A life to endure vs. a life just beginning

From Queen Victoria to the Crown Princess

Osborne, February 4, 1863

Bertie’s marriage is finally to be on Tuesday the 10^th [of March]; Alix etc. to arrive on the 7^th.  Oh!  if it was only over!  I dread the whole thing awfully and wonder even how you can rejoice so much at witnessing what must I should think be to you, who loved Papa so dearly, so terribly sad a wedding!  Dear child!  your ecstasy at the whole thing is to me sometimes very incomprehensible!  Think what it will be to see Windsor full of people, and both your parents absent; a marriage in state, also without them – that day to which we looked forward with such joy for many years and which now is to me far worse than a funeral to witness!  Will you be able to rejoice when at every step you will miss that blessed guardian angel, that one calm great being that led all?  And poor B.

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(James Mercer and Danger Mouse of Broken Bells.  Don't worry, it'll make sense in a minute.  Photo credit: NPR.org)

I’m going to start off today with a little detour that may seem completely unrelated, but it’s quick, and it will lead right into discussion of today’s entry.  (Really, it will, I promise.)  About ten years ago, James Mercer of the indie rock band The Shins and Brian Burton, aka Danger Mouse, a producer/musician extraordinaire, met and struck up a friendship.  After discovering they were fans of each other’s music, they decided to start working together and see what happened.  The result is Broken Bells, who released their self-titled LP in 2010.  On that LP is a song titled “The Ghost Inside,” (the video of which stars Mad Men’s Christina Hendricks, but that’s not important right now) which may be about a woman who gives up her morals, ethics, and dignity for something less admirable.  There’s a line in the song that goes something like this:

“She’s got no future just a life to endure…”

When I read entries like this from Victoria written during the height of her grief, I think of this song.  Although Victoria didn’t exactly give up her morality for materialistic reasons (nor did she go on a drinking binge), for several years she more or less stopped living because she could not bear the thought of existing without Albert.  And by this point, she truly did believe that she had no future, that she was just living out her days which she hoped would be over quite soon.  Even the thought of her eldest son’s wedding couldn’t help her muster some enthusiasm and joy for the event.

So Bertie had finally proposed to Alexandra of Denmark in September 1862 in Belgium, while visiting Bertie’s great-uncle Leopold.  The couple had met for the first time in Germany the previous year.  Albert’s death had both postponed and sped up the proposal.  Albert had indicated before his death that he hoped Bertie would choose Alexandra as his bride, but the death itself made it improper to ask within the first few months. Bertie’s sister Alice’s wedding in July 1862 had taken much the same course – she was already engaged and Albert had approved of the marriage so it needed to happen – but it was conducted with practically the least amount of celebration and joy ever for a royal wedding.  Victoria knew that Bertie must marry sooner that later or lose Alexandra, but she refused to allow herself or anyone else to excessively celebrate the event. 

As with the children-in-law (and grandchildren-in-law) before and after, Victoria summoned Alexandra to come to Britain for a visit before the wedding.  Alexandra did make the trip to Osborne in November 1862, spending a few weeks reading, drawing, practicing her English, and chatting with her future mother-in-law.  Alexandra made an excellent impression by wearing a black armband in honor of her deceased father-in-law; Victoria remembered the gesture for years after.  Having a cheerful young woman in the house seems to have had a good effect on Victoria, as during Alexandra’s visit she was said to have laughed for the first time since Albert’s death.

The couple was separated for a few months more before the wedding.  All the while letters passed between London and Copenhagen, with Bertie detailing all of the preparations being made on their homes.   The new couple would live at Marlborough House in London, while their country home was at Sandringham in Norfolk.  Both properties needed significant remodeling, and Bertie was eager to use his income on his owns terms and his own property.  Alexandra, who had grown up in near poverty by royal standards, was delighted with her new wealth.

