The Making of a King

When their first son, Bertie, was born Queen Victoria and Prince Albert – both of whom were still so young – sought guidance about his upbringing from Prince Albert’s mentor Baron Stockmar. His advice couldn’t have been more detrimental to the poor Prince of Wales whose memories of childhood were so unhappy that as soon as he became King, he disposed of that great (and beautiful!) symbol of his childhood, Osborne House. As a boy Bertie could never please his parents. He just couldn’t fit their (or Stockmar’s) ideal of the perfect prince. Gauche, not studious or particularly academically intelligent, his natural talents for diplomacy and charm were so often overlooked. I adore Prince Albert and think that the one mistake of his life was his treatment – albeit well-intentioned – of the future King Edward VII. In later life, the perceived traumas of this strict regimen showed up in Bertie’s addictions to food, sex and gambling and anything else that brought him comfort. His life, however, was not a tragedy! He was well-liked, affable, had the common touch alongside great dignity and he was a great statesman and ambassador, though his reign was so brief.

Prince Albert and Queen Victoria wanted to raise the perfect prince.

Seeing the footage of Prince William in New Zealand today, I was over-awed by the thought that it took a few generations and far less strict regimen for that dream to
come into being. Prince William was amazing! One moment dressed in casual clothes, shaking hands with the crowds, crouching to have his photo taken with children, and chatting to them as freely as if they were old friends. When someone in the crowd called out, “I will see you in London on the 29th!” Prince William, with genuine delight replied, “You’re coming? You are all invited!!” The next minute, in a smart suit and a Maori ‘stole’ he was addressing the earthquake victims with a solemnity and wisdom that was so touching. He spoke of his grandmother and the advice she had given him – and who could fail to notice that he, having lost his mother at such a young age, understood grief - and his dignified references to Her Majesty also showed such respect for the Queen (as did the way he sang the National Anthem, ‘God Save the Queen’, with such gusto).

Kipling's wonderful lines immediately came to mind:

“If you can walk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings nor lose the common touch...”

If ever the British monarchy needed a lift when the scurrilous newspapers go in search of scandals, I am sure this young prince is the perfect person for the job. Not only would his mother be so proud of him, but also his great-great-great-great-grandparents, Prince Albert and Queen Victoria must surely be looking down at him and thinking, “Well, we got there in the end!”

Turi and other royal animals/angels

It is very touching that as, 110 years ago tomorrow, Queen Victoria was nearing her passing she asked to see her little dog. According to the report of her physician, Sir James Reid, on 21st January 1901, as she lay in bed at Osborne,

“...the Queen suddenly asked for her favourite little dog ‘Turi’ (Italian Spitz) but unfortunately he was out for exercise and not to be found. However, when he returned he was taken and put on the Queen’s bed, who patted him and seemed pleased to have him beside her.”
This was the day before Queen Victoria died and it is rather beautiful that Turi is mentioned so close to such a momentous historical occasion. Throughout her life, Queen Victoria’s animals had meant so much to her – and to other members of her family – that her letters are speckled with references to them: to Noble’s puppies, to Vicky’s cats at Potsdam, to the ostrich at Windsor, to Beatrice’s poor little dog who was killed by a carriage on the Isle of Wight. Animals were so close to the Queen’s heart that she openly supported the anti-vivisection league and clearly saw her beloved animals as members of the family. It is lovely that, alongside the mythical and family figures who, carved in stone and marble, adorn the corridors and gardens of Osborne, there are are also carvings of Prince Albert’s beloved greyhound, Eos, (who is pictured in the image here) and various other horses and dogs so beloved by the family.

Among the many accounts of the death of Queen Victoria, little mention is made of Turi’s presence and the comfort he brought her. He is rather overshadowed by the presence of Kaisers, Kings, Princes and Princesses...but it was Turi whom the Queen specifically asked for and I would love to know what happened to him afterwards. I hope he wasn’t like Caesar, Edward VII’s dog, who wandered desperately around Buckingham Palace searching for his master after his passing (but was happily given a leading role at the King’s funeral).

People remember the names of horses who carried war leaders into battle – the Duke of Wellington’s ‘Copenhagen’, and Napoleon’s ‘Marengo’ etc. etc. – it’s rather lovely to think of the other animals whose presence graced the lives of great people. Tsarevich Alexei’s spaniel ‘Joy’ and Mary, Queen of Scots’ terrier ‘Gedden’ accompanied their human companions to the death. More faithful than any servant, more comforting than any words offered by friends or family, these half-forgotten angels in animal form remained unflinching to the end and, unmoved by politics or the bickering that goes on between humans, deserve their place in history.

Little Turi deserves his place in history, too, and I am glad his name is recorded.

Echoes of Voices

As startling as old film footage of people whom we admire from the past and suddenly glimpse for a moment, is the sound of old voice recordings. To quote, yet again, L.P. Hartley’s famous line, “the past is a foreign country...”, it often seems, on hearing original recordings that they even spoke a different language. The sounds of words were melodic and so different from how we speak today and, as someone who loves words, I find this so fascinating and listening to their voices is like eavesdropping in on a conversation or hearing an echo.

