King George V
Part Four, Chapter Eight: An Answer to Prayer
Among the extended royal party in Russia for the State Visit of King George V in 1845 was William Mansfield, then serving as an Equerry to His Majesty – but not entirely happily. Mansfield descended from a family of distinguished figures in the legal profession, but his great dream was to travel the world with the British Army. Educated at the Royal Military College at Sandhurst, he had met George V there when the young King was allowed to carry out a brief spell of army training before his first marriage. The two had become firm friends and that being the case, the King wanted to keep ‘Willo’ close when he left Sandhurst. So it was that Mansfield found himself (somewhat unexpectedly) living the life of a junior courtier rather than that of a soldier. For a time, William was happy to accept this. He travelled widely with the King, he lived comfortably in a grace and favour property on the Windsor estate, and he was enormously fond of George who valued William’s friendship and advice. Yet the arrival of Lord Beauclerk to the King’s Household seemed to put Mansfield’s nose out of joint. Mansfield had always assumed that when Major Billy Smith retired (which could not be far off), he would step into his shoes as Crown Equerry. Yet the dynamic had changed in recent years with Smith as secure in his position as ever and with the King relying far more on Charlie Phipps than he ever had Willo Mansfield. When Lord Beauclerk was promoted above Mansfield (and included in the royal party for the State Visit to Russia), Mansfield seems to have decided that his time at court was now at an end.
Mansfield had decided by mid-1845 that he wished to return to the British Army. In July 1844, his old regiment (the 53rd Foot) had returned to India amid growing tensions with the Sikh Empire [1]. A year later, war seemed inevitable and Mansfield wanted the chance to play his part, exchanging the palace ballroom for an army camp. When this was first put to the King, he asked Mansfield to wait until the Russian State Visit had been concluded before making any arrangements. But if anything, the State Visit only made Mansfield more certain that a life at court was not for him. With the Tsar avoiding any diplomatic talks (the very reason for the visit in the first place), the royal party had been restricted to a week of parties and balls which didn’t exactly make the most of Mansfield’s talents. Increasingly bored, Mansfield took advantage of a lull in the proceedings to dine with Lord Morpeth and lay out his situation, asking for his support if Willo should offer his resignation to the King. Morpeth quite understood Mansfield’s frustration. Here was a well-educated man of 26 who had stalled a promising military career to make up the numbers at bridge. When Mansfield mentioned the possibility of going to India however, Morpeth suddenly took more of a keen interest in William’s plans for the future.
William Mansfield, photographed in 1859.
Though his priority was Russian affairs (and though some would later argue his priority should have been the worrying situation in Ireland), Morpeth was naturally thinking of the British position in India as all hope of a new agreement with the Russians seem to fade by the hour. If the Tsar would not play ball, the British would have to find some other way of strengthening their position in the region and Morpeth believed he had found a “Plan B” that offered the United Kingdom a chance to get back some of what it had lost with the disaster of Bala Hissar and the growing Russian dominance over Afghanistan and it’s surrounding territories. Undoubtedly the Tsar would make advances in Bukhara now that he had a pretext on which to act without inviting international scorn. But that did not mean that the British simply had to sit by and let the Russians have it all their own way. Anticipating that Nicholas I would prove a difficult negotiator, Morpeth had drawn up a secret proposal to pursue upon his return to England that he believed would offer the government the diplomatic victory it needed, one which would remind the Russians that the British were very much still players of the ‘Great Game’ whilst at the same time boosting fortunes in British India.
Morpeth knew of the animosity that existed between King Mohammed of Afghanistan and his son Wazir Akbar Khan. The former cared only about the stability of his throne and in his view, increasing threats from within his Kingdom and growing tensions from without were urgent national priorities that left little time for anything else. He had been happy to submit to Russian demands knowing that the Tsar would rush to aid and put down such threats thus keeping the Afghan Crown safely in the hands of the Barakzais for another generation. But Wazir Akbar Khan (supported by his uncle Sultan Mohammed Khan), believed that the stability of the throne should not be gambled on Russian protection alone. They feared that when the Tsar had what he wanted in the region, he would cut the Barakzais loose and leave them to be toppled, thus allowing the Russians to swoop in and seize control of Kabul – permanently. For Akbar Khan and Mohammed Khan, restoring Afghan territory to its previous heights was vital both economically and politically. They believed that taking back the lost city of Peshawar would be an enormous boost for the dynasty’s fortunes but that it would also secure Afghanistan’s borders and increase her trading opportunities for many years to come - without Russian involvement. When King Mohammed ordered his son to turn his attentions from Peshawar and the Sikhs and to focus instead on accommodating increased numbers of Russian troops ahead of a clash with Bukhara, it appears Akbar Khan reached the end of his tether.
