From the moment that Queen Victoria was told of Alice’s death, her heart went out to her Hessian granddaughters. For all her complaints about Alice, she knew that she had been a devoted mother whose absence would be keenly felt in the happy Hessian household, and she promised that from now on she would try to be a mother to the children.
When the gloomy Christmas was over and the family was well enough to travel, the Queen invited the Hessians to Osborne for an extended holiday. The sea air, she hoped, might aid their recuperation and the meeting would give her the opportunity to prove that her promise was more than mere words.
In January 1879, when the young princesses arrived with their father and brother on the Isle of Wight, the effects of the loss of Princess Alice were immediately apparent. Victoria, thrust from childhood into the role of mother to her younger siblings, prepared to take over many of the Grand Duchess’s duties and within a short time would adopt many of her charities. Ella, too, had taken to heart her grandmother’s exhortation to walk in Alice’s footsteps in the service of others; but it was six-year-old Alix who seemed most deeply affected by the tragedy. The child whose exuberance had earned her the pet name Sunny was suddenly withdrawn and tormented by nightmares.
“The first months after her mother’s death were untold misery and loneliness for Princess Alix…Long afterwards [she] remembered those deadly sad months when, small and lonely, she sat with old ‘Orchie’ in the nursery, trying to play with new and unfamiliar toys (all her old ones were burned or being disinfected). When she looked up, she saw her old nurse silently crying. The deaths of her beloved Grand Duchess and of Princess May had nearly broken her faithful heart.”[58]
Queen Victoria, the doyenne of mourners, empathised completely with her bereaved son-in-law, Louis. Her own grief at the death of the Prince Consort had almost led to a nervous breakdown and rendered her virtually incapable of carrying out her duties as monarch. Now, seeing Louis wearily wandering around the island where sixteen years earlier he had spent his honeymoon, the Queen began to have doubts about his ability to raise adolescent daughters unaided. The girls, she decided, needed a mother and therefore Louis must remarry as soon as possible.
Of course, the bride would have to be carefully chosen; she must not only be prepared to continue Alice’s educational programme, but she must also be willing to ensure that the girls spent a good deal of time under their grandmother’s supervision in England. Casting her eyes around the court, it did not take long for the Queen to select an ideal candidate: her own youngest daughter Princess Beatrice.
Since Beatrice was only five years older than her eldest Hessian niece, and twenty-one years younger than her prospective groom, the suggestion was hardly appealing. Louis had never shown the least romantic interest in Beatrice and it must have come as a relief to them both to discover that the Church of England forbade marriage between a brother and sister-in-law. Aggrieved that her scheme had been thwarted, Queen Victoria petulantly suggested that the rule could be altered but her proposal was tactfully declined and grudgingly she had to abandon the plan. Beatrice remained at home with her mother and, in time, Louis consoled himself with a mistress – a Polish divorcée, Alexandrine de Kolomine – and a new hunting lodge at Wolfsgarten, about an hour’s drive from Darmstadt, which would soon become the scene of many happy family reunions.
Before the Hessians returned to Darmstadt at the end of February 1879, the Queen appointed them a new governess who had strict instructions to keep her informed of every detail of their progress and development. Uncle Leopold joined them on their homeward journey and, after a break of several weeks at Wolfsgarten, they returned to the New Palace to face the reality of life without Princess Alice.
Although life had changed dramatically for the family, Louis did his utmost to continue to raise his children according to the plans laid down by their mother. The girls could also rely on the unwavering, and occasionally unwelcome, support of Queen Victoria, who adhered to her promise to be a mother to them. She wrote regularly to Victoria with instructions to pass on to her sisters. The pages were filled with assurances of her affection and practical guidance on all manner of subjects. In one letter she could advise them about table manners and diet, before reminding them of the necessity of hard work and the importance of spiritual reading. The Queen was particularly sensitive to Victoria’s position as the eldest child, and frequently urged her to ensure that her younger siblings did not neglect their lessons – particularly Ernie who, according to his tutor, was becoming rather lazy.
