The death of Prince Albert Victor dramatically altered the eligibility status of his younger brother, George. Now his wife would eventually assume what Queen Victoria had called ‘the greatest position there is’ and again the hunt was on for an appropriate bride. Reputedly more intelligent than his brother, George was popular with his cousins. Sophie thought him ‘such a dear & so awfully amusing,’ while in later years Marie Louise would describe him as:
“...one of the kindest and most generous men you can imagine. Under that rather gruff manner was the most considerate of hearts. He carried out in full the principle of not letting his right hand know what his left hand did. His generosity, unknown to the outside world, was perfectly wonderful.”[94]
But it was Marie Louise’s sister, Thora, who began an earnest quest to win his heart. Her mother, Lenchen, was determined that this time her daughter would not be overlooked and encouraged twenty-two-year-old Thora to make herself noticed. Hovering in George’s presence and offering him her photograph, the naïve princess succeeded only in incurring Aunt Alix’s ridicule. The Princess of Wales had still not forgiven Prince Christian’s part in the Schleswig-Holstein affair, and dismissed the possibility of his daughter marrying George, in a sarcastic letter to her son:
“So the Xtians have been following you about with their lovely Snipe! Well it will be a pleasure to expect that beauty as your bride – when may we expect the news? You see she is quite prepared to take you by storm already offering you her contrafeit (sic) in a frame.[”][95]
Even without the Princess of Wales’ acid comments, Thora had little hope of attracting the prince. George had already fallen under the spell of another cousin, five years her junior: Affie’s eldest daughter, Missy of Edinburgh.
During his naval days, George had often stayed with the Edinburghs at San Antonio in Malta where he and Missy had become great ‘chums.’ The young princess appreciated his friendship and enjoyed his company but his reserved manner was no match for her passionate nature. Nor was Missy’s mother, the Duchess of Edinburgh, enthralled by the prospect of her daughter as future Queen of England – a country she had come to despise. When George eventually summoned the courage to propose, Missy refused him.
Affronted and angry at the refusal, the Prince of Wales blamed Missy’s father for the outcome, while the Princess of Wales scathingly remarked that her Edinburgh niece was still a mere ‘baby, barely out of petticoats.’ Baby or not, within months, the seventeen-year-old princess announced her engagement to Ferdinand of Hohenzollern-Sigmaringen, the twenty-seven-year-old heir presumptive to the throne of Roumania[·].
The following year the problem of George’s marriage reached a happy conclusion. Since Eddy’s death, he had grown close to his late brother’s fiancée, May of Teck, and there seemed no reason why she should not transfer her affection from one brother to the next. There had been a precedent in royal circles: the Princess of Wales’ sister had once been engaged to the then Tsarevich, and, following his early demise, happily married his younger brother, the future Tsar Alexander III.
May was willing, but undemonstrative George, fearful perhaps of a second refusal, dithered until his sister, Louise, decided to take the matter in hand. In March 1893, she invited George and May to her home, Sheen Lodge in Richmond, in the hope that he would propose. Still he tarried until, thanks to Louise’s cajoling, he eventually dared to broach the subject with May, who instantly consented.
The wedding took place in July 1893. Nine of Queen Victoria’s granddaughters acted as bridesmaids: George’s sisters, Toria and Maud; the three younger Edinburgh girls, Ducky, Alexandra and Baby Bee; Daisy and Patsy Connaught; and six-year-old Ena of Battenberg. The ninth, with remarkable good grace in view of the snub she had received, was Thora of Schleswig-Holstein.
There were many at court who believed Thora to have been an excellent contender for ‘the highest position there is.’ Though she may not have been as pretty as some of her cousins or her younger sister, Marie Louise, her common sense and gentleness endeared her to all the family and there were some who believed she would have made an ideal bride for the future Tsar Nicholas.