We have all heard the clipped tones of the broadcasters of the earliest BBC and Pathe news recordings and I used to think it was something to do with the recording equipment that made the accents sound so different from anything we hear now but now, having heard many more recordings, I think people really did speak differently even 100 years ago. Listening to this recording of Virginia Woolf, for example (rather like listening to the charming voice of Princess Alice of Athlone, to which someone kindly sent a link some post ago) it’s obvious that a voice/accent like this would not be heard today. The ‘a’ pronounced as ‘e’, (to say ‘a man’, you must say ‘a men’) the elongated vowels...how to describe it!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GKwQ8kBMuJw

The Yorkshire accent is so different from this. We say castle not carsel, and bath, nor barth, but even audios of northerners from the past (not parst!) sound so different from how we speak today. The accent is more exaggerated – filled with expressions that no one really uses anymore and so much more pronounced than it is nowadays. It used to be – until very recently and well within my lifetime – a rather embarrassing thing to have a northern accent if you wanted to make anything of your life among southerners! Nothing but the standard southern accent was permitted on the BBC for many years....and it initially seemed strange to hear more familiar accents in newscasters’ voices. Nowadays it is all so different. Even Prince William speaks in such a different accent/tone from that of the Queen – perhaps because he has spent more time among people from different areas, or perhaps because the language is evolving so rapidly. I once read, though cannot vouch for the truth of it, that the American accent is very close to how people spoke in Elizabethan England and so the American pronunciation of Shakespeare is far closer to the original than anything produced by the R.S.C.

I actually believe that if we were all to travel back a hundred years, the accents and intonation around us would sound very different from what we hear today and would be very interested to learn of the development of the same phenomenon in other countries. I wonder what it would be like to hear Queen Victoria speak or to hear King Edward VII speak...in an ordinary room, without recording equipment. Did Hitler really sound so stark and mad? Did people really speak to one another in the clipped tones of those old recordings? How did Tsar Nicholas’ voice sound to the ear? What was the tone of Franz Ferdinand’s voice?...

Out of all the people I love from the past, the only voice I can really imagine is that of Prince Albert with his soft Coburg accent....

Morganatic Marriages and Bloodlines

It is near impossible nowadays to understand the concept of a morganatic marriage – a marriage between people of different social ranks wherein the person of the lower social rank (almost invariably the wife) and any subsequent children are not eligible to share the titles or ranks of the person of higher rank. Usually the ‘inferior’ wife was given some other meaningless title, which accounts for so many obscure German and Russian titles – Princess of Battenberg, Princess von Hanau, Countess Carlow, etc. etc. The closest thing we have to it today is the title of Camilla, wife of the Prince of Wales, yet titled – for various reasons – Duchess of Cornwall. In Britain there have never been morganatic marriages – as Queen Victoria, who couldn’t understand the idea at all, wrote so simply, “Either people are married or they are not.”

The purpose of this bizarre state of affairs was to preserve the noble blood of great dynasties. I cannot imagine how anyone conceived the idea that royal blood is different from other blood and it would taint a dynasty to have a commoner’s blood thrown into the mix but the irony of the outcome of such ideas is so tragically apparent. It was a disease of the blood – the noble blood - haemophilia, which caused such havoc and agony in many royal houses; the attempt to preserve the bloodline in Austria led to so many marriages between double first cousins that the children suffered enormously, both physically and mentally; and there was also, throughout the 19th and early 20th century, a vast amount of royal blood spilled from the murder of Carlos of Portugal, through to the shooting of Archduke Franz Ferdinand
and the murder of the Russian Imperial Family. Royal blood flowed, too, on the battlefields of the First World War – the nephews of the Kaiser were killed alongside the cousin of George V of Britain and cousin of Tsar Nicholas II, and in the midst of battle it can hardly have been any less horrific for a prince than for an average ‘Tommy’.

I cannot imagine how stifling and how utterly nonsensical it must have felt to have been a prince or princess for whom the choice of a marriage partner was based primarily on dynastic considerations, with some strange idea that this would preserve some kind of superiority. I can imagine, though, how someone like the very intelligent Franz Ferdinand felt when the woman whom he loved devotedly was constantly humiliated because of her ‘inferior’ blood. He had seen Crown Prince Rudolf slide into a life of utter decadence due to the stifling of the Court; and had seen Rudolf’s mother drift deeper and deeper into depression for the same reason. Franz Ferdinand loved Sophie. In the Court and in the world at large he was seen as brusque and unsociable, but at home he loved his children, loved his wife deeply and it is small wonder that in such circumstances he despised the coterie of snobs who stood between him and his uncle, Emperor Franz Josef. Forty or so years earlier in England, Prince Albert wrote of the need to bring new, stronger blood into the dynasty. I think, perhaps, he and Franz Ferdinand (a man whom admire more, the more I learn about him – except for his mass-slaughter of animals) would have had some brilliant conversations had they been around at the same time, and between them might have brought about a great deal of good.

The whole notion of blood seems to go back to Biblical times when the Hebrews were wandering in the desert and discovered that the blood of certain animals made them ill or even earlier when Greek and Roman doctors believed blood was something mystical. There remained a superstitious view of it for so many years that even today we speak of ‘blue blood’ – a rather apt idea considering the presence of porphyria in some dynasties - and ‘full-bloodied’.

I am glad that, for all our faults, we never entertained the notion of morganatic marriages in Britain.