Not content to watch their progress from a distance, Queen Victoria encouraged other members of the family to make regular visits to Darmstadt and each year she invited the Hessians for extended holidays in England where her affection and admiration for each of them deepened. Victoria’s good sense and intelligence constantly impressed her; Irène was dear and good; Ella was sensible and most lovely; and Alix was beautiful beyond words.
When it came to considering the girls’ future, the Queen was equally determined to intervene. In 1880, she wrote to Victoria, warning her not to rush into marriage and yet she herself was already reviewing prospective husbands for the young princesses. She was happy to hear from Vicky that her son, Henry, was displaying a marked affection for Irène, and his twenty-year-old brother, Willy, was paying a great deal of attention to her elder sisters.
While launching Victoria on her lifelong addiction to cigarettes (no doubt concealing the fact from his mother and grandmother, both of whom detested the habit), Willy was even more attentive to Ella. As a student, he continued to make regular excursions from his university in Bonn to Darmstadt and soon, in his typically impulsive fashion, he was declaring his love for his pretty young cousin.
Vicky was pleased to hear it. During his early adolescence, alternating between despising and adoring his English mother, Willy had developed an unhealthy fixation with her and had taken to writing her letters filled with passionate descriptions of his dreams about her. While his mother made little of his strange obsession, she was relieved to discover that had fallen in love with someone eminently more suitable. Queen Victoria, too, was elated: who better to calm the reckless boy than his gentle cousin, Ella?
Fourteen-year-old Ella was aghast. More horrified than thrilled by his overbearing attention, she confessed to her elder sister that she thought him ‘absolutely horrid’. Yet she was too polite to be openly rude to him and, the more she demurred, the greater became his ardour. He followed her everywhere, hanging on her words, gazing at her and writing her romantic poems; but Ella was not to be swayed. When at last Willy realised that his suit was hopeless, he could not forgive her. Even years later he could hardly bear to remain in the same room as her but to the end of his life he kept her photograph beside that of his beautiful Aunt Alix, Princess of Wales, on his desk.
For Willy’s paternal grandmother, Queen Augusta, Ella’s refusal was seen as a personal insult for which there was no excuse. In response, she voiced loud criticisms of Alice’s daughters and on one occasional snubbed them in public. Queen Victoria, though equally disappointed to the extent that years later she would sigh when she thought of ‘what might have been,’ accepted Ella’s decision and consoled herself with the thought that her granddaughter’s Hessian good looks and charming manner were sure to win the attention of several other equally eligible suitors.
With so many children and grandchildren across Europe, it was impossible for the Queen to attend every family celebration but for Princess Alice’s daughters she made an exception. In 1881, she was in Darmstadt for Victoria and Ella’s confirmation – a ceremony that also marked a girl’s entry into society. The following year, Ella arrived in England for her first social season and, as she accompanied her grandmother to the theatre and ballet, British newspapers were eagerly speculating on the marriage prospects of the beautiful princess. Aware of the dangers facing stunning but naïve and motherless young women, the Queen advised them not to mix too freely with young people ou
tside the family and was gratified when Victoria replied that she and Ella were content in each other’s company, enjoying the delights of the opera at Wolfsgarten and attending to their mother’s charities, and considered themselves too young to attend balls. Victoria, as tomboyish as ever, preferred galloping on fast horses and watching or even participating in the shoot, to consider a future outside Darmstadt. In spite of their repeated reassurances, however, it was clear to Queen Victoria that it could not be long before such beautiful girls would be receiving proposals of marriage.
Chapter 8 - My Beloved Leopold
Connaughts
Arthur: Duke of Connaught & Strathearn; Queen Victoria’s third son.
Louischen (Louise): Duchess of Connaught.
Children of Arthur & Louischen:
Daisy (Margaret)
Arthur
Patsy (Victoria Patricia)
The Albanys
Leopold: Duke of Albany; Queen Victoria’s youngest son.
