‘For the moment,’ said Lord Palmerston, ‘wait and see.’
This sounded a little like Lord Melbourne.
She was very uneasy, though, for trouble between Denmark and Prussia, which this obviously was, was really trouble in the family.
Chapter VIII
THE UNEXPECTED BIRTH
Alix was plunged into great unhappiness. She could imagine what was going on at home. Her dear father, a few weeks King of Denmark, to be plunged into war, and such a war. She knew that the Germans were determined to set up Augustenburg in Schleswig-Holstein. She dreamed of Schleswig-Holstein; it had always been a kind of bogey in her life. She remembered as a child hearing those dreadful words at the time when Papa had gone away from home for so long fighting the enemy. But on that occasion they had won the battle; and she had thought it was over; now she realised that all that happened was an uneasy truce.
Everything had seemed so wonderful; herself Princess of Wales, William King of Greece, Fredy the heir to the crown of Denmark and Dagmar courted by the Czarevitch of Russia. So important they had become which was good for Denmark, for it was, after all, only a very small country. And now the mighty Prussians were threatening to crush it.
This had happened at the worst moment. She was feeling the discomforts of pregnancy: she was beginning to understand that the romantic relationship between herself and Bertie was somewhat superficial and that if she were to keep his affection she must never ask too many questions or attempt to discover what his activities were when he was not in her company; and now she had this anxiety about her father. She realised how deeply she loved her parents and because Bertie had told her something of his own childhood she could be grateful for what she had unquestioningly accepted as natural; a happy childhood with parents who had loved her and brought her and her brothers and sisters up with a discipline that had its roots in love. That precious security which children needed more than anything had been hers. Poor Bertie had sadly missed it. Perhaps that was why he now so fervently pursued what he called pleasure.
She knew her father well. Although he had been trained as a soldier he was not meant to fight. One comfort was that her mother would be beside him to help him; and her mother had always believed that she was born to rule.
But it was worrying and her happy world had disintegrated.
Now she could not complain of Bertie’s attitude towards her. He joined in her indignation; it was monstrous, he said, that Prussia should support that upstart Augustenburg. England ought to come to the assistance of little Denmark. When she awoke in the night after some dreadful nightmare in which she had seen soldiers storming the Yellow Palace and poor Papa trying in vain to fend them off, it was Bertie who bent over her whispering comforting words.
‘Don’t fret, Alix,’ he said. ‘England will do something. I happen to know old Pam’s on our side.’
Our side. Oh yes, she had a great deal to be thankful for in Bertie.
But she went on worrying; she couldn’t eat and her sleep was often disturbed. Those dreaded words Schleswig-Holstein seemed to hammer continually in her brain.
When the Queen considered the problem she naturally thought of Albert. What would he have thought had he been here now? Albert had always been patriotic towards his own country, so he would have been on the side of Germany and that would be against the Danes.
Albert would be right because he always had been right, and of course she would wish to follow Albert in all things. Lord Palmerston might hint at the dark practices of which he suspected the Prussians might be guilty; Bertie might rave against them, it was typical of the British press to write sentimentally about Little Denmark; and poor Alix was naturally broken-hearted; but the Queen felt that Albert would believe that Augustenburg had first claim on Schleswig-Holstein and one could not be sentimental about that sort of thing.
Vicky was writing from Berlin and how could she fail to support the country to which she now belonged. What was happening in Denmark, she said, was King Christian’s own fault; he should not have taken the crown knowing what a flimsy claim he had. Of course he was dear Alix’s father and she was sorry for Alix, particularly in her present condition. It was most unfortunate; moreover, there were rumours on the continent that Bertie was rather fond of the society of ladies whose reputation was not of the best. Another trial for poor Alix! Still, that did not alter the rights of the situation.
If only dear beloved Albert had been here it would all have been so much easier to make everyone understand, and she had no doubt that he would have come up with the right solution and been able to persuade either the Prussians to desist or Christian to give way. But alas for the world, Albert was no more.
The 14th of December had arrived again – the second anniversary of his death. There was nothing else to be thought of on that day but the great emptiness that was left by his departure. She and the children would visit the mausoleum and spend some time there; and afterwards she would shut herself in her room and read her journals and mourn afresh.
Christmas was not a very happy season. Alix was sick and wretched, with the terrible Schleswig-Holstein business hanging over everything like a black cloud. In addition, her pregnancy was not proving an easy one and there were occasions when she felt really ill – a fact which she strove hard to keep from Bertie who liked everyone about him to be carefree.
Vicky was writing rather censoriously from Berlin in definitely anti-Danish terms; the Queen’s half-sister, Feodora, whose daughter was married to the Duke of Augustenburg, was vigorously on the side of the rebels; and Alix, remembering other Christmases at the Yellow Palace, longed for the old Scandinavian Jul and those days when the only tragedy in life was being late for meals and having to go without a second helping or take her coffee standing up.
On one occasion she had been unable to contain herself and had burst out in an anti-Prussian tirade before the Queen. Victoria had always been affectionate to Alix but in that moment her expression was cold and her manner regal.
‘My dear Alix,’ she said as though Alix was anything but dear to her, ‘I see that I must give orders that Schleswig-Holstein is a subject which shall not be discussed among the family in my presence.’
Alix could have burst into tears. It was all so sad and changed. Only Bertie was comforting and quarrelled with Vicky on his wife’s behalf.
But, as the Queen said, it was particularly distressing when political matters became family affairs.
Bertie and Alix stayed at Frogmore which Bertie said was less depressing than Windsor and, being in the Windsor Royal Park, was accessible to the Castle and therefore they would not offend Mama by taking up residence there.
It was bitterly cold that winter and Virginia Water was frozen over. When Alix saw it she thought of skating parties at home and declared her desire to go on the ice.
Bertie looked dubious and the Countess of Macclesfield, Alix’s chief lady of the Bedchamber, was horrified at the idea. Alix had come to rely on Lady Macclesfield who was very motherly – she had twelve children of her own – and ever since Alix’s arrival in England had been in charge of the household which was very useful from Alix’s point of view.
‘In your condition,’ said Lady Macclesfield, ‘it would be folly.’ And Alix meekly agreed.
Bertie, however, was planning a party; he was of the opinion that everything should be celebrated by a party and when ice hockey was suggested he was enthusiastic.