Shells of Souls

Getting out of the car at a supermarket today, I saw, very close to my foot, a perfect ‘shell’ of a squirrel. He lay on his side, quite dead, in a place where, until a couple of days ago, there had been a mound of snow. He looked like a young squirrel – not our original native red squirrels which are so rarely seen nowadays, but a grey one (an American variety!) with unusually white fur across his chest.
I felt sad to think perhaps he had frozen to death in that mound of snow, for there was nothing about him that suggested he had been attacked and he looked very young. I walk often in the woods and see countless lively squirrels but have never ever seen a dead one, so it seemed odd that this little one should be lying there like litter in the supermarket car park. The most striking thing, though, was – and please forgive me if this sounds macabre – that shell-like look that all bodies have when Life has moved on from them. I was a nurse for a while and, being around the ‘dying’ (I write it in inverted commas because ‘dying’ sounds so final and that, I am sure, is not so) there was always such a noticeable time when a hush fell over the ward, and such a sense of awe at the moment when someone seemed to move out of their body and all that was left was a shell.

This is the anniversary of Queen Victoria’s ‘dreadful 14th’ – the day on which her husband, Prince Albert and, seventeen years later, her daughter, Princess Alice, left this life. One snowy night, around this time of year, when carols were playing on a hospital ward, I held the hand of someone else, who will probably not be remembered by anyone since this person was neither a prince nor a princess and had no family as far as we knew, as they passed on. I hardly knew this person except in their most intimate moment of death. It was late on a dark December evening, just before Christmas. The ‘patient’ had been moved to a side room, the ward was quiet and so I went to sit with this person. I was tired, didn’t really want to be there and hated working nights but my head was filled with the carols I had been hearing, “where charity stands watching, and faith holds wide the door..” and this person sighed deeply and was gone, “the dark night breaks, the morning wakes and Christmas comes once more...” That little, stark side room in a hospital, which was once a workhouse and is filled with the energy of so much death and darkness, suddenly seemed joyful. I saw the body – the shell of the soul of that person whose hand I had been holding, while feeling so dark and tired and sleepy and sad, and suddenly I wanted to dance. It seemed like all the sad stuff we hang around death is so meaningless because it’s no different from shells on beaches or fallen leaves in autumn.

There was always, in my experience, great respect shown to dead bodies by nurses and porters. In laying out a body, all the nurses I knew spoke to it, treated it with respect as though there person still inhabited it. (Newspapers make out nowadays that nurses are careless of the elderly but that was never my experience as a nurse). So, we did what needed to be done with this person’s body and my colleague was speaking to it as though the person was still there. To me it was nothing but a shell, but, after years of believing in a vague heaven, in that moment and ever since, I would stake my life on the certainty of eternal life and the very real reality of heaven being closer than we know.


On the terrible 14th – ‘dear, angel Albert’ (oh, sigh, what a beautiful man!) and ‘dearest Alice’ – how significant that Alice shares her anniversary with her beloved father, and I have no doubt whatsoever that he came to lead her on when her final words were, “Dear Papa...”
Gosh! What light she must have experienced!

Thinking of Prince Albert, Tennyson's brilliant poem comes to mind:


"Lives of great men all remind us,
We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us,
Footprints in the sands of time."

Prince Albert, I think, more than any other person of the time, changed for the better the face of the British monarchy and the face of Britain itself...

It also happens to be the feast day of John of the Cross and I came across one of his very beautiful poem, which seems so appropriate for Prince Albert and Princess Alice today, and posted it here: http://hilliardandcroft.blogspot.com/(Since the snow looks set to return tomorrow, I’d be interested to hear any advice on whether we can feed squirrels or what we should leave out for them. So much has been written about the best things to do for hedgehogs but little about squirrels. Are they best left to themselves?)

Albert Cottage and other Hotels

Sometimes, when things have been stressful or challenging or seasons change so quickly that you find you've missed out on summer, I think there are few things more invigorating than browsing a kind of mental photo album of favourite scenes, people and places. My first port of call in such circumstances is always the view across the Solent from Osborne House, or the gardens around the Swiss Cottage. Only 2 minutes of thinking of that image and everything else, no matter how difficult it had appeared, seems to become quite simple and beautifully easily resolved.

While thinking of 'dear Osborne' a few days ago, quite by chance I came across this website of a hotel and must hasten to add that I have no connection with the hotel nor have I ever stayed there yet, but it sounded wonderful to think it is now possible to stay actually within the grounds of Osborne and in a place so connected to Prince Albert. What a delightful thought...to stay in a place so closely connected to the family!

http://www.albertcottagehotel.com/

Some years ago, I and my business partner began compiling a collection of hotels around Britain which are in some way connected with Queen Victoria's family, and which now accommodate the public. A lot of work has been done on that project and many hotel owners have been exceptionally helpful but circumstances left the project on hold for a little while. I hope to take it further soon and would be very happy to hear from any hoteliers or publicans who have stories to tell about visits from Queen Victoria and her family or other European royalties. So many former stately homes have become hotels and while, in some ways, it seems like the passing of an era, in other ways it is just wonderful to think that now so many brilliant people have restored places to their former glory and so many aficionados of people of the past can actually stay in places they once loved.

More Contradictions of Queen Victoria

Yet another contradictory trait in the endlessly fascinating character of Queen Victoria is her attitude to 'women's rights'. When told of the aristocratic ladies who wanted female suffrage, Queen Victoria was outraged by the idea and wrote: "I am most anxious to enlist everyone who can speak or write to join in checking this mad, wicked folly of 'Women's Rights', with all its attendant horrors, on which her poor feeble sex is bent, forgetting every sense of womanly feelings and propriety. Feminists ought to get a good whipping. Were woman to 'unsex' themselves by claiming equality with men, they would become the most hateful, heathen and disgusting of beings and would surely perish without male protection." This was a woman who commanded the attention of so much of the globe that even today there are countless cities, rivers, bridges, districts and roads named after her. This, too, was a woman who appeared to have one rule for herself and another for society in general.

