The Widow of Windsor

by Jean Plaidy

  ‘He is coming because we are going to honour him. He is a Dane and people all over the world read his stories. We should be proud of such men. You must not forget that one day I shall be King and Fredy here will follow me. It is necessary to encourage people like Hans Christian Andersen and if we invite him here other people will ask him to their houses and it is a way of saying that we appreciate our men of genius.’

  The children were overawed and rather silent when the writer was introduced to them, but not for long, because he was quiet and unassuming – and perhaps a little overawed to be in the presence of the future King and his family. But he was soon put at ease by the simplicity of life in the Yellow Palace. There was something childlike about him which made for immediate understanding between himself and the children; and they were happiest when alone with him.

  He became a frequent visitor to the Yellow Palace and he would sit in the schoolroom or out of doors if the weather was good and tell them about the days when he was the son of a poor shoemaker. When he wrote a new story he would bring it along to read to the children and they would sit in a circle round him listening entranced.

  ‘It’s wonderful,’ said Alix to Dagmar, ‘that children all over the world are going to have these stories told to them.’

  Dagmar agreed that it was; and when Hans brought his stories in volume form to show them and inscribed a copy especially for them they were very excited.

  Christian and Louise looked on benignly at the friendship which had grown between their children and the story writer.

  So the days passed – days made enthralling by the storytelling of Hans, and amusing by the same occupation of King Frederick. And how different were those two story-tellers. The Little Mermaid had nothing in common with Uncle Frederick’s wild, military and equally fictitious adventures. Oddly enough, pointed out Alix, while Hans told his stories about people who only lived in his imagination you believed in them, but when Uncle Frederick told stories about himself you did not believe them for one instant.

  Such happy days they were. Going for walks along the promenade – the Lange Linie – watching the ships coming in to Copenhagen from all over the world, studying the fashions in the shops, coming home and copying them with just that difference which made them one’s very own; all the excitement of choosing material for a new dress and patterns and accessories, being very cautious that one kept within one’s allowance, taking care of the new dress, changing into something simpler when one came in. Countess Danner didn’t have half as much fun with her elaborate clothes, Alix pointed out to her sisters. And no wonder because they were sometimes very ugly – and it was gratifying that their cheap ones could look so much more elegant. Christmases, birthdays to look forward to and with two boys and three girls there was always some celebration about to burst upon them. There were gymnasium lessons with Papa, music and languages with Mama; other more mundane subjects with governesses.

  The summers at Rumpenheim with the cousins and aunts were becoming more and more interesting as they grew older. There were little dances for the family and the few friends from the neighbourhood who were invited; there were river picnics and trips to Frankfurt, and of course, animated and interesting conversation.

  Then Bernstorff – that beautiful castle – which it was thrilling to approach along the avenue of trees; it was a little like Rumpenheim but more comfortable in a way because it was the family home – and it had the advantage of being only ten miles from Copenhagen so one was not really cut off from that beloved city. At Bernstorff there was more of a holiday atmosphere than at the Yellow Palace, though Prince Christian insisted that they all rose very early in the morning – the best time of the day, he was fond of saying. They had coffee and rolls and then were out in the nearby woods walking, riding or playing with the dogs, of which there were many. Their father would come out of the palace when it was time for déjeuner and give a piercing whistle and when they heard it they must all leave what they were doing and run into the castle. His only real displeasure was if they were late. Then lessons would begin and after that perhaps a ride.

  They must not be late for dinner which was served at four in the afternoon. If it was a fine day they would be out in the garden again where coffee would be served, or if it were cold this would be taken round the fire. Then they would read together. The girls would do needlework or go and gather flowers and arrange them. Louise was very fond of flowers and her arrangements were exquisite. Alix and Dagmar and even little Thyra had to learn to arrange them. The scent of these flowers permeated the castle and as soon as any showed the slightest sign of decay it must be removed. Each of the girls had her own little domain, for which she was responsible, and Louise would inspect their arrangements and the fresh state of the flowers every day. She was determined that her family should be brought up in a manner suited to their state and the fact that they were poor was a challenge to her.

  Life was not entirely confined to the home either. There was regular attendance at the Lutheran church at Gjentofte and the villagers would gaze in awe at their future King and Queen with their good-looking family. The young people had to learn how to accept this homage with gracious diffidence which was neither indifferent nor patronising. In fact they must accept it as natural without seeming to be aware of it. Louise would drive into the village with gifts for the poor – which the family could ill afford; and then again they must exercise that peculiar royal behaviour which because their father was destined to be King and their mother Queen was necessary.

  And then … home to the best-loved place of all – though by no means the grandest – the dear Yellow Palace with its little rooms and winding passages which was Home.

  Who would have thought this happy life would not go on for ever.

  Louise was waiting impatiently for her husband’s return from the barracks. When reading the English papers which she did whenever possible to improve her knowledge of the language she had found something of great interest in The Times.

  The Prince of Wales was nearly seventeen, and as it was the custom of royalty to marry early, there was a great deal of speculation as to whom this very important young gentleman would choose for his bride.

