‘The Princess will be telling your stories to our son as soon as he is old enough to understand,’ he said.
With reluctance Alix said good-bye to her family.
The royal yacht sailed away and they came into Kiel harbour into those waters which until this year had been Danish and were now German, and according to nautical custom the Prussian flag was hoisted.
When Alix saw it she turned pale with anger.
‘That flag is to be removed at once,’ she said.
Bertie looked up at it, shrugging his shoulders. It was only courteous to fly the flag of a country when a ship was in its territorial waters, he pointed out.
‘These are Danish waters,’ she retaliated.
‘They were,’ said Bertie sadly.
‘They are,’ she insisted.
‘There’s nothing we can do about it,’ he said.
He was unprepared for her vehemence.
‘There is,’ she said. ‘I shall not leave this yacht until that flag is removed.’
Bertie sent for the Captain and asked him to explain the custom to the Princess of Wales. He left them together. Trust Bertie, she thought sadly, to escape from an unpleasant situation.
The Captain explained that while they were in Prussian waters the flag must fly.
‘It shall not fly,’ she said. ‘They are waiting for me on shore but I shall stay on the yacht until that flag is taken down and you know that.’
The guns were firing their salutes of welcome and the Captain recognised the determination in Alix’s eyes.
He gave orders that the flag should be lowered.
Alix was very uneasy. She thought the Queen should have spared them this. They did not go to Berlin of course. That would have been most unwise, for some of Bertie’s criticisms of the Prussians had been repeated there. Vicky and her husband, however, did have a brief meeting with them at Cologne. It took place on the railway station through which they had arranged to pass at the same time. At least they would satisfy the Queen that they had met.
Vicky was cool and restrained, remembering the unwise things Bertie had said about the Prussians. As for Alix she felt so sick at heart when she thought of her father’s sufferings that she could scarcely bear to look at them, especially as Fritz had come in uniform, wearing medals he had won in the war. It was fortunate that the meeting was so brief.
November had arrived by the time the Osborne brought them back to England. Alix was pregnant again.
While Bertie and Alix were still abroad the Queen had a pleasant surprise.
Her doctor, William Jenner, called on her and asked for her indulgence because after consulting with Sir Charles Phipps, the Keeper of the Privy Purse, he had taken an action which she might well feel he should not have taken.
‘Pray be more explicit,’ said the Queen.
‘We have been concerned for Your Majesty’s health,’ said Jenner, ‘and it is my firm belief that you need more fresh air. When you are at Balmoral you are so much better than you are here and we believe it is because you take more exercise. Now up in Scotland we know that you have a very trusty servant and they are hard to come by. We have taken the liberty of sending for one of your servants whom we trust to take the utmost care of Your Majesty.’
The Queen looked from one to the other in astonishment. That her doctor and the Keeper of her Privy Purse should decide on what servants she should have was incredible. Had they gone mad?
Dr Jenner said: ‘Of course if Your Majesty does not approve, Brown can be sent back without delay.’
‘Brown!’ said the Queen, her voice changing without her realising it.
‘John Brown, M’am, to whom we both feel we can entrust Your Majesty’s safety in the Highlands – so why not in the South as well.’
The Queen smiled. ‘Brown,’ she said, ‘is a very good and faithful servant.’
‘Your Majesty should get out more. He could drive you, or ride with you, as Your Majesty wished.’
‘It is quite a good idea,’ she admitted.
And when they had gone she felt elated. He really was the perfect servant.
Very soon he arrived and she asked that he be brought to her at once.
‘So here you are, Brown,’ she said. ‘I hope you’re going to like the South. I am sure you will find it very interesting.’
‘It’s nae the Highlands,’ said Brown.
‘Of course it is not the Highlands. But I’m very glad to see you here. I hope you are pleased to come.’
‘I’ll nae be knowing that till I’ve tried it,’ said Brown.
How she laughed when she was alone. He was so blunt. Of course he was so faithful, so loyal, no respecter of persons, not even that of the Queen, whom he would guard with his life. Albert had always said that he was the best gillie he had ever had – he and Grant that was, and Grant had been the head gillie.
Albert would be very pleased that she had this good and faithful servant with her at Osborne. After all, Jenner and Phipps were right. Why keep him in Scotland? Why should he not be with her wherever she was.
Everyone was noticing the change in her. She smiled more frequently; those about her were astonished by the calm manner in which she allowed Brown to discard ceremony. She would smile at him, admiring his firm chin. She had always admired firm chins and remembered how she used to study her own in the looking-glass until the Baroness Lehzen reproved her vanity. ‘It’s not vanity,’ she would say. ‘It’s the opposite. I dislike my chin. It’s so weak.’ It was the family chin, of course. Some of her uncles had had it; some of her children had it; so she could not be surprised that she had it. No wonder she admired Brown’s chin.
‘Brown,’ she said one day, ‘one can see you’re an obstinate man, by the way in which your chin juts out. It betrays a firmness of purpose.’
Brown fingered his chin and gave her that look which so amused her because it was half contemptuous, half protective. It made her feel that she was a woman rather than a Queen – a very pleasant feeling at times.
‘Ye manage to be an obstinate woman,’ was his comment, ‘with no chin at all.’
So very funny! ‘Really, Brown, you are amusing.’ She was frequently laughing now. Sometimes she pulled herself up sharply and thought of Albert. Then she would go to her room and read her journals and brood on the past until Brown said that she was looking sickly and he’d saddled Flora and it was time they were riding.
There was no doubt at all – Brown made all the difference.
Chapter X
THE END OF PAM AND THE RISE OF DIZZY
The Queen was secretly dismayed. For several hours of the day she would not even think of Albert. It had happened since Brown had come to Osborne and she realised how right they had been to send for him. Now of course when she went to Balmoral he would go with her, and if she had to go to London he would be there. The prospect of going to London was not nearly so distasteful when she considered that Brown would be there.
Brown was so reliable, so courageous, so amusing, with his dour Highland ways, such a relief after ordinary people. Of course, none of the people who surrounded her appreciated him and they were astonished by what she ‘put up with’ (as they expressed it) from a servant.
‘Brown is no ordinary servant,’ she would say with a laugh. ‘One does not get devotion like that from ordinary servants, I do assure you.’
He looked after the horses and the dogs, but that did take up a great deal of his time and she really needed him to have a more personal post. He was to have a salary of £120 a year – rather large, it was true, but the man needed some compensation for leaving his home. How amusing it was to see his delight when she talked of going to Balmoral. She had arranged that each morning he should come to her room to receive the orders for the day. She looked forward to seeing him and hearing his dry comments on the weather – always so amusing. He had a contempt for the South of which he made no secret which showed how loyal he was to his native land.