The Widow of Windsor

Chapter III THE FAMILY AT THE YELLOW PALACE

Seventeen years before the death of the Prince Consort, there was great expectation in the Yellow Palace on the Amaliegade Street in Copenhagen where Prince Christian and his wife Louise were expecting their second child. Their son Frederick, known as Fredy, was just a year old.

Christian and Louise were poor; the Yellow Palace did not belong to them and it was only by the grace of King Christian that they were allowed to occupy it; but they were in love and happy. Christian was not ambitious; Louise was more so; but in these early days of marriage her great desire was to have a family and live for them. So, in spite of the expense of a new baby the child would be warmly welcomed into the household.

Louise stood at the window, with little Fredy beside her, watching Christian leave for the barracks. He was tall and handsome and if he were poor she did not care, for besides being extremely good looking he was kind, gentle and as anxious as she was to bring up their family in a proper manner. They had often talked about the children they would have. Theirs should be a happy family, although of course the children would be reprimanded when necessary, even punished – but only in a manner which would be good for them.

Oh yes, they had often made plans for the family, and now Fredy was to be joined by a little brother or sister.

Christian turned to wave; his groom, whose livery, she noticed, should have been replaced some months ago, helped him on to his horse, bowed, and Christian waving to his wife at the window rode off.

She smiled, thinking of her tall blue-eyed husband, Prince Christian of Schleswig-Holstein-Sonderburg-Glücksburg – a very magnificent-sounding title for a penniless Prince. But they were fortunate because of the kindness of the King, which was good of him really for they had no claim on him. Christian was merely the fourth son of Duke Frederick of Schleswig-Holstein; and even the eldest son had inherited a bankrupt kingdom because the Napoleonic Wars had ruined them; but since there was a family connection, King Christian VIII had befriended his young namesake, had given him a commission in the Royal Guard and the Yellow Palace for his home.

They were lucky. The palace was not unlike a French château of the smaller type. One stepped into it straight from the street, entering by big gates which opened on to a courtyard. It was an exciting house, even though some of the rooms were small; there were odd winding staircases and passages and nooks and crannies in unexpected places. It was, in any case, a home, and they were grateful for it.

King Christian lived near by in the Royal Palace and Prince Christian and Louise were often invited to pay an informal visit; close by in an imposing mansion lived Louise’s parents – the Landgrave and Landgravine of Hesse-Cassel. The Landgravine had been Princess Charlotte, and was King Christian’s sister.

It was all rather cosy and informal for Charlotte was good to the family at the Yellow Palace and was constantly sending gifts and between the King and the Landgravine they just managed on Christian’s pay which was only ten pounds a month. Not very much to sustain life in a palace – even one such as the Yellow Palace – and maintain some semblance of royalty. But Prince Christian was happy; he was proud of his position in the Army; he had a wife whom he admired as well as loved, a son and another child on the way; he asked only to be able to keep them in comparative comfort.

Louise turned from the window. There were the servants to receive their orders – not many of them, only those whom her mother said she must have. Louise could manage very well. What a difference there had been in the Yellow Palace since she had taken over! Now all the cobwebs were swept away and the furniture shining; meals were served hot and promptly. She was a wonderful housewife.

The Landgravine tut-tutted and reminded her that she was the niece of the King, to which Louise replied gravely that she had reason to remember that with gratitude for to the King they owed their home and Christian’s post in the Guards so she was not likely to forget.

The Landgravine was impatient. ‘With your looks and your talents you should not be an ordinary hausfrau. And when I think of Frederick … the only heir to the throne, what will become of Denmark I can’t imagine!’

Frederick, the King’s only son, was a trial to everyone except himself of course and his cronies – and there were many of them. They consisted of the artists and writers with whom he liked to sit and drink, and his mistresses with whom he walked arm in arm through the streets; or if they were shopping he would carry their parcels for them like any bourgeois husband. Frederick was a scandal in the royal family.