It was typical of the time that a princess had rather a worse fate than an average factory worker. The latter could, at least, choose whom she would marry and would usually remain among familiar surroundings and friends. A princess, on the other hand, had to go wherever her husband happened to be. Two of Queen Victoria's five daughters moved, at an early age, to Germany to be with their husbands. The next generation saw an even greater upheaval where her granddaughters moved to Sweden, Russia, Denmark, Spain, Roumania and Germany and each of them had to fit in - often with intense suffering and nostalgia - to the Courts of their husbands. Yet, Queen Victoria herself wrote the above passage from a place wherein she had not only wrenched her own husband from all that was familiar, but had also ensured that when it came to her own life, she kept her youngest daughters close at hand.

Louise, her fourth daughter, was 'allowed' to marry a Scottish earl while Lenchen, her third daughter, and Beatrice, her youngest, married more or less penniless German princes who were all but obliged to remain close to the Queen so that she could keep her brood together. Sadly, though Prince Christian (Lenchen's husband) seemed to thrive, 'Liko' (Prince Henry of Battenberg, husband of ultra-controlled Beatrice, sought every means of escape and died an unheroic death during the Ashanti Campaign).

One of the most fascinating details of the Victorian Age is the amount of contradiction within it, all of which is a sure reflection of the woman who occupied the throne. This was an age of prudishness, where even piano legs were covered to preserve decency, yet an age of decadence and mass prostitution. This was an age of civility - of house parties, country houses, beauty and culture, of Tennyson and Elgar and Rossetti alongside the Brontes and Dickens - and an age of destruction of the individual in favour of the 'system'. The age of industry and the brilliance that came from that....at the expense of the individual, when people were no longer someone known and accepted in the village, but rather a mere cog in the progress machine. It was an age of elegance, the swansong of beautiful Prince Albert's dream of what it meant to be beautiful; the age of follies and mock-Gothic castles built on the sweat of those who were happy to slave-labour for bringing forth a new age by those who dreamed of a more enlightened time.

And on top of it all sat a tiny woman - Queen Victoria - trying to come to terms with the changing times. Kaiser Wilhelm, at the outbreak of WW1, said that such a terrible thing could never have happened in his grandmother's time. She must have been one incredibly brilliant being to have been able to span the gap between the old world and the new and. had Prince Albert lived, how different the 20th Century ,might have been....

The Loveliest Stories of Love

As St. Valentine's day is nearly upon us, here are just a few of the great romances of the royalties of the recent past.

Queen Victoria and Prince Albert had, undoubtedly, one of the most romantic marriages! She adored him from the moment he arrived in England and, in spite of her youthful petulance, came to appreciate his many, many talents. It was a stormy and passionate relationship - at first, at least! - but in time, the Queen mellowed and learned to appreciate the lovely nobility and brilliance of this most remarkable prince. They sent each other erotic paintings and statues; they shared a deep love of their family and, with Albert, Queen Victoria was anything but the dull prude who appears through the dour statues in most of our cities. Prince Albert's tragic death at only forty-two led to her years in seclusion and the notions of her being a prude but they remain together forever in the British psyche in such things as the "V & A Museum", their memorials and the countless places named after them.


Vicky, Queen Victoria's eldest daughter, married at such an early age, a man whom she adored and who was equally enamored of her. Vicky and Fritz were totally devoted to one another and their tragedy was, yet again, that Fritz died far too soon! Had he lived, the whole course of European history might have been very different.


Franz Ferdinand and Sophie - a doomed love! A mere lady-in-waiting, Sophie was deemed unworthy of a Habsburg Archduke and heir to the throne but Franz Ferdinand was willing to sacrifice everything for her. A man who was seen as hot-tempered and unlikeable, he was devoted to his family and adored his wife. He wrote that the most sensible thing he ever did was to marry the woman he loved. It is a tragedy that they were both murdered on one of their first public appearances together (on their 14th wedding anniversary) but on the other hand, it seems fitting they they left this life side-by-side.


And, of course, another devoted couple who were murdered together - Alix and Nicholas. It is unthinkable that they could have left this world separately. Theirs was a marriage of two souls in harmony and, despite the many tragedies of their life in Russia, nothing ever shook, and nothing will ever shake, their devotion to one another.

Happy St. Valentine's Day!

Queen Victoria's Family in Winter

Oh, what a pity I missed posting this before Christmas! Still, it is as snowy as the photo so maybe it's not too late...

It comes from the 1991 series "Victoria & Albert" and I think it captures the family and dear Prince Albert's relationship with his children better than any other portrayal of their lives:

Queen Victoria's Family in the winter

Passion

About depths of feeling, it's so clear that so much of what passes for 'passion' nowadays misses the mark completely. There was a time in film and music where much was left hidden and had an air of mystery about it. Nowadays 'anything goes' but it isn't passion and lacks depth. Most fascinating of all is the fact that the some of the people who are often described as 'cold' or viewed as remote are often those with the greatest depths of passion and feeling.

To cite but 3 examples: Prince Albert, Grand Duchess Elizabeth and Emily Bronte. Apart from being the love of Queen Victoria's life, Prince Albert is often seen as the epitome of Victorian coldness, yet here was a man who inspired not only the love of so passionate a woman, but also wrote music and painted with such depths of feeling. He died at only 42 and I think that had a lot to do with the power of his unexpressed feelings. Being the child of an unhappy marriage, he learned to hide his feelings at an early age but, looking at his art, his music, his social conscience, his devotion to his family, he was one of the most intensely passionate men ever to have lived.