For all of her fighting words above, Victoria insisted on planning the wedding.  Of course, this was probably also so she could mute the celebrations that would typically go with the marriage of a Prince of Wales.  The wedding was scheduled to take place in March so as to coincide with Lent.  Although this was normally not allowed in the Church of England, special arrangements were made for Victoria to again cut down on excessive celebrations.

The ceremony was planned for St. George’s Chapel at Windsor Castle; a royal wedding had not been held there since the Middle Ages.  The venue was difficult to reach and had little room for all of the expected visitors – which is likely exactly what Victoria had in mind.  She wanted as private a wedding as possible, and if a wedding as small and somber as Alice’s had been could not be managed, then Victoria would at least make sure it was as unassuming as possible.  Bertie was informed that due to the small size of the chapel, he was only allowed to invite six of his friends, and only Alexandra’s immediately family was invited – this did not include the Danish king.

(Alexandra's arrival in Gravesend.  Portrait by Henry Nelson O'Neil; photo credit: Wikipedia)

Angry that no part of the wedding would take place in the city, Londoners made grand plans for Alexandra’s entrance to Britain.  Alexandra and her family arrived at Gravesend, Kent aboard the royal yacht Victoria and Albert on March 6 amid triumphal arches, flags, costumes, and music.  Bertie, excited to see his fiancée and loving the celebration, ran up the gangway to meet Alexandra, kissing her to the crowd’s delight.  A train took the bridal party to London, where the Lord Mayor welcomed them in medieval dress.  The couple then took a tour by carriage, accompanied by the cheers of countless spectators, more bands, and champagne. 

We’ll visit the preparations for Bertie’s and Alexandra’s wedding more in the coming weeks.  But while Victoria hid at Windsor, depriving her people of their Queen, Londoners were at least given a romantic show for the arrival of their future Princess of Wales.  As she prepared for a wedding with all the joy of a funeral, London society would finally be getting some life breathed back into it with the coming of the new Prince and Princess of Wales.

Although February 4, 1863, may not have been a good one for Victoria, that same day in 2014 is sure to be an excellent one for Broken Bells.  Their second LP, After the Disco, is released today.  The first single, “Holding on For Life,” was released back in November.  You know, now that I think about it, that song is probably apropos of Victoria’s state of mind during 1863 as well.  Do you think Broken Bells are making secret soundtracks to things a la Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon and The Wizard of Oz? 

(Go to bed, Emily.)

"...be happy and succeed in all you undertake!"

Queen Victoria to Princess Victoria

Buckingham Palace, February 2, 1858

My first occupation on this sad, sad day – is to write to you.  An hour is already past since you left – and I trust that you are recovering a little, but then will come that awful separation from dearest Papa!  How I wish that was over for you, my beloved child!  I struggle purposely against my feelings not to be too much overcome by them, as it is our duty to do, but I feel very sick when I think all, all is past, all that seemed so distant, all the excitement, everything – and nothing here by a sad, sad blank!  Yes it is cruel, very cruel – very trying for parents to give up their beloved children, and to see them go away from the happy peaceful home – where you used all to be around us!  That is broken in, and you, though always our own dear child, and always able to be at home in your parents’ house, are no longer one of the many, merry children who used to gather so fondly round us!

But we have such reason to be thankful, very very thankful, and this will carry us over the first bitter moments of separation, which are bitter indeed, and the knowledge of your having such a very dear, kind, excellent, tender-hearted husband on whose bosom you can pour out every grief, whom we love and trust as our own son (indeed more than a son, for the husband of one’s own daughter stands to a mother, after her daughter, the nearest of anyone) is a comfort and a satisfaction and a relief which we do most truly realise and appreciate, and which will soothe our sorrow and our anxiety and enable us very soon to look with peace and pleasure (unmixed with the grief we now experience) which filled our hearts with such unbounded joy, when we saw you at Windsor – and since.  Those days at Windsor, so full of joyful recollections to you both, will ever remain most bright and happy ones to us!