But she and her little family were aloof from royalty in a way. They rarely went to Court functions simply because they wouldn’t have the suitable clothes and jewels. Even in the regiment Christian was poor. But who cared? Certainly they did not.

Life in Copenhagen was full of interest. She had enjoyed taking Fredy down to the harbour and showing him the big ships – Danish some of them, others coming in from all over the world. She would walk along the Sund pushing her son in his baby carriage like any matron of the town.

And now there would be another child.

She turned away from the window, shivering a little for it was very cold. Soon it would be Christmas. The baby should arrive a few weeks before the festival, she hoped. How wonderful that would be. Little Fredy would have his first Christmas tree and a little brother or sister as well.

The next day, which was the first of December, her child was born. It was a girl.

There was a great deal of discussion about the child’s name, between her parents that was. She was not considered to be of sufficient significance for the King or the Landgravine and her husband to think it mattered what she was called.

Louise, however, suggested that it would be a pleasant gesture to name her Alexandra after the sister of Alexander of Russia who had been married to her brother and had recently died.

Christian said this was a capital idea; he usually thought Louise’s ideas were capital. So the name was decided on. It was to be Alexandra Caroline Marie Charlotte Louise Julie.

‘Now,’ said Christian, ‘everybody can be satisfied.’

The King was kind and professed to be very interested in the child’s birth. He said she must have the silver gilt font for her baptism which was always used by members of the royal family.

Young Christian and Louise expressed their gratitude, the font was sent to the Yellow Palace and Alexandra was baptised.

How pleasant to have another child. Little Fredy was delighted. He couldn’t say Alexandra but he managed Alix and from then on the baby was known by that name.

Louise wheeled her round to the grandparents’ palace which was only a short distance away. The Landgravine was delighted with her granddaughter and had presents waiting for her and some extra money for her daughter which she presented with the comment, ‘How you manage, my dear, I do not know.’

But Louise smiled serenely and assured her mother that she managed adequately and repeated that the generosity of the King and herself made life quite easy for them.

The old Landgrave was less amiable but he loved his daughter. He was quick-tempered and somewhat eccentric; he spent hours in his enormous library reading the books in the order of which they had been acquired and placed on the shelves.

He peered at the baby and declared that she was unattractive.

‘Take it away,’ he said. ‘I don’t want to look at that ugly little thing.’

The Landgravine smiled at her daughter. ‘Don’t take any notice of Papa,’ she said.

‘But ugly, Mama!’ cried Louise indignantly. ‘Alix is beautiful.’

‘What a good thing all babies are to their mamas. Never mind, my dear, the plain babies often turn out to be the prettiest women in the long run.’

Louise was astonished. She and Christian had thought their daughter the most wonderful child on earth … as wonderful as Fredy of course.

She would not bring Alix to see the Landgrave again in a hurry.

Alix’s first memories of Rumpenheim were of the time when she was three years old. Rumpenheim was a beautiful castle on the banks of the River Main, not very far from the town of Frankfurt; the gardens were beautifully laid out, the rooms much larger than those of the Yellow Palace. Rumpenheim was like something out of a fairy tale.

Nor was it only the house and the gardens which were so entrancing. There were so many people staying at the castle and they all knew each other and at reunions they greeted each other with demonstrations of great affection. When Alix was introduced to them, they kissed her, gave her presents and talked to her about Copenhagen and the Yellow Palace and the Sund.

Who were these people? she asked her mother.

Louise, who liked her children to ask intelligent questions, replied that they were all members of her family and the reason they came to Rumpenheim in the summer was that Louise’s grandfather, the Landgrave of Hesse, had left the castle to his family on the condition that, during the summer months, some members of the family were always at the castle.

What a wonderful grandfather he must have been! commented Alix.

Her own family had grown in the last few years and she had a little brother William (called Willy) and there was a new baby girl, Dagmar. She loved them all dearly and it was a wonderful cosy feeling to belong to such a family.