But Thora was cautious when it came to choosing a husband. As far back as 1890, Aunt Vicky wished ‘someone nice’ could be found for her and, four years later, after the embarrassment of George’s rejection, suggested a minor German prince, Ernst of Hohenlohe-Langenburg, a grandson of Queen Victoria’s half-sister, Feodora. Nothing came of the plan and Ernst later married Thora’s cousin, Alexandra of Edinburgh. Almost a decade passed and no suitable candidate appeared. In 1899, there was a vague possibility of a match with a minor Catholic prince but, in spite of her advanced age, the twenty-seven-year-old princess was wary in view of the disparity between their religions.
Again, the plans came to nothing and Thora settled happily into a life of ‘blessed singleness’ devoting her attention to her brothers, her parents, her grandmother and her mother’s charitable causes. Far from being stifled in a loveless marriage, the intelligent and open-minded princess enjoyed her freedom and travelled widely, visiting her cousins in Germany and Russia. Her two brothers also remained single and, though both Christian Victor, who served in the British Army, and Albert who served in Germany, were often away on active duty the family remained very close.
Thora also enjoyed the company of her grandmother whom she saw almost daily as she and her mother followed the annual migrations between Osborne, Balmoral and Windsor. Living in such close proximity to the Queen, she was a regular participant in state dinners where, conversing with politicians and statesmen, she developed her own firm views about politics and world affairs, some of which brought her into conflict with her equally politically-minded mother.
Unlike Toria of Wales, Thora was content, justifying the Queen’s claim that single people were often far happier than married people, many of whom were enslaved in loveless relationships.
The Queen was speaking from experience: by the turn of the century she was convinced that several of her granddaughters were suffering such a fate.
Chapter 16 – All I Can Repeat Is That I Am Perfectly Happy.
Ella: Grand Duchess Serge of Russia; second daughter of Princess Alice
Serge: Grand Duke Serge Alexandrovich; Ella’s husband; younger brother of Tsar Alexander III.
Victoria: Ella’s sister; Princess Louis of Battenberg
When Victoria of Hesse married Louise Battenberg in April 1884, Queen Victoria had more on her mind than the aberration of the bride’s father and the unforeseen romance between Beatrice and Liko. Though, of course, she had been informed in advance, the announcement of Ella’s engagement to a Russian Grand Duke sent a shiver of terror down a fond grandmother’s spine.
Since her formal entry into society three years previously, nineteen-year-old Ella might have had her pick of several European princes. Renowned as one of the most beautiful women in Europe, word of her charm, intelligence and gentleness brought proposals from many quarters. While Cousin Willy was still smarting at her rebuttal, Prince Leopold entreated her father not to throw her away on a dull Scandinavian prince who was earnestly seeking her hand. Ella herself had turned down the son of the Duke of Manchester, and in 1883 Queen Victoria was mildly disappointed to hear that she had declined the proposal of her childhood friend, Fritz of Baden. The Queen’s disappointment turned to horror when she discovered that Ella had rejected him in favour of ‘a Russian!’
Apart from his great wealth, there was little to commend Grand Duke Serge Alexandrovich to the Queen. Not only was he a Russian and a Romanov – a younger brother of Tsar Alexander III – but his highly-strung nature and unyielding reactionary views had created many enemies in his native St. Petersburg. His natural reticence gave him a haughty air and the assassination of his father, Alexander II, had filled him with such a deep hatred of revolutionaries that he would mercilessly oppose any reform that might undermine the Romanov autocracy.
Nor was the Grand Duke’s appearance p
articularly appealing to a Queen. His niece, Ella’s cousin, Missy of Roumania, thought him strikingly handsome, but noticed, too, the coldness in his steely-grey eyes. The French Ambassador, Maurice Paléologue observed that his face was disagreeable, ‘distinguished by greyish-white eyebrows and a hard look.’[96] Tall and extremely thin, he accentuated his gaunt figure by wearing whalebone corsets that showed through his clothes.
As if that were not to disenchant the Queen, she might well have heard the more insidious rumours, emanating from St. Petersburg.
“Try as I will,” wrote his cousin Sandro Mikhailovich, “I cannot find a single redeeming feature in his character…obstinate, arrogant, disagreeable, he flaunted his many peculiarities in the face of the entire nation, providing the enemies of the regime with inexhaustible material for calumnies and libels.”[97]
Stories of his alleged peculiarities were to haunt the Grand Duke all his life. As a young man, his devotion to the officers of his beloved Preobrazhensky Regiment led to speculation that he was homosexual and his apparent reluctance to marry added further fuel to the rumours.
