The Widow of Windsor (19 page)

Then she went back to Alix, who was in great pain. There was no doubt that the child was about to be born and there was nothing ready for it.

Dr Brown arrived immediately and even so he was only just in time, and he and Lady Macclesfield between them delivered the child. A boy.

There were no clothes ready so Lady Macclesfield took off the flannel petticoat she was wearing, because of the intense cold, and wrapped the little boy in it. Alix was exhausted and the seven-months’ child was naturally rather feeble and would need special care.

It was fortunate that Lord Granville, a member of the Cabinet, happened to be staying at Frogmore, so that Lady Macclesfield was able to present the new baby – wrapped in her petticoat – to him. He was not the Archbishop of Canterbury nor the Prime Minister nor the Lord Chamberlain, whom custom asked should be present at a royal birth, but the circumstances of a seven-months’ child were extenuating and it was decided that Lord Granville would do on this occasion.

The Queen came hurrying over to Frogmore to see her new grandson. Such a feeble little thing, but then she had never liked little babies. And dear sweet Alix, who had had so much anxiety about her parents and that dreadful Schleswig-Holstein affair, was very weak.

Alix began to recover in a few days and holding her baby in her arms she was able to forget for a while the tragic happenings in Denmark.

Vicky wrote from Berlin, very excited by the news. She criticised the parents of the newly born child, though, and hinted that they had brought on the premature birth by their conduct. Bertie’s gay life was talked of freely and it was really rather embarrassing, she pitied poor dear Alix. But Alix herself had not taken proper care; she had kept late nights too and not rested enough. Why, on the very occasion of the birth she had been out skating.

The Queen replied she was pleased to have a grandson and it was amazing that the birth had been all over in an hour.
Good
Dr Brown from Windsor had done very well and they must be grateful to Lady Macclesfield who, the dear good soul, had done everything that the nurses were trained to do. It was necessary to take the
utmost
care of the child and keep him in cotton wool. Seven-months’ children were naturally more difficult to rear than those who had enjoyed the full period of gestation. She thought this would be a
lesson
to Alix and Bertie to take greater care in future.

Settled in at Frogmore the Queen thought longingly of Osborne. She disliked births but felt it her duty to be present. She told Vicky she would have liked to be with her at the birth of her children. She fancied she could be a little comfort to them and it was pleasant to be of some use in the family now that Dearest Papa was no longer there to need her.

She forgot her annoyance with Alix over Schleswig-Holstein because the dear girl looked so pretty in bed and she could always feel lenient towards people at whom it was pleasant to look.

The question of the child’s name arose.

Bertie wanted to call him Victor. It will be a change in the family, he said.

Alix liked it, too.

‘It should be Albert Victor,’ declared the Queen. ‘His grandfather would have been so proud of him, and the least we can do is to keep green the memory of that Dear Being.’

‘Albert Victor,’ said Bertie trying it out.

‘It’s very good,’ said the Queen. ‘And when you are King, Bertie, I wish you to be known as King Albert Edward.’

‘It’s departure from precedent,’ Bertie pointed out, which was irritating because on so many occasions that was just what
he
was always trying to do.

‘All the same,’ said the Queen, ‘it is what I wish. I want Papa’s name to be perpetuated; and it is a way of reminding people of everything he has done for this country.’

Bertie did not pursue the question. It would probably be a matter for the government to decide when the time came.

In the meantime there was the christening of Albert Victor to be performed. This was to take place at St George’s Chapel with the necessary ceremony due to one who could one day be the King of England. The Queen planted a small evergreen tree at Frogmore in memory of his birth; and so he was christened Albert Victor Christian Edward.

They should have been happy days for Alix, although she was not allowed to see much of her son who was too fragile to lead the life of an ordinary newly born baby. He was small and delicate naturally but he was beautifully and perfectly formed; the doctors said it would only be a matter of time before he caught up on those two months by which he had made his premature appearance. The Queen told her that Vicky wanted to know if he had any hair and nails and what ministers were present at the birth.

‘I could happily tell her,’ the Queen confided to Alix, ‘that he is an adorable little fellow with such beautiful features and pretty ears and hands and that Lord Granville was present.’

Alix felt triumphant. She was not very fond of Vicky, whom she regarded as an enemy; her country was fighting against Denmark and Alix was afraid to ask what was happening for fear it should be too depressing. In any case the Queen had given orders that no one was to mention that dreadful war to Alix while she was lying in.

‘I don’t really care for Mrs Innocent,’ said the Queen, referring to one of the nurses. ‘Dear Lady Macclesfield tells me she is becoming a continual nuisance with her high and mighty airs and seems to think that she should run the nursery. If she continues to behave badly she shall be sent away. But Mrs Clark is good, I believe.’