At Rumpenheim was her cousin Princess Mary of Cambridge, who lived in England and was very attractive in Alix’s eyes. She seemed quite old, being thirteen, and she and Alix took to each other from the start. Mary asked permission to wheel the baby Dagmar in her carriage about the grounds and this was given; so while Mary wheeled Dagmar, Alix would trot along beside her and sometimes Mary would lift up Alix and set her in the carriage opposite Dagmar and push them both.

Because Mary was that wonderful being, not quite an adult and certainly not a child, Alix could feel less restricted in her company than she did in that of grown-ups and at the same time draw on that inexhaustible fund of knowledge which seemed to be Mary’s.

Mary explained the complicated ties which made them related. Her ancestor King George III of England had had fifteen children, nine sons and six daughters; one of these sons was Adolphus, Duke of Cambridge. He married Princess Augusta, who was the daughter of Frederick, Landgrave of Hesse-Cassel. It was this Frederick who had given Rumpenheim to his family. Frederick’s eldest son had married Alix’s mother’s mother. So Alix would see the family connection between herself and Mary.

It was very complicated for the little girl to understand but it gave her such a nice warm rich feeling to know that Mary Adelaide was a kind of cousin and that there would be many more summers spent at delightful Rumpenheim.

Dagmar sat solemnly in her carriage. Poor Dagmar, thought Alix, who could not join in this fascinating conversation.

Everyday, after lessons, for Louise insisted that there should be lessons even at Rumpenheim, and it was one of her maxims that children were never too young to learn, Alix would seek out Mary and this wonderful thirteen-year-old cousin seemed to find greater pleasure in the company of the child than in that of relations nearer her own age.

While the children played, their elders discussed serious matters and the affairs of Denmark at this time were giving some cause for alarm.

The Landgravine Charlotte in her apartments at the palace talked of this with her daughter Louise, for she said they were of greater concern to them than to any of the other members of the family who were at Rumpenheim at this time.

‘King Christian cannot live much longer,’ said Charlotte. ‘And then … Frederick.’

‘It is alarming to think of it,’ agreed Louise.

‘And trouble is brewing all over Europe. There are revolutionary pamphlets being distributed everywhere. They are particularly virulent in France, but I don’t think for one moment that Denmark can escape.’

‘The King, unfortunately, is not popular,’ said Louise. ‘And he won’t be until he gives the people the constitution they want.’

‘Which he feels, with some reason, would put his crown in jeopardy if he granted it.’

‘It may well be a question of granting it or losing his crown.’

Charlotte looked with approval at her daughter. She was talented and intelligent; if she were heir to the throne, how much happier for Denmark. But Frederick, with his loose living and his immoral friends, was the heir and Louise was nothing more than a housewife.

‘What will happen when Frederick comes to the throne I tremble to think,’ said Charlotte. ‘I have tried to talk of these matters with your father but his temper is so quick and all he thinks of is his library, so that it is quite impossible to discuss them with him.’

There is one thing that has struck me, Mother,’ said Louise. ‘If the King dies, what will become of Christian’s position in the Army? What if we should be turned out of the Yellow Palace!’

‘That would be most unpleasant,’ said the Landgravine Charlotte. ‘You could of course come to us but I don’t know what your father would say to noisy children playing in the gardens.’

‘We can only wait and see what happens,’ said Louise philosophically, ‘for there is nothing we can do about it.’

But she was uneasy and so those summer days at Rumpenheim were not so idyllic to her as they were to her little daughter.

When the King asked his sister Charlotte to call on him at the Royal Palace she sensed his anxiety immediately.

‘You look well,’ he told her. ‘Rumpenheim has done you good.’

‘It always does,’ she told him. ‘I was glad that Louise and the children were able to stay. It’s so good for them to get away from the Yellow Palace.’

The King nodded. ‘Louise is a clever girl. You must be proud of her.’ He spoke wistfully and Charlotte knew he was thinking of the unsatisfactory Frederick.

