The result was a summons for Bertie to come to Windsor to face his enraged mama.
The Queen looked distastefully at her eldest son.
‘Really, Bertie,’ she said, ‘you have no sense of decorum. Do you imagine for one moment that it is your place to advise my Foreign Secretary as to the course of action he should take?’
Bertie replied that Alix was anxious about her brother.
‘And do you imagine that the State should take notice of these family relationships?’
Bertie found it difficult to stand against her. He realised that he could not interfere and he had only agreed to do so to placate Alix. He had done his best and the Queen and the Foreign Secretary would not help George of Greece. He could do no more. Poor Alix, she felt so deeply for her family.
‘You will write to your brother-in-law,’ said the Queen, ‘and tell him that we can do nothing to help him. He will have to accept the situation and try to bring about peace in his country.’
Alix was sad. First her parents had been refused help by this powerful country into which she had married; and now her brother. It showed clearly that she had no influence with her new relations.
She had become pregnant again.
There was news from Denmark. Dagmar was soon to leave for Russia and her marriage to the Czarevitch.
Bertie was excited. He and Alix had been invited to the wedding and there was nothing he enjoyed so much as travelling abroad but the doctor, Sir James Paget, was rather uneasy about Alix’s condition and said that on no account must she undertake the arduous journey.
Alix was desolate. Not to be at Dagmar’s wedding was very disappointing; she and Bertie had so looked forward to going.
‘Of course,’ said Bertie, his eyes gleaming in anticipation, ‘it would be unthinkable for neither of us to go to Dagmar’s wedding.’ Sometimes Alix fancied that he preferred to be alone on the journeys abroad.
The Queen disapproved of Bertie’s travelling out of the country, particularly without Alix. Vicky was always aware of any scandal that was circulating and it seemed that it always did about Bertie. His love of gambling was to be deplored but even more so was the fact that it came only second to his love of fascinating women.
Bertie had no intention of going to Osborne to be lectured by the Queen so he went direct to the Prime Minister, Lord Derby, and asked if he did not think relations with Russia would be improved if he went as a guest to the wedding and at the same time made himself agreeable. Disraeli was inclined to think that the Prince was an excellent ambassador and there could be no harm in his taking the trip and possibly a great deal of good. Disraeli had nicknamed him Prince Hal (because of his love of enjoyment) and this seeped out and the Prince was often referred to in this way.
Armed with ministerial approval Bertie faced the Queen at Windsor and told her that Lord Derby and Mr Disraeli were of the opinion that although Alix was unable to attend the wedding he, in the interests of foreign relations, should do so.
Since Mr Disraeli thought it was a good thing, the Queen supposed it was.
‘But you must visit Prussia on your return journey,’ she told him. ‘You must be Vicky’s guest for a short while.’
Bertie inwardly grimaced. Vicky was so censorious and in his light-hearted way he did deplore recent Prussian activities. However, the Queen was adamant. No Vicky, no Russian wedding, whatever her ministers said.
Bertie went off to Russia in high spirits. There was no doubt that he was a great success. His easy manners, his charm, his delight in the gayest entertainments brought him great popularity. He was constantly seen in the company of beautiful women and there was a certain amount of scandal. Alice was worried about it. It seemed very wrong of Bertie to show such pleasure in the company of women when poor Alix was unable to accompany him and by all accounts her health was giving some cause for anxiety. She felt it her duty to write to Sir William Knollys on the subject and Sir William spoke to Bertie, who was very amused that gentle Alice should follow in Vicky’s footsteps. Vicky had always been critical, like an echo of their father, and he expected it from her. Sir William thought that Princess Alice had probably been very disturbed by rumours and that was her reason for writing to him.
Bertie said he must be pleasant to people. It was part of his duties to be so.
‘Perhaps Your Highness could try to be impartially gracious.’
Bertie thought that it was necessary to do honour more to some people than others and it would of course depend on their qualifications to deserve that honour. There was a twinkle in his eye and Sir William understood that he had no intention of changing his ways; but perhaps he could be induced to be a little more discreet.
Vicky, of course, wrote to the Queen. She did think that Bertie should be a little more thoughtful where poor dear Alix was concerned.
With the new year Alix was alarmed by strange pains which she was feeling in her limbs. In early February these grew worse; by the middle of the month she could only walk with great difficulty and was confined to her room. The doctors diagnosed acute rheumatism.
The fact that the birth of a child was imminent gave cause for alarm, and a few days after she had been confined to her room her daughter was born. Before her pains had started, her temperature had soared and there was no doubt that she was in a fever, yet the baby was safely delivered and appeared to be well.
Sir James Paget was very anxious about her. The fact that she had given birth to a child while in the throes of rheumatic fever could mean that her life was in danger.
In her delirium she talked of the Yellow Palace and kept calling for her parents. He deliberated whether to send a messenger to Windsor where the Queen was at that time or to send immediately for the Prince of Wales, who was out of London. Fearing that the Princess was on the point of death he decided that there was no time and he acted on his own judgement by telegraphing direct to Denmark begging the King and Queen to come at once as he feared for the life of the Princess of Wales.
Within a few days Queen Louise was at Marlborough House. King Christian was following and would arrive two days later. Louise went straight to the sickroom and took her daughter into her arms, speaking to her in the manner she had done as a child. Alix was immediately comforted; the tension seemed to have passed and although she was in great pain the change in her was remarkable.
The Queen, who had now heard of the state of Alix’s health, at once came to Marlborough House from Windsor, but by the time she had arrived Louise was already in the sickroom.
The Queen was astonished that Louise should have come to England uninvited. Surely, she fumed to herself, if Alix’s parents were needed I should have been told so that I could have invited them in the proper manner. ‘Where is Sir James Paget?’ she demanded.
Sir James presented himself, dignified and unrepentant. ‘The Princess’s life was in danger, M’am, and it was my duty to save it.’
The Queen of course appreciated that and would not have had Sir James act otherwise, but she wondered whether it was part of his duty to invite people to her Court; she had never liked that woman who was so deaf that she could not understand what was said to her, and who painted her cheeks.
The Queen burst into the sickroom and when she saw Alix with her hand in her mother’s looking so wan and ill and yet so much at peace because Louise was there, all her anger faded. After all she might be a domineering woman and deaf; she might paint her cheeks; but she was Alix’s mother and Alix wanted her at that time more than her relations by marriage.