‘It was not before Ella’s marriage was decided on wh dear Mama wld never have allowed to come abt . . .’91 She remained concerned at Ella’s strong influence. Since their mother Alice’s death the Hessian sisters had developed a close bond. What chance did Prince Eddy have with Alix? And how could Alix ever be safe? The very idea of her marriage to the Russian heir, Nicholas, was of a different order of danger to any match with a Russian grand duke. Her favourite granddaughter would thereby be in a prominent and dangerous position.

  All this charged history lay behind Queen Victoria’s invitation in the summer of 1888 to both Alix and Eddy to visit her at Balmoral. Ella too was invited, her grandmother perhaps hoping for a frank discussion, but Ella was unable to leave Russia. It is known that the queen wrote to Eddy ‘on the subject’, making her views plain.92 Although this letter has not survived, the lethargic prince understood that he was to appe
ar at Balmoral ready to show some interest in his pretty young cousin. Queen Victoria was determined to avoid another unwelcome Russian engagement behind her back and intended to steer proceedings towards a favourable conclusion for Alix, Eddy and the British throne.

  4

  Alix and Eddy

  ‘You must prevent further Russians . . . coming to snap her up.’

  Queen Victoria to Victoria of Battenberg, 2 March 1887

  Sixteen-year-old Alix of Hesse arrived at Osborne on the Isle of Wight on 31 July 1888 with her nineteen-year-old brother, Ernie, and soon found herself singled out for special attention by the queen.1 Before Prince Albert Victor, or Eddy, was invited to join the party, the queen wanted time with Alix alone. This would give her a chance to assess her granddaughter’s suitability and also, without a word being said, to show Alix the magnificent prospect that could lie before her as a future British queen.

  Day after day Alix was honoured as the queen’s trusted companion, alongside Beatrice, her youngest daughter. There were intimate drives in the open carriage around the island and courtesy trips to see visiting dignitaries such as the Empress Eugenie, wife of Napoleon III, who was staying at Osborne Cottage. After months of painful silence, the queen had agreed to Beatrice’s marriage to Henry of Battenberg on condition that they both live with her. Beatrice’s life continued to revolve around her mother, and Alix was warmly welcomed into their close circle, enjoying informal days reminiscent of her childhood visits. Sometimes she walked with Beatrice beside the queen in her pony chair around the Italianate gardens and the estate, or took tea in the ‘Swiss Cottage’, the wooden chalet that Prince Albert had brought from Switzerland years ago, or sat under the trees, joined by Beatrice’s own children, one-year-old Alexander, and the new baby, known as ‘Ena’, or Victoria Eugenie. Summer days passed happily with Alix integrated into the queen’s daily routine.