Each day the Rev. M. S. Ellis, who was Chaplain to the British Legation in Copenhagen, came to the Yellow Palace to instruct her in the form of Protestantism which was practised in England and was slightly different from the Lutheranism of Denmark.
Then there were the balls and receptions given in her honour. Wally’s husband – now Sir Augustus – gave a ball for her at the British Embassy. Wally was more vivacious than ever and obviously delighted that her efforts had borne fruit. She whispered to Alix that she looked beautiful and Bertie was going to be very proud of her. And Wally of course would pay frequent visits to England. ‘Don’t forget I’m married to an Englishman,’ she said with a grimace towards her handsome husband.
Alix’s grandparents gave a party for her and her grandfather was clearly delighted with her.
‘Such an ugly little thing you were when you were born,’ he kept reminding her.
Then of course there was the reception at the Yellow Palace when she must say good-bye to all those who had taught her and served her during her childhood. This was the saddest of them all.
Dear Miss Knudsen, who had taught her English and had become a friend, was very sad. Alix knew that she owed a great deal to her because under her tuition her English had become quite good. She had only the faintest accent which Bertie assured her was adorable and now and then she used expressions which might not have been exactly English but which she realised were quaint and charming.
Then came the last night in the Yellow Palace. Dagmar stayed late in her room and they sat talking of the past. Poor Dagmar, who was going to be lonely and was a little apprehensive. Dagmar was far cleverer than she was. Louise had always said so. Alix was not the clever one in the family, even though she might be the beauty.
‘You were always so much quicker at lessons than I,’ she told Dagmar to cheer her. ‘When you marry you’ll have nothing to fear. You will understand politics and everything. I’m lucky. Bertie told me he was glad I was not one of those clever women. He couldn’t abide them. Suppose he had been like his father. I would never have done.’
‘There aren’t many men like him, I suppose.’
‘According to the Queen, alas – according to Bertie, thank heaven – No!’
‘Bertie is a little disrespectful towards his dear papa.’
‘Bertie is honest. And I think he is much nicer than his saintly papa.’
‘I’m sure of that,’ said Dagmar.
Then they talked of tomorrow and the journey and the wedding. It was all so exciting.
‘I’m sure I shall never sleep tonight,’ said Alix.
But Dagmar said she would and kissing her good night went rather sorrowfully to her own room.
Alix tried to turn her attention to The Heir of Redclyffe which Miss Knudsen had lent her and which she said would improve her English. She must finish it because she must give it back to Miss Knudsen before she left for England.
Alix woke in her little room in the Yellow Palace on the 28th of February 1863 and the first thing she thought was: ‘I shall never sleep in this room again.’
She looked about it at the piano, the cabinet and the work table and remembered how when she had returned from her confirmation her mother had brought her up here and told her that now she was grown up she should have a room of her own. How important that had seemed! She had felt then that she had come to the greatest turning point in her life. But what was that compared with this?
Louise came in.
‘Well, my dear, this is the day and there is a great deal to do.’ She smiled wryly. ‘You must not be late in leaving.’
‘We are not to leave until this afternoon.’
‘No, but there is plenty to do before that.’
She was right; the morning was gone before she was ready for it, and then the carriages which would take them to the railway station were at the door.
The family were clustered round her. She was thankful that this was not the final farewell for they were all accompanying her to England for the ceremony; even little Valdemar was to come with them. He was only four and, although the ceremony would mean little to him, could not be left at home.
The streets of Copenhagen were crowded. The English marriage had been the main topic of conversation throughout the whole of Denmark ever since the Princess had gone to England and won the approval of the Queen. The English match was the best possible thing for Denmark which would be allied to that most powerful country through marriage; and with Prussian threats beginning to menace that was a very comforting thought. So there were cheers for the elegant girl who had given them this comfort; and how proud they were of her, for she looked very elegant in a brown silk dress with white stripes and a little bonnet perched on her head. Flowers were thrown at the carriage as it passed and people crowded round it so that at one time it seemed as though they would be unable to move. This was a loving demonstration and Alexandra was deeply moved by it.
All the same it was a relief to settle into the train. Christian and Louise smiled approvingly at their daughter.
‘The first stage is over,’ said Christian, ‘and may I say you did very well, my dear.’
‘Oh, that part was easy,’ said Alix with a smile.
‘They are such loyal good people,’ added Louise.
‘Well, they’ve known me all my life,’ Alix reminded her. ‘They will have seen me perhaps walking along the Lange Linie and gazing into the shops and wondering whether I could copy the dresses there.’
‘It will be different now,’ said Louise. ‘Dagmar and Thyra will have to carry on, though, for a while.’
‘It won’t be the same without Alix,’ said Dagmar quietly. ‘She always knows how a dress is going to look before it’s made.’
‘We’re going to miss our Alix,’ said Christian sadly.
‘Now, Papa,’ reproved Louise, ‘don’t let us be morbid.’
She called attention to Valdemar who was talking to his new toy donkey and showing him the countryside they were passing through.
‘Isn’t this a great adventure, Valdy darling?’ said Alix.
Valdemar nodded. ‘Donkey likes trains,’ he said.
‘And you, Valdy dear, what do you like?’
He thought for a while and then he said, ‘I like Donkey.’
And the happy domestic atmosphere seemed to have come back to them.
There were receptions everywhere they stopped, even in Germany which was strange because the Germans were somewhat put out by the match. English royalty usually married Germans; English royalty was half German. The Germans felt this departure from an old custom and taking in Denmark was to some extent a slight on their princesses. But Alexandra was young and charming and whatever the statesmen thought the people could not resist a beautiful bride.
At the Laeken Palace Uncle Leopold was waiting to welcome them.
He embraced Alix warmly, and called her his dear child. He was so happy about this match. It was the best thing possible for Bertie and for Alix – his dear, dear children. ‘I’m as happy now as when Victoria married Albert,’ he told Alix, ‘my niece and my nephew but to me they were like daughter and son, as you two young people are. I have suffered such pain these last weeks. My doctors told me I should have stayed in bed. “In bed,” I said, “when my dearest Alexandra is coming to visit me en route for England for her marriage with that other dear child of mine!” Whatever pain I had to suffer I was not going to stay in bed.’