What, Queen Victoria wondered, could attract ‘dear lovely Ella’ to such an unpleasant man? It was true that Princess Alice had been fond of the shy little boy who, throughout Ella’s childhood, had often accompanied his consumptive mother on her recuperative visits to her native Hesse-Darmstadt. It was equally true that he was very different from the bombastic Willy, and Ella had responded with affection to his friendship; but now, surrounded by so many more sparkling suitors, the aloof Grand Duke seemed a most unlikely choice. He had made little impression upon Ella when he accompanied his mother on her final visit to Darmstadt in 1879, and she had even confessed to her sister that she found him rather boring. Yet, when he returned to Hesse after his father’s assassination, her opinion changed dramatically.
Perhaps it was his heartfelt sorrow at the loss of his father that convinced her that his brittle exterior concealed a more sensitive nature. Having lost her own mother, Ella empathised with his grief and, spending more time in his company, gradually came to realise that, in spite of their disparate political and religious opinions, they shared the same aesthetic interest in music and art, inspired by a deeply spiritual temperament.
Gossip spread quickly through the family and, by the time of Victoria’s engagement, word of Ella’s growing attachment to the Russian had reached a horrified Queen Victoria in Scotland. Summoning her granddaughter to Balmoral, the Queen earnestly attempted to dissuade her from the match. Princess Alice, she claimed, would never have wanted her daughter to marry a Russian. The vast Romanov wealth would ‘turn Ella’s head’; the country was unstable and St. Petersburg society, immoral. The thought that Ella might be led astray by the ‘unscrupulous’ Russians was more than the Queen could bear; and if that were not disconcerting enough, Ella need only think of the cold Russian climate, which that would ruin her health, as it had that of several German princesses including Serge’s own mother.
Chastened by the lecture and unwilling to distress her grandmother, Ella assured the Queen that she had no intention of marrying Serge and that she would ‘hate to live in Russia.’ She returned to Darmstadt in the early autumn determined to put him from her mind and when Serge proposed, she refused him. Though the Russians, including Serge’s sister, the Duchess of Edinburgh, considered the refusal an insult, the relieved Queen was filled with admiration for her granddaughter’s independence and strength of character. She had yet to discover quite how independent Ella could be.
Serge’s proposal had come at a time of great upheaval in Darmstadt. The New Palace was buzzing in preparation for Victoria’s wedding and her father was on the point of marrying Madame de Kolomine. Within a month of Ella’s departure from Scotland, the Queen was alarmed to hear that Serge had received a further invitation to Hesse and could only pray that, in his presence, Ella would not yield.
Her hopes were in vain. Whether it was the sense of romance in the air, or she had truly fallen in love, when Serge proposed for a second time Ella accepted him. It was left to Victoria to break the news to the Queen, before Ella dared pick up her pen to write to ‘dearest Grandmama’ with some trepidation:
“…I am afraid this letter will not give you as much pleasure as I should wish but as it concerns my happiness and you have always been so kind to me, I wish you to know what I think about Serge…though he may have opinions you do not like, do you not think, dear Grandmama, that I might do him good?
…I shall try to keep to the right path and will always keep those I love in my mind and follow their good example...I think I know what I’m doing and if I am unhappy, which I am sure I never will be, it will all be my doing, as you know. Please forgive me if you are vexed with what I shall do, and although I will have to begin a new life, I will always cling to those who have been dearer to me than I can say.”[98]
As Ella struggled to stand up in the numerous jewels which Serge lavished upon her at their engagement, Queen Victoria could only shake her head in despair.