  The article went on that the choice was somewhat limited for His Royal Highness. His bride would be the future Queen of England and therefore some qualifications would be demanded of her which might not be easy to supply. She must be young, for her main duty was to give the country heirs; she must be royal; and she must be Protestant. This narrowed the choice down considerably and the author of the article had, after great consideration, come to the conclusion that there were only seven candidates for the honour.

  Six of these were German princesses; the seventh on the list was Princess Alexandra of Denmark.

  Louise stared at the letters. Alix, Queen of England! Her common sense immediately rose to the fore. The seventh on the list. What hope had she!

  All the same it was something which she must discuss with Christian at once.

  When he came in and she was able to show him the article he was startled.

  ‘Our Alix! Why she’s only a child.’

  ‘She’s fourteen. Why in two or three years she’ll be ready.’

  ‘English Princes always marry Germans.’

  ‘A matter which I believe the English people resent.’

  ‘The English royal family is half German. Albert was most definitely. And Victoria is half so. Germans always have the first chance.’

  Christian was thinking of himself and how he had been overlooked for a Prince of Coburg.

  ‘It could change.’

  ‘My dear Louise, Alix is seventh on the list.’

  ‘Still she’s on the list.’

  ‘No, it would always be a German.’

  ‘Look at the list. These German Princesses … who are they? Daughters of small States. Whereas Alix is the daughter of a future King.’

  ‘You are prejudiced,’ said Christian with a laugh.

 
‘I’m also realistic,’ said Louise. ‘We are going to be prepared. Our children have not had an education worthy of them so far. All that has to be changed and we are going to change it.’

  ‘When?’ asked Christian.

  ‘At once,’ said Louise. ‘There’s no time to be lost.’

  Life had changed suddenly. It had become more serious. Bernstorff and the Yellow Palace appeared to be invaded by an army of teachers. They must spend more time at their lessons, said Louise. They were no longer children – at least Fredy, Willy and Alix weren’t and Dagmar was fast gaining their grown-up status.

  Louise always believed in explaining to the children. She herself had taught them music and drawing, but these were the necessary accomplishments of well-brought-up young ladies; they were scarcely lessons. They had had their Swiss governess, Mademoiselle Schwiedland. But now they had to be prepared for whatever role they might be called upon to play in later life.

  Pastor Theobold came to teach them German and Professor Petersen history and geography; there was a new music teacher because Louise thought that they should have professional tuition which she feared she did not give them. So Mr Siboni was engaged.

  But most important of all was Miss Knudsen, who came to teach English. Mathilde Knudsen was homely, kindly and quiet; she had been born in the West Indies and spoke English as a native of England. Alix’s conversations with Cousin Mary had been of great use to her and she found that she progressed rapidly under Miss Knudsen’s tuition. Her accent improved and although she occasionally used quaint expressions which made Miss Knudsen smile she was undoubtedly fluent.

  This seemed to be of the utmost importance for her parents were constantly asking her how she was progressing with her English and these constant enquiries made her aware that for some reason learning English so that she could write it with ease and speak it with a degree of fluency was more important than any of her other lessons.

  Miss Knudsen’s very special favourite was Alix – not the cleverest of the family, but without doubt the most beautiful; Dagmar was much quicker at her lessons and little Thyra was charming, but Alix, in Miss Knudsen’s opinion, was the flower of the family.

  They became great friends and Alix enjoyed walking out in Copenhagen or in the gardens of Bernstorff with her governess, chattering away in English all the time.

  Listening to her, her parents exchanged significant glances. Louise as usual was right. If by chance Alix became number one on that important list, owing to the foresight of her mother, she would be prepared.

  There was an addition to the family. A little brother was born and they called him Valdemar. There was great excitement about a new baby. The time had come for Fredy’s confirmation.

  ‘As there is so little difference between their ages and Alix is almost sixteen they might as well be confirmed together,’ said Louise.

  So it was arranged that this should be so; and preparations began. There had always been an emphasis on religious education in the household; and as Prince Christian liked his children to follow his example and read a chapter from the Bible every night before they went to sleep, Fredy and Alix were ready.

  As Fredy was in the line of succession the confirmation was a public occasion and King Frederick himself was present among the distinguished company which filled the Slots Kirken in Copenhagen on that October day. The dignity and good looks of the young pair excited the admiration of the spectators; and it was a solemn occasion, for in the Lutheran Church the confirmation ceremony meant that this was an end of childhood and that the responsibilities of adult life were now to be taken on.

  The King had wished the Countess Danner to attend and there was some consternation about this as she was not accepted as his legal wife; but the King must have his way and a place was provided for the Countess, who then declared that she had no wish to attend the ceremony, only to be asked to it; so embarrassment was spared. As soon as the ceremony was over King Frederick presented Fredy with a commission in his army and Alix with a medallion containing his portrait.

  When they returned to the Yellow Palace Louise took her daughter to a new room below that which she had shared with Dagmar. This had been prepared for her occupation, for her piano had been put in it and her bed was there.

  It was a symbol of growing up. She had a room of her own.