It is snowing away and everything is white and dreary!  I could not go out – and shall see if I can this afternoon. 

Poor dear Alice, whose sobs must have gone to your heart – is sitting near me writing to you…Dearest, dearest child, may every blessing attend you both.  Continue as you have begun in private and public, and you will be happy and succeed in all you undertake!

5 o’clock

Dearest Papa came back at 4 very sad and gave me the touching details of the parting which I dreaded for you, my darling child, very much.  He told me also how gratifying the reception you met with and the sympathy shown by all was.  It is very, very gratifying and will I am sure make dear Fritz love our dear old England still more and make him wish to come back very often, and I hope for longer than his visits (two in a year) used to be!  I am already planning how we shall go to Germany. 

Your brothers are much affected, in particular dear Affie.

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(Vicky and Victoria shortly before the former's marriage.  Photo credit: dustontheshelves.blogspot.com)

Victoria writes this letter on the day that 17-year-old Vicky set sail for the country that she would call home for the rest of her life.  It’s not quite as simple as that – Victoria insisted that Vicky remember and remain the British Princess Royal even after she moved to Prussia, but nevertheless this was a big moment in the lives of these two women.  And as it happened, it is this move that began the 40 plus years of correspondence that is a huge inspiration/contributor for this blog. 

Vicky had married her beloved Fritz on January 25, 1858, after a 2.5 year engagement.  Despite the fact that Fritz was an heir presumptive of the Prussian throne, Victoria had steadfastly insisted that that Princess Royal marries in Britain and thus the wedding took place at the Chapel Royal in St. James’ Palace.  This was a marriage highly desired by both Victoria and Albert, both of whom hoped to simultaneously gain a powerful ally in Prussia and for Vicky and Fritz to tame Prussia’s militarism with their liberal ideas.  It’s clear from the tone of this letter that Victoria sees a very bright and auspicious future for her eldest daughter. 

One might think this was the first letter the Victoria wrote to Vicky after her marriage, but there was at least one other letter in which the Queen wrote her daughter that day, delivered to Vicky on her honeymoon.  Immediately after the wedding breakfast, Vicky and Fritz headed to Windsor for a two-day honeymoon, then back to London for the final festivities before the new couple took off for Berlin.  Victoria remarked in her journal that day that the couple seemed very happy with one another, but also noted that she hadn’t quite gotten used to seeing Vicky leave with Fritz at bedtime. 

Of her children, Victoria probably looked forward to Vicky’s marriage the most.  But as with the marriages of all of her daughters, Victoria felt she was permanently losing part of Vicky that she would never get back.  This seemed to be a real turning point in Victoria’s life; with the marriage of each successive daughter, Victoria enacted more and more restrictions until Beatrice – fortunate she was able to marry at all – never had a home of her own with her husband.

Vicky left Britain on a snowy and cold day in London.  For a family who was so close, the parting was a difficult one.  Victoria wrote in her journal:

We went into the Audience Room where Mama and all the Children were assembled and her poor Vicky and Alice’s as well as the other’s tears began to flow fast…Still I struggled but as I came to the staircase my breaking heart gave way.  The Hall was filled with all our people and their [the Prussians]…amongst the many servants there, I don’t think there was a dry eye.  Poor dear Child…I clasped her in my arms, not knowing what to say and kissed good Fritz, pressing his hand again and again…Again at the door of the carriage I embraced them both…What a dreadful moment, what I real heartache to think of our dearest child being gone and not knowing how long it may be before we see her again!

Vicky’s brothers Bertie and Affie, her father, and her great-uncle Adolphus, Duke of Cambridge saw the couple to Gravesend for their crossing to Antwerp.  All of the men cried along with Vicky at the thought of her parting with the exception of Albert, who embraced his daughter as she cried.  He wrote a very moving letter to her the next day describing how lonely he felt without her there. 