Six weeks after Victoria’s wedding, the royalties migrated to St. Petersburg where, on 15th June 1884, Ella and Serge were married according to both the Lutheran and Orthodox rites in the chapel of the Winter Palace. Cousin Willy, having made tactful excuses for his absence, missed the beautiful spectacle of his first love, draped in Russian Court dress and the jewels of Catherine the Great, walking down the aisle ‘on the arm of haughty Sergei.’ Even so, the Prussians managed to use the celebrations to humiliate the Battenbergs. Still angered by Moretta’s attachment to Sandro, Bismarck whispered a word in Russian ears to ensure that during the wedding banquet Louis Battenberg was placed as far away as possible from the top table where his wife, Victoria, was seated near the bride.
After the wedding, the celebrations continued for a further ten days before Ella, now Grand Duchess Elizaveta Feodorovna, bade goodbye to her family. She and Serge travelled east for a honeymoon on his country estate, Ilinskoe, not far from Moscow, where her generosity and eagerness to learn everything about her new homeland quickly endeared her to the villagers. In the autumn, the couple returned to the magnificent Beloselsky-Belozersky Palace in St. Petersburg for the season, which ran from New Year’s Eve to the first day of Lent, and Ella threw herself into the social life of the capital, winning admiration in the ballrooms and receptions of the aristocracy.
The winter days were filled with skating parties, theatre visits and balls where, dripping in the jewels that Serge lavished upon her, she often disappeared partway through the evening only to re-emerge in an entirely new gown and another set of priceless gems.
“To please her husband,” wrote her lady-in-waiting, “she cultivated society, and society admired her. Radiantly beautiful she showed herself at balls, sparkling with jewels but on her calm brow, her vocation was already printed…”[99]
Devoted to her husband, popular at court and loved by the people, life appeared idyllic for the naïve Grand Duchess but, within months of her wedding, rumours began to surface, that would plague her for the next twenty years.
Marriage had done nothing to improve Serge’s reputation. On the contrary, Ella’s calmness and passivity contrasted so sharply with his shortness of temper and dictatorial manner that her very presence at his side seemed to highlight the flaws in his character. Observers, disgusted by the way he criticised and humiliated her in public, were convinced he must be still crueller when they were alone. It was said that he was so jealous that he spied on all her movements, refused to allow her to go out without his permission and that he even read all her letters.
While Ella could not deny that Serge made every decision affecting their lives – even to choosing her partners at balls – the rumours of his unkindness were greatly exaggerated and caused her far more pain than his supposedly cruel treatment of her; but, however vehemently she protested that she ‘adored’ her husband and was ‘perfectly happy’ in Russia, increasingly outlandish stories spread not only through Russia
but via the large family network to all the courts of Europe. Within six months of her marriage German newspapers were reporting that she was about to be divorced.
Queen Victoria was deeply troubled. She had dreaded this marriage from the start and now the rumours that she heard convinced her that her fears were well-founded. Ella’s letters repeatedly assured her that all was well but the protestations of happiness served only to increase the Queen’s doubts.
What was more, as the Queen could not fail to observe, there was evidence enough that something was awry in the marriage: many months had passed since the wedding yet Ella showed no sign of conceiving a child. In a family where children were as numerous ‘as the rabbits in Windsor Park’ her childlessness proved to Serge’s detractors that he was homosexual and had no interest in his wife. Increasingly salacious stories proliferated. Some claimed, without justification, that Ella refused to yield to Serge’s ‘unnatural’ perversions while others, more charitably but no less humiliatingly, believed that the shock of his father’s death had left him impotent.
It is possible that Ella was simply unable to have children. Since her adolescence, her grandmother had often commented on her frailty and, with her usual euphemistic references to her health, implied that as a young girl Ella suffered from gynaecological problems. Conversely, though Ella frequently went to great lengths to defend her husband, she never made any attempt to explain away her childlessness. It was not simply a matter of coyness – after all, her Aunt Louise, Queen Victoria’s fourth daughter, also remained childless but had openly sought a cure in various European spas. Other members of the family were equally candid in their correspondence with the Queen, who, for all her professed distaste for the subject, was unduly inquisitive about the married lives of her daughters and granddaughters. Ella’s refusal to discuss the matter seems simply to confirm what the gossips had surmised: due to some failing on Serge’s part, the marriage remained unconsummated.
Queen Victoria's Granddaughters 1860-1918 Page 15