  She turned to Louise, who was standing beside her, and embraced her.

  ‘Oh, Mama, it’s wonderful.’

  ‘It means you are no longer a child, my dear.’

  Alix’s eyes were shining. ‘It’s wonderful … growing up,’ she said.

  A faint apprehension came into her mother’s eyes.

  ‘It’s as well to remember that it also has its responsibilities,’ she replied; and she was thinking of that list with Alix’s name at the bottom.

  Then Wally arrived in Denmark. She was in fact the Countess Walburga von Hohenthal; she was beautiful, cosmopolitan, vivacious and therefore very attractive. She had come to Copenhagen to marry the English diplomat, Mr Augustus Paget, and with the simple friendliness they showed to visitors Christian and Louise invited Walburga to the Yellow Palace.

  She told Louise that she had heard of her charming family and hoped that she would be allowed to meet the members of it. This was arranged and the young Countess was enchanted by the good looks and perfect manners of the young people. She was especially attracted to Alix and was very soon invited to Bernstorff where leading the simple country life, it was very easy to become quickly on familiar terms.

  Wally was so amusing. She had come from Berlin and the Court of the Crown Princess, who had been the Princess Royal and eldest daughter of the Queen of England.

  ‘Poor Vicky,’ confided Wally to Alix, ‘she had a very trying time when she arrived. First she was forced to ride through the streets in the freezing weather in the kind of dress one would wear in a heated ballroom and when she arrived at the schloss she found it gloomy and it was said to be haunted, and I really think her mother-in-law enjoyed putting her next to the haunted chamber.’

  ‘How dreadful!’

  ‘Vicky is very self-reliant. She is in fact brilliant. But she needed someone to confide in and she chose me. And when Augustus goes to England I shall go with him. We shall be received at Court of course, and I shall be summoned to Vicky’s formidable mama and even more formidable papa and a report demanded of me.’

  Wally was a little disrespectful but Alix enjoyed that. What fun to be able to laugh and have little jokes with someone as brilliant as Walpurga.

  What Walpurga did not divulge to Prince Christian and Princess Louise was that she had been asked to report on Alix. Her mistress, Vicky, was very anxious that a bride should be found for her brother, the Prince of Wales; and the fact was that she had actually made a journey through Germany to inspect the Princesses who appeared on the list above Alix’s name. She was very critical and had found something wrong with every one of them.

  It was Wally – eager to have a say in affairs – who reminded her of number seven.

  ‘Augustus writes to me from Denmark that Princess Alexandra is a real beauty,’ she had said, ‘very carefully brought up by her clever mama – accomplished, healthy and beautiful … in fact everything that your brother Bertie could desire.’

  Vicky’s father, the Prince Consort of England, who had loved his daughter devotedly (and Wally, who collected gossip, had heard that Queen Victoria had resented this affection between her husband and their eldest daughter and was jealous of it) had asked her help in choosing a husband for Bertie. He had the utmost confidence in her judgement and she was eager to justify this.

  So she said: ‘You are going to Denmark to get married. What an opportunity. You can let me know if these reports of Alexandra are correct.’

  It was a mission after Wally’s heart.

  She was soon writing back glowing reports of Alix – a lovely girl, unspoilt, very beautiful, not intellectual – which by all accounts would just suit Bertie – but accomp
lished and well educated. In fact in Wally’s opinion, Alix was the perfect wife for the Prince of Wales.

  It was time to set out for the annual visit to Rumpenheim. During the journey Alix and Dagmar speculated on who would be there this summer. They were both looking forward to the round of simple pleasures. Although Christian and Louise were well aware that feelers were being put out with regard to Alexandra’s virtues both parents were anxious that this should be kept from their daughter.

  ‘So many girls are told of brilliant prospects which don’t come to anything,’ said Christian. ‘I wouldn’t want Alix to be upset.’

  ‘It’s much better that she should be kept in ignorance of what’s afoot,’ agreed Louise. ‘But I’m not sure that it wouldn’t have been a good idea for you to take her to England.’

  ‘I’ll not have her paraded like a prize cow,’ declared Christian in the raised voice it was necessary to use to Louise, whose deafness had increased in the last years.

  ‘She would make a good impression.’

  ‘I’ve no doubt of it. I just say I won’t have her paraded.’

  Louise smiled at her husband. There was a great charm about him and this was accentuated by a certain innocence. When he came to the throne it could be for her to guide him.

  Nor was Alix the only member of the family about whom inquiries were being made. The charm of the girls had been discussed abroad; they were exceptionally good-looking and, what was more important, healthy. It was due to the outdoor life they had lived; and constant exercises had made them walk in a graceful fashion. Whenever they went to a theatre in Copenhagen which the King thought they should do now and then, they were always cheered by the people and it was said that the royal box with the Christian family in it was as great an attraction as what was going on on the stage.

  Now there was talk of a Russian marriage for Dagmar – the Tsarevitch, no less. With one daughter married to the ruler of England and another to that of Russia, Denmark’s position in the world would be far more significant than it was at this time.