The King was a good man, but it was a pity his personality was not one to please the people. He was so reserved that he appeared to be unfriendly. It didn’t matter that he was ready to sacrifice a good deal for the benefit of Denmark, and the reason he did not wish to grant the country a constitution was because he knew it was not prepared for it yet. He had not that natural bonhomie which people demanded in their rulers and it seemed they would prefer a rogue with it, than an idealist without it.

‘It’s a pity,’ said Charlotte, ‘that they find it so difficult to make ends meet. But she is an excellent manager and I think Christian realises his good fortune in marrying her.’

‘How I wish Frederick could have been as fortunate.’

‘Perhaps he would not have realised the worth of such a wife.’

‘He seems to be keeping with this new woman.’

‘And indulging in adventures meanwhile.’

‘Frederick calls himself the cosmopolitan bohemian.’

‘And this Louise Rasmussen. I hear she was a Parisian midinette. Is that true?’

‘She has also had a post as governess, and she has been a ballet dancer, so she is a woman of many parts. She is well known because they are seen strolling together arm in arm or he waits patiently while she shops and then carries the parcels home for her.’

‘Quite domesticated. I should hardly have thought Frederick was that.’

‘Frederick is anything that is not usual. I do wonder what will happen, Charlotte, when I’m dead.’

‘Frederick will come to the throne.’

‘But what will become of Denmark under such a king?’

‘Denmark has had some unworthy kings and managed to survive.’

‘The great point is that he has no heir and he never will have one.’

‘Is that quite out of the question?’

‘My dear sister, he has been divorced three times. Each of his wives was selected for her suitability and what was the result – no heirs, no marriage – for each one of them has ended. He cannot marry this woman he is now living with. Even Frederick must see that we cannot have a French midinette for Queen of Denmark. So when I die and Frederick comes to the throne there will be no heir to follow him. There could not be a more disastrous state of affairs. Schleswig-Holstein is always ready to give us trouble. What would happen, do you think, if Frederick died and there was no one to follow him? I can tell you, sister, that I have spent some sleepless nights over this matter.’

‘Do you think Frederick should marry again?’

The King shook his head. ‘Even so, I don’t think there would be a child. We were talking about Louise. She is astute; she is clever.’

‘Louise! How could Louise come into this?’

‘You are forgetting that as my sister you are in the line of succession. If Frederick should produce no heirs you could be the Queen of Denmark.’

‘I! Oh no, impossible! I should not be fitted for the task.’

‘I knew you would say that, Charlotte, and that is why I asked you to come here to discuss this plan of mine. I want you to claim the throne. I want you to be recognised as the heir provided Frederick does not produce a son; then I suggest that you pass your claim to Louise. Louise has a husband. He is not exactly brilliant but he is adequate. He is honest, good-looking and capable. With Louise to guide him he would be a good King.’

‘Louise and Christian, Queen and King of Denmark!’

‘Why not? I should feel much happier if they were next in succession than I do now with Frederick in that position.’

Charlotte was thoughtful. She had always said that she did not wish her daughter to degenerate into an ordinary hausfrau; as Queen of Denmark she would hardly do that. One might say she would be ruler of Denmark, because it was certain that she would be the one who guided her husband.

‘I see,’ said her brother, ‘that you are not displeased with my idea. Good. I will put it before my ministers.’

Prince Christian rode into the courtyard. It was noon; he always came in at precisely the same time. Louise often said that he was obsessed by time. ‘Punctuality is high on the list of good manners,’ he was fond of declaring. ‘One should never be even one minute late.’

His custom was to take off his uniform, put on a loose jerkin and go to a room which he called the gymnasium. There at precisely twenty minutes past twelve the children must assemble. He would then conduct physical jerks, which he said must be performed every day and were very necessary to good health.

Louise, who had been waiting for him, saw him arrive and hurried into the bedroom where he was changing his uniform.

‘Christian,’ she said, ‘I must speak to you.’

He looked at his watch. ‘After the exercises,’ he said. ‘There is no time now.’

‘This is more important than the exercises, Christian. My mother called this morning. I have had a very serious talk with her. It concerns our future.’