It was fortunate that Victoria and Albert felt they were putting their daughter in good hands with Fritz.  While Albert died just shy of four years after the wedding, Victoria continued to have a very warm relationship with Fritz (with the exception of a few spats throughout the years) until his death in 1888.  It is clear from Victoria’s words here just how much Fritz was considered part of the family and the love they had for him.  Victoria did create good relationships with sons-in-law Louis of Hesse and Henry of Battenberg as well, but none seemed quite as solid as her affection for Fritz. 

It is interesting how Victoria mentions the effects of Vicky’s departure on Alice.  The two girls had been quite close up until Vicky’s marriage, sharing a room, clothes, and lessons among other things.  Alice was suddenly the eldest daughter at home, and the eyes would be turning to her next to marry and leave home.  Although neither could know it at the time, Victoria became much closer to Alice over the next three years, with the latter becoming an invaluable confidante, unofficial secretary, and lifeboat in the dark months following Albert’s death. 

Victoria also seemed somewhat unnerved after the first year of Vicky’s marriage had passed; with Vicky’s troubles acclimatingto Berlin court life and the problematicbirth of her first child, the Queen started to wonder if Vicky had been too young to marry.  Although Victoria did urge Vicky to start poking around Germany for a spouse for Alice, she was not in as great a hurry to marry off Alice as she was Vicky.  After a promising meet up with a Dutch prince went bust, Alice did become engaged, although she was nearly 18 at the time, where as Vicky was not quite 15 when she did the same. 

It is easy to look at this letter as prophetic – that despite the fact that Vicky was so arduously prepared to change the world from Berlin, the impact she made was far from what her father had intended.  Or that the pain Victoria felt separating from her daughter was small potatoes to what she would feel just a few years later.  But at this point, in 1858, Victoria was another proud mother wishing her daughter all the happiness and success in the world as she started her new life.  From many of their letters we’ve already discussed, that warmth and love between Victoria and Vicky never faded.

Congratulations, your Majesty, for...giving Egypt to an Albanian?

Viscount Palmerston to Queen Victoria

Carlton Terrace, 1st February 1841

Viscount Palmerston presents his humble duty to your Majesty, and in submitting this letter from Earl Granville, which coupled with the despatches [sic] from Sir Robert Stopford virtually show that the Turkish Question is brought to a close, begs most humbly to congratulate your Majesty upon this rapid and peaceful settlement of a matter which at different periods has assumed appearances so threatening to the peace of Europe.

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(Muhammad Ali Pasha, part Peter the Great, part Joseph Stalin, part Leopold II of Belgium and all around despot.  Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Lord Palmerston is the origin of today’s entry, a peer who was something of a jack-of-all trades in the Victorian government, serving at various times as Prime Minister, Leader of the Opposition, Home Secretary, among others.  Palmerston was Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs in 1841.   During his time in office, Palmerston helped bring some protection to child queens Maria II of Portugal and Isabella II of Spain as well as (however uneasy) peace in the region.  He also participated in establishing the Kingdom of Belgium and in acquiring Hong Kong and forcing Chinese trade with Britain. 

But of greatest interest in 1840 and into 1841 was the Oriental Crisis of 1840, a political issue that was part of the larger Egyptian-Ottoman War.  In 1840, Egypt was technically still part of the Ottoman Empire, although it had been ruled semi-independently by a group of Egyptian nobles up until the end of the eighteenth century.  Following a brief period of French imperial rule, Egypt came under control of an Albanian-Ottoman military commander, Mehmet Ali Pasha or Muhammad Ali Pasha.  (Muhammad and Mehmet are spelled the same way in Arabic and Turkish, and there is apparently some disagreement on which is correct.  So I’m just going to call him MAP to split the difference.  It’s also much easier to type.)