Because she didn't have children and was married to someone who is often maligned, Grand Duchess Elizabeth is also often described as 'cold'. Her letters - filled with exclamation marks and dramatic expressions of endearment and passion - reveal a very different personality! Emily Bronte, because she longed always to be alone, is seen as another 'cold' person and yet she wrote the most passionate novel, and still more the most wonderful poetry of her century.

In an age where blatant and rather boring displays of short-lived sexuality passes for passion, it's small wonder that such people who were so 'whole' in their passion are dismissed as 'cold'. But, as Wordsworth rather clumsily wrote: "To me, the meanest flower the blows can give thoughts that lie too deep for human tears..." I often think that those with the deepest sensitivities, do not wear their hearts on their sleeves because they know that it would not be understood in a rather dispassionate world.

Perhaps it's not that people no longer have these sensibilities - it's that the most powerful feelings are frightening to most people and those who feel them most deeply feel it is better to remain silent about them.

Prince Albert's First 'Family' Christmas.

The image of Prince Albert and Queen Victoria's family at Christmas is one of the most enduring and inspires that nostalgia for the 'Victorian Christmas'. This excerpt from the wonderful book: "King Without a Crown" by Daphne Bennett, describes their first Christmas as parents. Princess Vicky (the future Empress Frederick) was just one month old:

"Driving to Windsor for Christmas, Albert refused to entrust his child to anyone, but held her on his own knee. With the radiant Queen by his side, he was filled with 'quiet satisfaction' (a favourite expression to denote extreme happiness) that Providence had been so good to him.This year his 'dear festival time' held a special meaning - he was now the father of a family. This meant three present tables...the Queen's, magnificently decorated by Albert himself with a huge arch of laurel and multi-coloured chrysanthemums, entwined to form her initials, which made her speechless with delight. An extra surprise was the enormous tree, gay with candles and decoration, which he had had sent from Germany."

A Very English King

Edward VII. (Part One)


Blue-eyed and blonde-haired, young Prince Albert Edward impressed everyone with his sweet nature, except his parents. Queen Victoria and her consort, Prince Albert, were disappointed in the young Prince because they didn’t think that he was as clever as their favourite, his elder sister, Princess Vicky.

They subjected the little boy to a vigorous and strict school-room regime and kept him away from other boys in case he was exposed to bad influences. The young Prince lacked playmates and was teased rather mercilessly by his elder sister. It was no wonder that he was given to frequent rages and his parents found him hard to control.

Even Baron Stockmar, who had advised this extreme method of education, thought that the routine was too rigorous for the young boy and felt sorry for him. However, the Queen and Albert were determined. They didn’t realise that the young Prince’s talents lay in diplomacy and charm. One of his tutors, Henry Birch, praised the Prince’s ‘very good memory, very singular powers of observation.’

Edward also preferred outdoor pursuits, such as shooting and riding to his studies. He was not one for reading but this didn’t affect his capacity to work when he became King. Queen Victoria, eventually realised that she’d underestimated her son but this took many years.

The Affair with Nellie

Edward studied at the universities of Oxford and Edinburgh but his parents were not pleased with his progress. They thought that he spent too much time enjoying hunting and rich food instead of concentrating on his work. They were to be even more disappointed in him.

When the young Prince trained with the Grenadier Guards his fellow officers discovered his lack of experience with women. They sneaked the pretty actress, Nellie Clifden, into his room to surprise him. Edward was delighted with Nellie and she became his mistress. The problem was that Nellie began boasting about the affair.

Queen Victoria and Albert were outraged. It was not only his lack of morals that caused them concern. Princess Vicky had found a good match for Edward – the Danish Princess Alexandra. His parents were worried that his affair could affect the planned romance.

Prince Albert died of typhoid shortly after the affair. The Queen was so upset that she blamed Edward for causing his death. It would take some time before she forgave him.

Princess Alexandra

Luckily Princess Alexandra was still available. The Prince had met her before but he wasn’t that impressed because he preferred Nelly. After his father’s death he felt very contrite and he thought about the beautiful Danish Princess more and more.

Queen Victoria was very impressed with the young woman and the Prince eventually proposed. The young couple were in love and the Queen thought that their marriage would be happy.

Princess Alexandra soon became disillusioned with her husband, however. Her deafness tended to isolate her and probably annoyed Edward. She also had a succession of pregnancies and Edward started mixing with a fast set who liked shooting, hunting and women.

He became involved in many scandals, which annoyed Queen Victoria and his wife.
This included the Mordaunt scandal in which Edward was accused of being the father of Lady Harriet Mordaunt’s child. Many of his letters to her were read in court. These were quite innocent but Edward also denied any impropriety. Lady Harriet was declared insane shortly afterwards.

Edward’s many mistresses included the beautiful actress, .Lily Langtry and Daisy Brooke. He also had a long affair with Alice Keppel.

Prince Albert and Princess Alice

In loving memory of beautiful Prince Albert who died on 14th December 1861 aged only 42. In his relatively short life he had achieved so much - a great artist, composer and musician, he restored the tarnished image of the monarchy in Britain and was passionate about the welfare of the people. Far-sighted in ensuring an excellent education for his daughters as well as his sons, he was a deeply loving father and a true role model...and incredibly handsome too!!