Helen: Duchess of Albany.
Children of Leopold & Helen:
Alice
Charles Edward
The cloud of sorrow that descended over Osborne and Windsor following Princess Alice’s death was alleviated the following spring by the cheerful preparations for the wedding of Queen Victoria’s favourite son: Prince Arthur, Duke of Connaught and Strathearn.
Healthy, handsome and untainted by scandal, twenty-nine-year-old Arthur was his mother’s ideal of a prince. Even as a child he had outshone his brothers in her esteem. ‘He is really the best child I ever saw,’[59] she told Vicky when he was eight years old, and the passing of time only added to the charms of this ‘angel of goodness,’ on whose many virtues Queen Victoria loved to dwell.
The godson of the Duke of Wellington, after whom he was named, Arthur had always taken a keen interest in the army and it was only to be expected that he would pass through the Royal Military Academy at Woolwich with distinction. Following his commission in the Royal Engineers, he had played an active part in several expeditions and earned promotion through personal displays of courage. His lack of affectation and insistence upon being treated like any other officer, had won the respect and affection of the troops and, in his subsequent appointments, he made a favourable impression on the peoples of India, Canada and Ireland. Noble in every sense, he so resembled his father that he could not have pleased Queen Victoria more.
“Dear boy!” she had written, “He is so good, and innocent, so amiable and affectionate that I tremble to think to what his pure heart and mind might be exposed. There is no blemish in him…”[60]
In fact, Arthur seemed so perfect and so utterly chaste that she saw no reason for him to marry at all and was taken aback when he returned from a wedding in Potsdam in February 1878, to announce that he had chosen a bride.
With her preference for German spouses, the Queen might have been overjoyed that her favourite son had proposed to Louise (Louischen) of Prussia, but for a cloud that shaded the princess’s background. Her father, a cruel and vindictive man, inflicted so many inhuman tortures on his children that his wife had deserted him, bringing disgrace upon the family. To nineteen-year-old Louischen, the dashing English soldier must have appeared like a knight in shining armour rescuing her from a terrible past. Though she was not the most beautiful of princesses, her devotion captured Arthur’s heart.
In spite of her initial shock, Queen Victoria could deny her favourite son nothing and, though she suggested he would do well to consider other more beautiful brides before rushing into marriage, she raised no objections to the match. After all, she could hardly complain of Louischen’s unfortunate background since it was not so different from that of her own beloved husband. When Prince Albert was a child, his mother had likewise deserted an unfaithful husband for another man and for her sins she was never permitted to see her children again.
Louischen was duly invited to Windsor where she made a pleasing impression upon everyone, despite shocking the Queen by riding unchaperoned with Arthur to Frogmore.
Even the recent death of Princess Alice was not permitted to impinge on the wedding celebrations, which took place on 13th March 1879 in St. George’s Chapel, Windsor. The occasion was commemorated in a rather tedious and verbose poem by the Poet Laureate, Alfred, Lord Tennyson[·], dedicated and addressed to Princess Alice:
“Dead princess, living power, if that which lived,
True life live on – and if the fatal kiss
Born of true life and love – divorce thee not
From earthly love and life…then perhaps…
…this March morn that sees
Thy soldier brother’s bridal orange-bloom
Break thro’ the yews and Cyprus of thy grave,
And thine Imperial mother smile again,
May send one ray to thee!”[61]
Such was the Queen’s devotion to Arthur that, rather than disappearing after the service, she attended the wedding feast. It was the first family party she had attended since the death of Prince Albert.
The Connaughts moved into Buckingham Palace before settling into the newly-built Bagshot Park in Surrey where, on 15th January 1882, their first daughter, Margaret (Daisy), was born. A year later the Duchess gave birth to a son, Arthur, at Windsor Castle; and her youngest child, Victoria Patricia, (Patsy) was born on the feast of St. Patrick, 17th March, 1886, in Buckingham Palace, where her godparents included Aunt Lenchen and Cousin Willy of Prussia.