Akbar Khan was not naturally inclined to reach out to the British. He had fought against them at Bala Hissar and popular legend had it that he had personally dispatched 50 British officers with his pulwar during the siege. Yet he understood that politics could shift suddenly and unexpectedly and encouraged by his uncle Sultan Mohammed, the two began to consider the possibility of reaching out secretly to their old enemies to discuss how Afghanistan might be of use to the British against the Sikh Empire – in exchange for certain concessions in Peshawar. Akbar Khan could not go personally to the East India Company and open these talks however and so he had to appoint a go between he could trust. After all, the very thought of disobeying his father and pursuing this course of action was treason. For this task, he appointed his cousin Mirdaad Khan Barakzai. Mirdaad Khan’s mission was simple; meet secretly with the British across the border and find out which concessions the East India Company would be willing to make if the Afghans took up arms once more against their old enemies, the Sikhs – if any. Akbar Khan proposed to take these concessions to his father’s councillors one by one, securing their agreement and thus presenting a fait accompli to King Mohammed. It was risky but Khan truly believed it was the only logical way forward. If successful, he hoped to balance the Russian and British influence once more whilst also delivering a boost for his dynasty among the people by righting old wrongs. But if he failed, he would likely be imprisoned, exiled or put to death. Mirdaad Khan left Kabul for the East India Company camp on the banks of the Sutlej. All Akbar could do now, was wait.
Akbar Khan.
When news of this reached Lord Morpeth in London, he was wary to leave the delicate business of a secret pact with the Khans to officials of the East India Company. He believed they would give any concession and form any agreement they believed to be profitable without considering the wider picture. “All things must be balanced”, the Foreign Secretary said, “And until I am confident that they can be, I prefer not to add more cards to the tower”. But that did not mean that Morpeth did not see working with the Khans as a golden opportunity. He wanted someone he trusted and whom he knew personally to be “in the room” as negotiations were held – that person presented himself in St Petersburg during the Russian State Visit in none other than William Mansfield. Morpeth promised a promotion for Mansfield if he was to go to India not just as a serving officer with the 53rd but as an emissary to oversee talks between the East India Company and the representatives of the Khans of Kabul. When he put this to Mansfield, he explained that there was an element of risk but that if he accepted, it would be far easier to arrange his release from royal service without causing upset to the King. George might be somewhat offended that an old friend was bored in his Household and wanted to leave because he had not been given any real chance of advancement, yet he could not object if the Foreign Secretary suggested that Mansfield’s service up until now had marked him out for a diplomat role to play. Mansfield readily agreed and Morpeth promised to make the necessary arrangements as soon as the government contingent of the royal party left St Petersburg for London, but William would not know his future until he returned to England after the King and Queen had concluded their private visit to Denmark.
But Mansfield would find that the Royal couple were about to change their travel plans, delaying his homecoming by another three weeks. Initially, the King and Queen were to spend a few days at the Charlottenlund Palace with the King’s extended family after they left St Petersburg. From there, they were to sail directly home aboard the
Sovereign. However, though the King had not succumbed to anxieties for his wife’s condition as he had before, he did not wish to put her through a long and uncomfortable return journey. To that end, it was decided that the King and Queen should break up their voyage by stopping at Emden from where they would travel on to Apeldoorn to spend a week with the King’s cousin, the Princess of Orange. Relations had been strained between Victoria and George for some time and when the Tsarevna first proposed this rest stop, George refused to consider it. But Maria Georgievna, possibly acting the peacemaker and trying to heal the family rift, insisted that he put Queen Agnes’ interests first. Whilst undoubtedly their return to England would take far longer, the inconvenience was worth bearing if it meant that Agnes (who was already increasingly anxious at the thought of another sailing beset by violent sea sickness) was more comfortable. Reluctantly, the King agreed, and word was sent to Het Loo. The Princess of Orange was overjoyed that her cousin wished to visit and readily replied that she would dearly love to accommodate George and Agnes at her favourite residence.