Christian paused as he was taking off his coat to look at her and an anxious frown furrowed his brow. He was always afraid that they were going to be turned out of the Yellow Palace and such news could very likely come through Louise’s mother.

Her next words made him feel that there was some foundation for his misgivings. ‘She came from the King, who is convinced that Frederick cannot produce an heir. On his death the throne will go to my mother and she will renounce it in favour of me.’

‘Good God!’

‘Yes, Christian, and I am to renounce it in favour of you.’

‘Me! King of Denmark!’

‘That’s what it would appear.’

‘Impossible!’

‘No, Christian, quite possible.’

‘A penniless, obscure member of the family!’

‘You would be neither if you were King.’

‘I couldn’t do it.’

‘Yes, you could, Christian, because I should be there.’

He looked at her and smiled slowly. ‘I believe you would be capable of anything.’

‘Do you think you would be a worse king than Frederick will be?’

‘He’s the King’s son. I’m not.’

‘There would be wonderful opportunities for the children.’

The children.’ Christian looked at his watch.

‘It’s all right,’ said Louise calmly. ‘You have ten minutes yet. We have four children – two boys and two girls. What do you think their prospects are going to be in our present circumstances?’

‘If they are happy that’s all I shall ask.’

‘There is no reason why they shouldn’t be happy and well placed. The two can go together and although in some cases poverty doesn’t prevent happiness, everybody is the better for not having to wonder whether they are going to have the roof over their heads suddenly removed.’

It was a sobering thought. But King! He was not suited for the role. He didn’t want it. He wanted to go on living quietly with his pleasant little family and his clever Louise.

His spirits lifted. It was a crazy notion. It would never come to pass. Frederick wouldn’t agree. He would marry and produce an heir. There was no need to worry unduly.

He looked again at his watch.

‘You will get there just in time,’ said Louise with a smile, and as he hastily slipped into his sporting clothes she couldn’t help marvelling at his lack of ambition. But it was gratifying in one way. It showed clearly that he had not married her because of her relationship to the King but because he had fallen in love with her. Wasn’t that better than ambition?

The children were waiting for him – with one exception. Alix.

He looked at his watch. It was exactly twenty minutes past twelve.

‘Where is your sister?’ he asked.

Willy said she was coming, she really was. Poor Willy, he always made excuses for Alix. But almost immediately Alix was there, breathless and so pretty that her father’s heart lifted with pride at the sight of her.

He forced himself to look stern. ‘You are one minute late.’

‘Yes, Papa.’

‘Why should you be one minute late?’

‘Well, Papa, I was playing with my doll and I had to put her away and …’

Christian shook his head sadly. ‘You must learn to be punctual, my child. It’s not the first time this has happened. If it happens again I shall have to punish you.’

All the children looked suitably horrified, except Alix who could not believe that dear kind Papa could really punish anybody. Mama could be much more stern.

‘Well,’ said Christian, ‘we must waste no more time. Take your place.’

So Alix stood in line and the children lifted their arms, touched the floor, swung this way and that, skipped and jumped; and it was all very exciting. Even Baby Dagmar did her best to follow them.

Then Christian stood on his hands and turned a somersault. Let them all try and do that. They did. Alix was best at it.

She stood on her hands, her skirts fallen over her face, her legs in their pantaloons waving in the air.

‘Bravo, Alix!’ cried Christian. ‘Now, you boys, you’re not going to let your sister beat you, are you?’

So the boys turned their somersaults and it was all very exhilarating.

‘Stand at ease,’ commanded Christian, and there they stood, little Dagmar imitating the others, a fine little family.

What did he want with a crown and the anxieties of government which went with it? This was his little world and he loved it.

No cause for anxiety, he assured himself. It was a crazy notion which would come to nothing. He thought he was right for when the King put his idea of the succession to his ministers it was shrugged aside and the matter rested there.

There was a new King in Denmark. When King Christian had felt that his end was near he had been right. His son Frederick now ruled Denmark.