And in loving memory of his daughter, Princess Alice, who, after wearing herself out caring for her family and the people of Hesse, died aged only 35 on 14th December 1878. Like her father, Alice had a profound social conscience and a deep, questioning spirituality. It is significant and beautiful that her last words were, "Dear Papa..."

The English Empress

I am going to write a series about Queen Victoria's children. We will start with her eldest, Princess Vicky. I hope that you enjoy this series. Comments are welcome.



The English Empress

Pope Pius IX told the English representative in Rome, Lord Odo Russell, that “he was an old man, but in the whole course of his long life he had never been more favourably impressed by anyone than by her Royal Highness the Crown Princess of Prussia.” He was not the only one that Princess Vicky impressed, but unfortunately forces were against the ‘uncommon woman’ as Hannah Pakula called her and she led a tragic life.

Queen Victoria’s eldest child, little Princess Vicky startled her parents with her cleverness. She was Prince Albert’s delight and he loved to discuss his liberal beliefs and many different topics with the young princess. Queen Victoria got a little jealous at times of Prince Albert’s liking for this amazing daughter.

Vicky’s parents were keen to arrange a match for her to the German Prince, Frederick, for various reasons. He met her when she was only ten and he was much older. He was pleased when the princess spoke to him in fluent German. The Queen and Prince Albert liked this young man very much and hoped that the couple would fall in love later.

Vicky and Fritz did fall in love later and she married the handsome prince when she was only seventeen. Her parents were sorry to see her go to Germany and thought that she was very young to get married, but they also thought that the match was a very happy one. They were right and the couple did have a long and happy marriage.

The palace that the couple lived in was cold, draughty, old-fashioned, and without amenities. Queen Victoria liked new technologies and gadgets – she was one of the first to install bathrooms and tap-water. Princess Vicky was used to greater comforts and made her opinions known. She was inclined to say that ‘things were better in England.’ This didn’t go over well.

This discomfort was the least of the English princess’s troubles. Fritz shared her liberal philosophies but most of his family believed in autocracy. They were also used to fairly meek women and found the princess too clever. Vicky was shocked that most German women she met didn’t read the papers and had no interest in current events. She found them very ‘unenlightened’ compared with the English women that she was used to. The Prussian elite and Vicky’s in-laws were against ‘the English woman’ from the start.

Fritz was unfortunately rather weak compared with Vicky. His father became King William 1 in 1861 and preferred conservative and autocratic policies, even though many had hoped that he might be a more liberal King than his father. Vicky urged Fritz to stand up to his father but Fritz was very loyal and obedient so he found this difficult.

The Abdication Crisis
Soon after Vicky’s father died in 1861, an abdication crisis occurred. William couldn’t get his military reforms approved by the Landtag and he threatened to abdicate. He offered his son the throne but Fritz thought that his father looked like a “poor, broken old man” and that abdicating over a decision of parliament would set a dangerous precedent.

Vicky had other ideas. She wrote to Fritz that ‘he should make this sacrifice for his country’ and that if he didn’t, “I believe that you will regret it one day.” If the Crown Prince had become King then the course of history may well have changed.

Bismarck

The ambitious Otto van Bismarck, who believed in ruling by ‘blood and iron’, was appointed Prime Minister in 1862. Conservative and militaristic, he disliked Vicky and he disagreed with the couple’s liberal philosophies. He persecuted and defamed both of them almost until their deaths.

When Bismarck was appointed Prime Minister, a leader of the liberal Progressive Party “claimed that he would lead Prussia into ‘government without budget, rule by the sword in home affairs, and war in foreign affairs.’ The man was right on every count.” 1.

Soon after Princess Vicky’s beloved father died, Kaiser William 1, Frederick’s father, suppressed the freedom of the press. Frederick bravely made a speech in favour of the press but this was really the only time that he succeeded in standing up to his father who was ruled by Bismarck and the military.

Bismarck led Prussia into three wars – against Demark, Austria and France. The war with Denmark over the territories of Schleswig and Holstein greatly upset Princess Alexandra, Vicky’s sister-in-law, who came from Denmark, and caused trouble between the families.

Frederick fought in most of the wars and commanded one of Prussia’s three armies in the war against Austria. He received the Order of Merit for his leadership and gallantry in the Battle of Königgrätz. Frederick’s men loved and admired him, according to Hannah Pakula.

Vicky established hospitals, nursed the wounded herself, and devoted herself to charity work. She was much admired by the ordinary people but Bismarck and the Prussian elite always regarded her with suspicion and spread scandal about her.



Bismarck has been credited with the unification of Germany but Vicky thought that Fritz did far more work on this and his role was not recognized. Many historians agree with her but others think that Bismarck was largely responsible for the unification.




Frederick’s Reign
Frederick became King Frederick III after his father, William, died at 90 years old in 1888. Unfortunately, he was suffering from a terrible cancer of the larynx and endured mistreatment by his doctors. He only reigned for three months which wasn’t enough time to put his plans for constitutional reform into effect.

Vicky had had a tragic life. She suffered great grief when her sons, Sigismund and Waldemar died. Now she had to endure the death of her husband and the loss of her great hopes for her reign as well.

After Frederick’s DeathAfter Frederick’s death Vicky lived in Castle Freidrichshof near Kronberg and devoted herself to her charity work and furthering the cause of education for women by founding schools.

She knew that her son, now the Kaiser, had been brainwashed against her by the Prussian military and Bismarck, so she ensured that her letters to Queen Victoria were smuggled out of Germany to England by Edward VII’s private secretary, Frederick Ponsonby. Indeed, William II did have Vicky’s residence searched for her documents.