Victoria’s reply gave no indication of the chaotic situation in which she found herself in 1845. When Princess Charlotte Louise and the Tsarevich married in 1840, there were very few both in England and in Russia who predicted that it would prove anything but disastrous. They came from entirely different worlds, tensions between their two countries placed a heavy burden on their shoulders and even Princess Mary (who encouraged the match) privately confided to her sister Sophia that she had doubts Lottie could ever truly be happy in St Petersburg. Yet Maria Georgievna proved the naysayers wrong and as we have seen, her relationship with Sasha had only grown stronger and more joyous as the years passed. By contrast, the enthusiasm for the marriage of Princess Victoria of Kent and the Prince of Orange in 1837 was palpable in both London and The Hague. All sides believed this arrangement would flourish and that William and Victoria were a very well-suited and natural coupling destined to spend many happy years together until they were called to assume their duties as King and Queen of the Netherlands. Princess Victoria had never been truly enthusiastic about her marriage when she accepted the Prince of Orange’s proposal but like many others in her position, she resigned herself to the fact that a mutual respect between husband and wife would soon develop and that it would be enough to sustain them in the future. But by 1840, Victoria realised she could never respect her husband, indeed, by 1845 she openly told her ladies in waiting that she despised him. After the initial breakdown of their relationship which quickly followed the birth of their first child (Princess Victoria Paulina), there had been a reconciliation which gave everyone at the Dutch Court hope for the future. In 1843, the Princess of Orange gave birth to a son, Prince William, and for a time it appeared that the worst was over. Just a year later and that reunion seemed a lifetime away.
It all began in July 1844. Their rekindled affection once again diminished to the point of animosity, the Prince of Orange returned to the Kneuterdijk Palace whilst his wife remained at Het Loo. The childhood illness of Prince William proved a convenient tool for Victoria, allowing her to refuse all summons to the court of her father-in-law because the infant was not to travel long distances. But in using her son’s condition in this way, Victoria overlooked something vitally important – a sickly child was no asset to an hereditary institution. King William II was not a monster, he was fond of his daughter-in-law, loved his grandchild and blamed his son entirely for the difficulties in the Orange marriage. Yet there was more to the situation than the personal. As rumours at the Dutch court abounded that the little Prince was so unwell that he may not survive (and if he did, that he would be a lifelong invalid unfit to rule), William II had no choice but to consider the succession. He knew that his son’s marriage was a troubled one and he feared that, if this persisted, no more children would be born to the Prince and Princess of Orange. If that were the case, and if Prince William died young or his condition made it impossible for him to succeed (or rule), then following William III’s death, the throne would pass to William II’s second son, Alexander – Victoria Paulina being passed over unless all collateral male lines of the family had fallen extinct. But Alexander himself was not exactly in rude health.
In 1836, the Prince of Orange and Prince Alexander were returning from Leiden in the midst of a terrible storm [2]. Believing it safer to continue on to The Hague than to turn back, the two princes abandoned their carriage and set off on foot when an enormous tree gave way and came crashing down inches before them. The Prince of Orange was pulled out of the tree’s path by his valet but Prince Alexander was not so fortunate. A branch caught him and threw him forward where he became trapped under the weight of the tree. Locals who witnessed the accident rushed to help but the only way they could extricate Alexander was to dig at the ground beneath him with their hands. When he was eventually rescued, the situation seemed mercifully less serious than it had first appeared. But within days he had fallen gravely ill, and his parents were advised to prepare themselves for the worst. Alexander survived but he was never the same after his accident. He frequently became short of breath and suffered excruciating headaches, he experienced dizzy spells, and his sight began to fail. Though his prognosis was kept from his mother, Queen Anna, King William II was privately advised that the Prince should not be encouraged to exert himself. His health was so precarious that “a summer cold could be his end”. As the Queen convinced herself that Alexander’s situation would be improved by the love of a good wife, she became increasingly frustrated at her husband’s rejection of any candidate she proposed. “I could not make a widow of a young bride”, he told his brother sadly, “And that is what I fear any would become if they married the boy”.
Pressure was therefore placed on the King’s third surviving son, Prince Henry, to marry quickly. Nicknamed “
de Zeevaarder”, the Prince (born in 1820) had only one real love in life – the Dutch Navy. He had been appointed a naval officer at the age of 16 and had served consistently since. By 1844, he was petitioning his father to allow him to return to the Dutch East Indies but the King refused to consider the matter. Henry was 24 years old and though he did not wish to marry because it may interfere with his naval career, the fragility of the Prince of Orange’s marriage and Prince Alexander’s health forced King William to put his foot his down. His Majesty applied even stronger pressure to his son and heir. William travelled personally to the Kneuterdijk in June 1844 to insist that the Prince of Orange give up his mistress Elisabeth van Lynden and reconcile with his wife. The Prince agreed but less than a week later, packed his trunk and disappeared to Geneva to be reunited with Elisabeth. Van Lynden had been spirited away to Switzerland in 1843 to give birth to the Prince of Orange’s illegitimate child. Born in February that year, the baby (a boy) was adopted by the Zos family and paid an annuity from the Prince to keep his secret. But gossip at the Dutch Court threatened to expose the existence of the child and so Elisabeth was advised to remain in Geneva for a time. This only served to make the Prince more lovesick for his paramour than ever before and this is almost undoubtedly why his reconciliation with Princess Victoria in 1842/43 did not last. For her part however, the Princess of Orange did not consider her predicament to be uncomfortable. She did not wish to live with her husband, she didn’t much care for his infrequent visits and when his prolonged absences from Het Loo seemed to become a permanent state, rather than object she seemed to welcome it.