Queen Victoria was fond of Louischen, and visitors found her affable and charming with a pleasant sense of humour. Within her own home, however, the Duchess adopted an almost militaristic discipline that often left her daughters trembling in terror. Fortunately for the girls, their parents often travelled abroad leaving them in the care of their doting and indulgent grandmother. Freed from the Duchess’s restraint, Daisy showed all the boisterousness of her Hessian cousins and her antics so delighted the Queen that she made allowance for her cheeky vivacity. So fond was the Queen of Daisy that when Arthur, as Commander-in-Chief of his regiment, was posted to India in the autumn of 1886, she declared that the climate was unsuitable for a child of her age, and she should be left in England.
Patsy (‘such a beauty and so good’) was still a babe-in-arms at the time of her father’s posting, and therefore deemed too young to be left behind. Instead, she travelled to Bombay with her parents, remaining under the strict and unyielding discipline of her mother. Though as pretty as her sister, and a gifted linguist and water colour artist, Patsy quailed under her mother’s authoritarian regime, which gradually destroyed her confidence. Quaking in her hand-me-down dresses and too tight shoes, Patsy would have preferred to sink into the background with the whispering Waleses than effervesce with the Edinburghs. It was a handicap that would remain with her throughout her childhood and adolescence.
In 1888, Daisy joined her family in India and, following their return to England, the Connaughts settled again into Bagshot Park from where they made frequent visits to Windsor and Osborne. Their travelling days were far from over, however. In 1899, Arthur was posted to Dublin as Commander-in-Chief of the troops in Ireland. He and his family were provided with an official residence in the city and a house in Phoenix Park, loaned to them by a member of the Guinness family:
“It was a lovely house,” the Queen’s Equerry recalled, “with oak and tapestry and the Duchess of Connaught and Princess Patsy preferred it to the official house.”[62]
Regular visits to Windsor, Osborne and Balmoral continued and the Queen found constant delight in Arthur’s ‘darling and lovely’ daughters.
By the time of Arthur’s wedding, Queen Victoria’s fourth and youngest son, Leopold, longed more than ever to find a wife and a life of his own. Princess Alice’s recent death had come as a great blow to her brother, who had spent many happy holidays in Darmstadt, becoming a particular favourite of his Hessian nieces. Haemophiliac himself, he had fully understood Alice’s concerns for her son, Frittie, and, after the little b
oy’s death, he had gloomily assured his sister that death was often preferable to a life that would bring nothing but suffering.
Leopold’s own childhood had been blighted as much by his mother’s near-neglect as by the agonizing effects of his illness. Although he was certainly the cleverest of her sons, Queen Victoria thought him the ‘ugliest and least pleasing child of the whole family…’ and there were times when she could hardly bear to look at him. When he was only five years old she complained to Vicky that he was clever but ‘an oddity’ and, as episodes of bleeding left him crippled, she found his bearing and his behaviour still more unattractive.
That Leopold was sometimes a badly-behaved little boy was largely the Queen’s own doing. While his family travelled around the country, he was often left in the care of governors and doctors, whose over-protective supervision made him rebellious and difficult. His father, who might have understood his frustration, died when he was only eight years old, and the Queen became too absorbed in her own grief to expend much energy on the ugly ducking in her nest.
In spite of his physical difficulties, however, Leopold’s intelligence was quickly becoming apparent. By the time he was fifteen, even his mother was aware of his abilities, and his tutors, recognising his considerable intellect, eventually succeeded in persuading her to allow him to attend university from where reports of his excellent progress convinced her that he was indeed a very gifted young man. So impressed was she by his achievements that, once his studies were complete, she took him into her confidence, allowing him access to government papers and relying on his advice in much the same way as she had once relied on the Prince Consort. While his elder brother, the Prince of Wales, remained firmly excluded from affairs of state, Leopold was even granted a much-coveted key to the Queen’s cabinet boxes.
Queen Victoria's Granddaughters 1860-1918 Page 8