Vicky died of breast cancer in 1901 at only sixty years of age. She was a brave and strong woman who devoted herself to changing her adopted country for the better.


1. Pakula, Hannah, An Uncommon Woman, Weidenfeld & Nicolson, London, 1996.

Heroes

I know an elderly woman who dislikes most people she meets but the moment that they pass from this life, she turns them into saints and won't hear a bad word spoken of them. In some ways she resembles Queen Victoria, I think. Although she adored Prince Albert, Queen Victoria made much of his life so difficult by her mood-swings and criticism and her own neediness. The same is true of her daughter, Alice, who - because she had criticised John Brown - Queen Victoria described to relatives all over Europe as having 'too high an opinion of herself', but the moment she died, she was suddenly a perfect example of humility!

How odd people are in their worship of those who are no longer physically here, and how quickly someone who was vilified in life can be turned into a saint once they have passed on! It's fascinating how many so-called 'saints' were hounded by bishops during their lifetime, and only later the good they did was recognized. John of the Cross, for example, was imprisoned - I believe - by the Church. Julie Billiart was constantly criticised by bishops; Bernadette of Lourdes was all but banished to her convent to keep her out of the way (and typically thought suffering was the only way to heaven, so died young). Jesus was crucified by the Church authorities.

I wonder why it is that people are so drawn to messages only after someone is no longer here to expound their message further?? Is it because it is too challenging to face when they are still here? It's safer and easier to create the image in our own likeness when there is no possibility of that false image being challenged?

In my opinion, heroes are never really heroes - they are all the products of our own image of what we would like to be and believe about all that is finest in ourselves. Dead heroes don't challenge that so it's easier to enshrine them and fit them into boxes. Truth be told, there are thousands of heroes - people who have lived out their lives according to their own lights, and bringing more joy and wonder into the world. The heroes established by 'history' - which often means by the government of the day - are seldom any more or less than the small child walking past their monument, doing whatever we do to get by, to improve our understanding, to be who we really are, unswayed by the need to fit in or fit someone else's mould of how we should live.

I like statues of heroes (and England is littered with them!), and what is most interesting, is scraping the surface to find, underneath, a person who is no different from all the everyday people we pass and talk to as we go about our daily business. We don't have to be dead to be heroes. We just have to be our true selves.

Prince Albert's Unexpressed Sorrow

Considering the effects of our thoughts and emotions on our bodies (one need only think of blushing or having butterflies in the stomach), it's small wonder that long unexpressed emotions have long term effects on health.
As a child, dear, lovely Prince Albert was, according to his biographer, Daphne Bennet, known for his docility and yet his letters reveal the extent of his inner anguish, particularly in relation to the sudden 'disappearance' of his poor mother - banished by her husband for having an affair (regardless of the fact that he had many mistresses). Albert's mother had lavished affection on him, and departed so swiftly from his life when he was so young - only 5 years old. His feelings about that remained unexpressed and surely clouded the whole of his life. What's more, he was a sensitive boy - a musician and artist - growing up with a gruff 'macho' father and brother.
Perhaps it was for this reason that Albert had such a horror of infidelity and, unlike most princes of the day who would have thought nothing of their sons taking mistresses, was shocked to the core when the Prince of Wales had a fling with an actress. Perhaps it was for the reason, too, that Albert was such a devoted father to his children. Above all, though, I cannot help but think how this sadness affected his health. Frequently he suffered from stomach complaints (it is my belief that stomach cancer rather than typhoid killed him), and exhaustion. He wore himself out with his work, it's true, but all that unxpressed sorrow surely took its toll. It's ironic that his daughter, Alice, who was so close to him, was unable to express her sorrow fully at his death, since she was caring for her mother and taking on some of the Queen responsibilities...and then, likewise, Alice was plagued with ill-health to the end of her short life.

Dear Papa

On December 14th 1861, England lost the greatest king we never had, and Queen Victoria was plunged into mourning for the untimely death, at the age of 42, of her 'beloved angel', Albert.
The mourning continued for many, many years; his night shirt was laid out on his bed ever evening and his shaving water changed each day, and Queen Victoria withdrew from public life for so long - unable to 'face the world alone' - that public patience ran out and a sign was placed on Buckingham Palace gates, saying: "Situation Vacant".
In the immediate aftermath of his death, his second daughter, Alice - mother of Grand Duchess Elizabeth - was the one who held the family together and sustained her mother through those early weeks. Alice was particularly close to her father and resembled him in many way - both exhausted themselves in the service of their countries, and had an overriding sense of the responsibility that came with their privileged positions.
Two years after Prince Albert's death, Alice - now married to Louis of Hesse - write to her mother:
"Pray for me when you kneel at his grace - pray that my happiness may be allowed to last long; think of me when you kneel there where on that day my hand rested on your and Papa's dear hands, two years ago. That bond between us is so strong, beloved Mama. I feel it is a legacy from him."
Seventeen years to the day after her father's death, Alice - having exhausted herself caring for her family who had been struck with diphtheria, succumbed to the illness herself. She had been virtually unconscious for some days when, on 14th December 1878, she opened her eyes and murmured, "Dear Papa!" He had come to take her home.