Alix surveyed her with tears in her eyes. ‘You are so good,’ she told her. ‘I know that you do not like little babies and everything that concerns their being born. But you are here …’

Tears always affected the Queen deeply. They were a sign of
feeling
.

‘Dear sweet Alix,’ she said at once, ‘how glad I am that you came to us. It was a very happy day for Bertie and for me.’

Then she bent over and kissed the dear girl who looked so pretty.

When she was gone Alix lay still with her eyes closed thinking about the Queen who still mourned for the husband she had clearly adored. She wondered whether she would ever learn to feel the same way about Bertie. She loved her husband; he was charming and kind; she wondered whether he was faithful to her. There were often suggestions that he was not. Albert would always have been faithful to Victoria of course; but Bertie and his father were as different as two husbands could be.

She had learned quite a lot about the Prince Consort; one could not be long in the Queen’s company without doing so; and sometimes she thought he seemed intolerable. On the whole perhaps she was better off with a man like Bertie. In time, she thought, he will change. He just feels that he has so much to make up for after being under the sway of his stern father.

While she was brooding letters were brought to her. How good to hear from home!

There was one from her father. She read it through and let it flutter on to the quilt. Her fingers seemed too limp to hold it.

‘For God’s sake, Alix,’ was the message, ‘England must help us. We are going down before the might of the Prussians. You are English now. Help us, Alix.’

What could she do?

When Bertie came to see her he found her sunk deep in depression.

‘What’s wrong, Alix?’ Bertie wanted to know; and she showed him her father’s appeal.

‘Something will have to be done,’ said Bertie. ‘England will go in and stand by the Danes. They’re waiting for the right moment. Old Pam loves to sweep in with dramatic effect. Don’t worry. We shall be there … beside the Danes.’

She allowed herself to be convinced.

‘Why, Bertie,’ she said, ‘if England did not help my poor country I should be so ashamed. They’d think I had failed them in some way.’

‘You’re not going to fail them,’ said Bertie, and she thought how kind he was until he started to tell her about the races he had visited that day and she saw then that he didn’t really care very much about the great tragedy overhanging her family.

The news grew worse. The Prussians were invading Schleswig-Holstein. Vicky’s husband had left Berlin to join the forces which were fighting against Alix’s father.

News came that Holstein, the pro-German of the two Duchies, was in the hands of German troops and that the Danish authorities had evacuated it. Bismarck demanded that the position of Schleswig-Holstein and the Danish constitution should be investigated, and when King Christian refused to consider this German troops began to march on Schleswig.

The Prime Minister and Lord Russell came to see the Queen.

‘The Austrians and Prussians are power crazy,’ said Palmerston. ‘They won’t stop at Schleswig-Holstein; they’ll march on and crush Denmark. This is what Bismarck means with his blood and iron.’

‘The fleet should be sent to Copenhagen,’ said Russell.

The Queen stared at him in dismay. ‘I should never consent. It would be tantamount to declaring war on Germany.’

‘Which might do that rather blown-up country some good,’ said Palmerston.

Oh, how she disliked those old men! Albert had always believed in neutrality.

‘Prince Albert would never have agreed to make war on Germans.’

‘We have to consider what is best for England, M’am,’ Palmerston reminded her.

‘War is never good for any country,’ retorted the Queen.

The two ministers exchanged glances. When it was considered the moment to act, Palmerston would do so; at the moment it was better perhaps to prevaricate; and the attitude of the Queen gave him an opportunity of doing so.

Alix was growing frantic. Her country was in danger and England was doing nothing to help. She fretted and grew pale and thin. Bertie declared it was a shameful thing that England did not go to the rescue of Denmark. He was far from discreet and at every opportunity declared his contempt for the shilly-shallying government and the wicked Prussians.

Palmerston, while deciding it was better for the Prussians, Austrians and Danes to work this matter out for themselves kept an anxious eye on the Baltic ports. He took an opportunity of warning the Austrian ambassador in London that if their fleet appeared in the Baltic they would find the British Navy there too.

The Queen was horrified; she could visualise the country’s being dragged into war. She declared that she would not give her consent, and refused to sign the speech from the throne, which the government had prepared for the opening of Parliament. She herself had not attended an opening since the death of Albert.

Throughout the country sympathy ran high for Denmark. Everywhere they went Alix and Bertie were cheered. The people wanted to go to the aid of ‘Little Denmark’ because the Press had given the impression that if Prussia marched on that country Britain would be Denmark’s staunch ally. Moreover, the Danish Princess of Wales had appealed to them; she was young, pretty, and had already given birth to the heir in rather dramatic circumstances. Good old Bertie was a gay dog, often at loggerheads with stern Mama, who in any case had offended the public by shutting herself away.

Alix was cheered by public sympathy, but what good was that while Denmark was being hopelessly beaten by the Prussian and Austrian hordes?