Anyway, MAP had something of a Robin Hood/Pablo Escobar appeal to ordinary Egyptians who were sick of being passed around like a disease among the French, the Ottomans, and the nobility.  MAP was a foreigner, but a common man who apparently had some charm and excellent PR skills.  And so over the next thirty odd years, MAP became a leader who was sort of a combination of Peter the Great (he wanted to European-like militia in Egypt) and Joseph Stalin (collectivization of land and forced labor are AWESOME!).  So in other words, MAP was smart and ambitious, but not a guy you’d want as a boss.

In 1825, MAP provided assistance to the Ottomans fighting the Greeks in their war for independence.  MAP agreed to send his son Ibrahim to help, but only on the condition that MAP would receive Crete, Cyprus, Syria, and a chunk of southern Greece as his own personal domain.  In other words, MAP was trying to do what Leopold II of Belgium did in the Congo before Leopold was even born.  Initially Ibrahim was a smashing success in Greece until he was finally stopped for good near Mani, Greece. 

The war ended in Greek independence in 1832.  MAP thought he was still owed his territory because he did help as planned, but the Ottomans refused to give it to him.  So MAP decided to take Syria by force, capturing it from a very weakened Ottoman army.  This sparked the aforementioned Egyptian-Ottoman War, in which MAP’s forces (led again by Ibrahim) tore through the Ottoman military so definitively that by the summer of 1840 the entire Ottoman navy ended up defecting in fear and exhaustion.   

Although Britain, Russia, Prussia, Austria, and France had had some involvement in the area since the Greek war, MAP’s annihilation of the Ottomans made the European powers decide that it was finally time for an intervention.  (Right now I’m imagining Victoria, Tsar Alexander I of Russia, Ferdinand I of Austria, Friedrich Wilhelm IV of Prussia, and Sultan Abdul Mejid sitting around on couches, tearfully reading letters to a surly MAP of how his addiction to power had hurt him, and that he needed to go to rehab NOW or lose them forever.) The French had ambitions of their own in North Africa and had warmed up to the idea of siding with MAP against the Ottomans.  But when France realized that all of the other powers supported the Ottomans, the French relented and joined in the plans to halt MAP’s ambitions.

MAP was offered complete control of Egypt, Sudan, southern Syria, and part of modern day Israel as part of the Convention of London.  Signed in July 1840, the Convention stipulated that these territories would still technically be part of the Ottoman Empire, but MAP and his heirs would have total control.  MAP had just ten days to accept; if he delayed he would lose the Syrian portion of his proposed territory.  If he delayed ten more days, the entire deal was off.  MAP did not provide an answer, still believing that the French ambitions in Africa would cause them to jump ship and support his cause.  British and Austrian forces wasted no time in going after MAP, finally forcing him to surrender in Acre, Palestine in November 1840. 

MAP did indeed lose Syria and Crete and had to shrink his mighty military down to 18,000, but he and his heirs kept control of Egypt and Sudan.  MAP had gotten what he’d wanted, although his territory was not quite as large as he’d originally hoped.  This war over Egypt and Syria had also put one more giant chink in the armor of the once-mighty Ottoman Empire, now earning it the title of the “sick man of Europe.”

The Stopford to whom Palmerston mentions was Admiral Sir Robert Stopford, the British admiral who had led the forces that eventually took down MAP.  This naval battle was also notable in that it was said to be the first in which a military force made full use of steam power.  The Earl Granville was Palmerston’s under-Secretary at the time.  It is assumed that the letter of Granville’s in which Palmerston refers is the final memorandum on the Oriental Crisis of 1840.

I found myself a little puzzled at exactly what Palmerston is congratulating Victoria for in terms of the peace reached.  In her available letters during this time, she gave one very brief mention of the whole affair to Uncle Leopold.  It’s safe to assume that she was well-versed in what was happened throughout the course of events, but it seems to me that the bulk of the work probably fell to Palmerston, Granville, and then onto the military.  But I suppose Palmerston’s letter to Victoria wouldn’t have been as well-received if he’d congratulated himself, would it?