The Message of a Beautiful Prince

Once upon a time a beautiful prince, called Albert, who had spent his whole life in service to his country, his family and his people, had a beautiful dream of peace throughout the world. A wise and brilliant man, born into a position of some authority, then married into a position of great power, he was determined to use his gifts for the good of all. Whatever the cost to his health or his own comfort, he dedicated himself to duty so wholeheartedly that eventually it cost him his life. The tragedy was that his beautiful dream turned into a nightmare on the battlefields of WWI. His children and grandchildren found themselves on opposing sides. They became enemies and their positions of authority crumbled away as monarchies were overthrown.

Now, here's the rub. If this beautiful man had forgotten the world, forgotten his responsibility and duty, and had simply cared for his family, wouldn't they have been better off? Wouldn't he have been better off? He did it because he felt it was his duty and he cared for the people. The people were perfectly capable of taking care of themselves but, as always, people look to a figure of authority for guidance, and cast their own problems onto that figure, projecting every difficulty onto someone else - a figure of authority. The appalling part is that, as we 'came of age', instead of taking back responsibility, we (people) let ourselves be led by someone who claimed to speak for us: a Hitler, a Stalin, a dictator in any guise. These Hitlers, Stalins (who still appear) did not have the beautiful prince's love for their people, they saw only his power and they wanted it for themselves...

Sadly, to me, the days of the beautiful prince have gone. The sadness I feel about that, is only the sadness that we all go through when we pass out of childhood. The scary thing - far more scary that anything in the past - is the way that we go on following figures who come as wolves in sheep's clothing, promising change or a better world, or promising a great future. No one can do it for us; we can only do it for ourselves by taking back the power that is our birthright, and realizing from the mistakes of the beautiful prince and his beautiful family, that we'd all be better staying at home - not Empire-building, not seizing power, just living without having to rely on someone else to make our decisions for us.

If there were a choice between corrupt bankers and politicians or people like the beautiful prince, I would go for the latter. If there were a better choice between being ruled or simply living and minding our own business, I would go for the latter again. If we learn anything from history, it is surely that we need neither rule nor be ruled. Let's live according to our lights and grow up.

Princess Alice, continued.

Devoted as Alice was to her husband, it did not take long to discover that their intellectual and spiritual interests were far apart. Oftentimes melancholic, profoundly spiritual Alice had a questioning faith, and longed for a soul mate who could empathise with her quest for truth. She became fascinated by the controversial theologian David Strauss and her patronage of his work led to her being branded by the superficial Queen Augusta of Prussia as an atheist. Nothing could have been further from the truth but when tragedy struck her family with the death of her little son, Frittie, it seems Alice felt the need to return to a more conventional view of religion.
Frittie, diagnosed the previous year with haemophilia, was playing in Alice's room, when he caught sight of his brother through an open window. Climbing up to wave to him, the little boy fell onto the concrete below. At first he seemed merely dazed but that night he suffered a cerebral haemorrhage and died. Alice never fully recovered from his death.
Five years later, her eldest daughter Victoria contracted diphtheria which quickly spread through the family. Only her second daughter, Ella, remained free of the disease and, for her own safety, was sent to stay with her paternal grandmother in nearby Bessungen.
Alice personally nursed all of her children in turn, adhering to the doctor's instructions that she must neither kiss nor hold them for fear of contracting the illness herself. In spite of all her care, her youngest daughter, May, died, and, since Louis had also been struck with the illness, Alice was obliged to attend her funeral alone.
When Alice's son, Ernie, himself suffering from the disease asked for news of his sister's progress, Alice felt obliged to conceal from him the fact that she had died for fear that the news would further weaken him. As Ernie began to recover, Alice told him the truth and he was so upset that she could no longer bear it. Contrary to the doctor's instructions she hugged and kissed him...It was to be what Disraeli reported to Parliament, 'the kiss of death'.
As the rest of the family recovered, Alice contracted the disease and too worn out to fight it, died, at the age of 35, on the anniversary of the death her father - 14th December 1878. Her final whispered words were, "Dear Papa..." It seems her beloved father had come to take her home.

Princess Alice 1843-1878

Over the next few weeks, I intend to add accounts of some of the members of Queen Victoria's extended family, beginning today with one of the most tragic and heroic of all the Queen's children, her second daughter, Princess Alice, Grand Duchess of Hesse.

Only eighteen-years-old when her father, Prince Albert, died in December 1861, the young princess virtually took over all her mother's duties, while the Queen was lost in her grief. This gave Alice little time to come to terms with her own bereavement - and she had been very close to her father.
Alice's wedding, the following July, was a gloomy affair. Virtually everyone was dressed in black, the Queen and several of Alice's siblings wept throughout the service and even the recently-widowed Archbishop performing the ceremony was in tears.
Alice went with her new husband, Prince Louis of Hesse-and-by-Rhine, to Darmstadt, the centre of the little German Grand Duchy to which her husband was heir. By royal standards they were not wealthy and were driven to beg Queen Victoria for financial assistance.
Alice devoted herself entirely to the people of Hesse, often going incognito to their homes, scrubbing floors and making meals for the sick and elderly. She founded countless charitable institutions, supported the Red Cross, opened a 'mental asylum' and personally worked in the hospitals carrying out the most menial tasks.
She bore 5 children - two of whom, Ella, the future Grand Duchess Elizaveta Feodorovna, and Alix, the future Empress Alexandra of Russia - were destined to be murdered by the bolsheviks. Unlike many princesses of her day, Alice took a personal interest in every aspect of her children's welfare and education, shocking Queen Victoria by breast-feeding baby Ella herself. Their curriculum was wide-ranging and alongside academic skills she introduced all her children to the idea that responsibility accompanied their privileged position.
To be continued....