Queen Victoria's Granddaughters
By 1914, through a series of dynastic marriages, the Queen’s granddaughters included the Empress of Russia, the Queens of Spain, Greece and Norway, and the Crown Princesses of Roumania and Sweden. As their brothers and cousins occupied the thrones of Germany, Britain and Denmark, Prince Albert’s dream of a peaceful Europe created through bonds of kinship seemed a real possibility. Yet in little more than a decade after Queen Victoria’s death, the Prince Consort’s dream would lie shattered in the carnage of the First World War.
Born into eight very different families, the upbringing and fortunes of Queen Victoria's grandsons varied widely. Some died in childhood, some were killed in action, and others lived to see grandchildren of their own. There were heroes and villains, valiant soldiers and dissipated youths, but their lives were interconnected through the tiny Queen for whom their welfare and happiness was a constant preoccupation. As part of a wide, extended family, they lived through the halcyon days of the late nineteenth century European monarchies, witnessing the most spectacular and the most tragic events of the age.
Throughout her lonely and isolated childhood, with only her dogs and dolls for company, Queen Victoria relished the visits of her cousins, many of whom she came to regard as surrogate brothers and sisters. From the newly-created Empire of Mexico, to the largely undiscovered African Congo, their influence crossed continents; and their lives, spanning more than a century, were interwoven with some of the most significant events of the age. With several, Queen Victoria maintained a lifelong correspondence, while others were gradually distanced from her. All, however, contributed something to her life’s experience, and many repaid her devotion with love.
Biographies
Of all Queen Victoria’s nine children, none was more intriguing than her second daughter, Alice. The contradictions in her personality are so striking that, while she has often been overshadowed by her more illustrious brother, King Edward VII, and her brilliant sister, the German Empress Frederick, she remains to this day an enigma, the depths of whose character are virtually impossible to penetrate. By the time of her premature death at the age of only thirty-five, Alice had lived through two wars, had lost two of her children, and had exhausted herself in her devotion to duty to the extent that she suffered from disillusionment almost to the point of despair. Nonetheless, in the final tragic weeks of her life, she met unimaginable grief with courage and serenity, and her last words demonstrated her ultimate redemption and the beautiful restoration of all she had loved and lost.
On a bright summer’s day in June 1887, a procession of mounted kings and princes moved sedately through the streets of London in celebration of Queen Victoria’s Golden Jubilee. Amid such illustrious company, all eyes were drawn to the ‘towering Lohengrin-like figure’ of the future German Emperor Frederick III in his imperial helmet, silver breastplate and the brilliant white uniform of the Cuirassier Guards. The cheering crowds could never have believed that he had less than a year to live, or that ‘our Fritz’, the hero of Koniggrätz, Worth and Sedan, would soon appear as little more than a silent portrait hanging on the walls of history. So often throughout his life, duty, modesty and loyalty obliged him to remain silent, concealing his own achievements and stifling his opinions. Tragically, when at last he was free to speak with authority, he was rendered voiceless by a painful and debilitating illness. To those who knew him well, however, he truly deserved the epithet, ‘Frederick the Noble’, whose heroic stoicism in the face of suffering was equal to, and even surpassed, his courage on the battlefield.
Christina Croft