‘What will become of us now?’ said Louise to her husband. ‘Frederick may well turn us out of the Yellow Palace. Where shall we go? We can of course take refuge in my parents’ home, but I do hope, Christian, that it won’t come to that.’

The country was in a state of great unrest – nor was it the only one. Revolution was sweeping across Europe. The French monarch was deposed; there was trouble in England where the Chartists were in revolt and there had been an occasion when it was thought they were marching on Buckingham Palace.

Frederick – not the most attractive of monarchs – arrived in Copenhagen. He was no blond Scandinavian giant, but short, plump, hook-nosed and swarthy. His father had divorced his mother and there were rumours that Frederick was not in fact Christian’s son – and it seemed not unlikely for Frederick was the complete antithesis of King Christian. Christian had cared passionately for Denmark; Frederick was indifferent. Christian had refused to grant the country the constitution which all countries were seeking from their kings. What of Frederick?

At his first council meeting he was bland and careless. The people wanted a constitution? Then certainly they must have a constitution. He would not stand in their way. If by any chance they, like the rest of Europe, were tired of kings they had only to say so. He would retire to his estates in the country; he was quite ready to take on the life of an ordinary nobleman which he assured them was far more comfortable than that of a king.

Would he marry? they wanted to know. No, he would not marry. Would he give up his mistress? No, he would not do that either. If they wished for a conventional king who would give them their constitution and an heir they had only to say so and he would happily abdicate.

The people were nonplussed. They had been ready to plunge into revolution, to drive the new King from his newly acquired throne, but how could they when he had no desire to retain it and was ready to save them the trouble of revolution by immediate abdication?

They were amused. He had promised them their constitution. Let them accept it and with it their new King, who was colourful and made them laugh. They quickly discovered that they were content with their King.

So, much to the surprise of all those who had feared that Frederick’s accession might precipitate the country into revolution, he became in a few days more popular than his father had ever been.

The people of Denmark wanted no revolution. They had their new constitution and they wanted Frederick as the King, for it was quite clear that he was going to be a very free and easy monarch with the gift of amusing them by his unconventional behaviour.

Frederick showed no surprise at their attitude. He settled into the Royal Palace with his ex-midinette and they were often seen strolling along the streets of Copenhagen much to the amusement of the people.

He quickly realised the anxiety of the family at the Yellow Palace and one day in his unceremonious manner he called.

Christian was in the middle of giving the gymnastic lesson and the King, having told the servant not to announce him, stood at the door watching them.

‘I wish I could do that!’ he cried.

Christian stood on ceremony; the children were very still.

‘No need to stand on ceremony,’ said Frederick.

But Christian signed to them to bow and curtsey.

‘His Majesty has honoured us with a visit,’ he said.

‘You’d better call me Uncle Frederick,’ replied the King.

Louise came hurrying in.

‘Your Majesty …’

Frederick smiled. ‘I wanted to have a talk with you,’ he explained.

‘Then if you will come into the drawing-room … They should not have let you come in unannounced.’

‘Oh, don’t worry. I’m not used yet to being treated like a king.’

Christian dismissed the children. Alix took Dagmar by the hand and led her away, the boys following.

‘Nice little family,’ said the King. ‘Pretty little girls.’

Christian and Louise exchanged glances. They couldn’t help wondering whether this visit meant they were going to be told they could no longer have the Yellow Palace. But surely if this had been the case someone else would have told them? But how could they be sure with a king as unconventional as Frederick.

In the drawing-room Frederick sprawled on the sofa as he spoke, pulling at the place there which Louise herself had darned.

‘Don’t imagine,’ he said, ‘that my coming to the throne makes any difference as far as this place is concerned. It’s yours while you want it.’

The relief was too intense to hide.

‘My place in the Guards …’ began Christian.

‘You don’t think I want to disband my army and lose my best men,’ said Frederick with a grin. ‘There’s a possibility that you will be heir to the throne, you know.’

‘Oh no, Your Majesty will have sons.’

‘I think that’s hardly likely. I’d have to find a wife first, wouldn’t I? As a matter of fact I’m going to marry Countess Danner.’ He laughed. ‘You look surprised. Perhaps you know her better as Mademoiselle Louise Rasmussen. I’ve just made her a Countess. But of course they’d call that a morganatic marriage, wouldn’t they, and even if we had children they wouldn’t be allowed to inherit.’ He pointed gleefully at Christian. ‘You may well be for it, my boy. So enjoy your freedom from the affairs of state while you can.’

A very undignified monarch, thought Louise. When her Christian was King – which he might well be – it would be a very different matter. She was secretly elated because her eldest son Frederick could very likely in due course follow his father and be King of Denmark.

In the meantime there was nothing to worry about. The country was no longer on the edge of revolution and the new King was even more benevolent than the old.

There was tension throughout the Yellow Palace. Fredy knew why. It was war. He whispered it to Alix in the little room which she shared with Dagmar. Funny Uncle Frederick would put on his beautiful coat with all the gold braid and buttons and the medals and march to war. Papa would go with him because he was a soldier.

‘Bang, bang,’ said Fredy. ‘Then Uncle Frederick and Papa will come home and all the bands will play and we’ll stand on the balcony and watch.’

Alix listened wide-eyed to Fredy’s account of what war meant.

In the privacy of their room Louise tried to conceal her anxiety even from her husband. Christian, with his particular buoyancy and innocent outlook on life, believed that the war would soon be over. Louise, more realistic, was not so sure.

She tried to assess what would happen to her family if Frederick was defeated. Also she feared for her husband. Christian, good soldier that he was, had no desire to go to war because it meant leaving his family. His idea of being a soldier was to report to the barracks daily and come home to teach gymnastics and bring his children up with the aid of their clever mother. To leave them now was a tragedy. His great consolation was that they would be in the capable hands of their mother.

‘It was bound to come sooner or later,’ said Louise. ‘Schleswig-Holstein has always been a source of anxiety to Denmark. It has been boiling for years.’

‘And now, of course, with Frederick’s accession, the Holsteiners have used this as an opportunity.’

Louise nodded. The position of Schleswig-Holstein, lying to the south of Denmark as a border to the German states, was in itself provocative. The trouble was that while Schleswig was content to be under Danish rule, Holstein was not. The Holsteiners preferred to consider themselves Germans, so there was friction and the Holsteiners were constantly attempting to persuade the people of Schleswig to their way of thinking.

One member of the royal family of Oldenburg, a branch of the royal family, was the Duke of Augustenburg, who had in fact a claim to the Danish throne. With German support he decided to make a bid for it. Hence the war which had broken out.

‘If the people of Holstein should win …’ began Louise.

‘That’s impossible,’ declared Christian.

‘It’s all very well for you to be loyal to your country,’ said Louise rather impatiently, ‘but what if they get help from some of the German states? Could Denmark stand up against that? And what sort of commander is Frederick going to be?’

Louise could not bear to think of the defeat of the Danish armies. If Duke Christian of Augustenburg defeated Frederick he would most certainly become at least heir to the Danish throne which would mean that Louise’s husband and her son would be passed over. She realised how dear that project had become to her since it had been suggested to her by her mother through the last King. There was a more immediate problem. If the war were lost what would become of her family? They would most certainly be turned out of the Yellow Palace and Christian would no longer have a post in the Army.

It was a gloomy prospect.

‘Let us pray,’ she said, ‘that this war will soon be over.’

The children assembled in the music room while Louise sat at the piano and they all sang hymns. The ‘God help us’ kind of hymns, said Alix to Fredy, which meant that people were frightened because they always asked God’s help then in a special sort of way.

Their father read to them from the Bible and that too was all about God’s helping them in their battles.

Fredy had made war sound rather glorious but Alix sensed that her parents’ attitude was rather different.

Shortly afterwards their father left with the Army.

‘I’ll soon be back,’ he told them.

But the war dragged on, and it was three years before it was over.