Victoria, Princess of Orange.
At this time, Victoria’s entire focus was on her son, Prince William. His illness had inspired a frenetic maternal devotion in the Princess and her entire day was spent in the nursery keeping a careful watch on the child. Her only “work” was the mountain of correspondence she engaged in with her relatives abroad and she declined all invitations to appear in public – or at court. The Dutch soon nicknamed her “the Shadow Princess” and whilst the people did not expect to see much of her anyway, courtiers took her absence as a deliberate insult. Her refusal to speak Dutch, to show any interest in her new homeland and her isolation from prominent noble families who might expect her patronage, caused so much animosity that she was openly mocked in the royal palaces. Of course, this did not inspire Victoria to make any effort to improve relations and so a generally unpleasant atmosphere was allowed to flourish with most sympathising with the Prince of Orange when he complained about the state of his marriage. A debauchee he may be, but who could blame him when his wife was so ghastly? However unfair we may find this today, it was nonetheless the prevailing view of the Dutch nobility in the mid 1840s.
On the 31st of July 1844, Victoria retired at around 11.30pm. As had become routine for her, she ate supper with two of her ladies in waiting, spent an hour in the night nursery and then took herself off to bed. An hour later, she was awoken by her lady's maid, Hestie Bloem, with the news that Prince William was unwell and that Dr Sanderse, Victoria’s physician, had been called for. Victoria immediately flew into a rage, launching herself toward the nursery in her nightdress screaming that Sanderse was not be allowed anywhere near the Prince. So loud were Victoria’s protests that her daughter, Princess Victoria Paulina, began to scream and had to be taken to the kitchens far away from her mother’s fury. From his bassinet, Prince William was making painful shrieks which only grew louder as the Princess of Orange became more hysterical. Upon reaching her son, a terrified night nurse showed Victoria what she believed was the cause of the boy’s agony – a large purple welt on his right elbow that caused his forearm to swell badly. Victoria rounded on the poor nurse.
“Who has done this to my child?!”, she seethed, moving dangerously toward the young girl as to strike her, “
Who has done this?!”
The girl stammered that she simply found Prince William in that condition when she heard his cries but Victoria only grew more enraged, reaching for a nearby vase and throwing it to the ground with an almighty shatter.
“Get out!”, she screeched, “All of you! You are all dismissed! Go from here and do not come back, you wicked monsters, you wicked, wicked monsters!”
Thereupon, Victoria slammed the door to the nursery shut, placed a chair before it and sat on it weeping, unable to confront the situation – or even to pick up her baby. When Dr Sanderse arrived and was told of what had happened, he sent word immediately to the Prince of Orange in The Hague, telling the messenger that the Prince
must be brought back to Het Loo as soon as possible. But the Prince of Orange was not in The Hague – he was in Geneva, with his mistress. Realising the severity of the situation, the messenger dashed to the Huis ten Bosch where the Queen was in residence, the King being away in Tilburg. Queen Anna was horrified by what the messenger had to tell her and immediately sent for the three royal physicians of her own household to accompany her to Het Loo. For the next five hours, Anna’s carriage rocked and swayed as she desperately tried to keep a cool head to steady herself for what she might find at her daughter-in-law’s residence in Apeldoorn. “Whatever I expected”, she said upon her arrival, “This is far worse”.
As she stepped from her carriage, Queen Anna saw a guard carrying an axe. When the guard saw the Queen, he immediately dropped the axe to the ground and saluted her.
“What on earth are you doing”, Anna demanded to know, “that you should need such an implement?!”
“Begging your pardon Your Majesty”, the guard replied, “Her Royal Highness refuses to allow the physician into the nursery. Dr Sanderse has ordered me to break down the door”.
“You shall do no such thing!”, the Queen snapped, “Now take me to Sanderse. Immediately”.
Far from being intimidated by the arrival of Queen Anna, Dr Sanderse was relieved. He calmly explained the situation and urged Her Majesty to allow the guard to proceed; “For if I cannot examine the child, and if he is in crisis, he will assuredly die Ma’am”, he explained. The Queen nodded silently. Sanderse exchanged glances with the admonished guard who went to retrieve the axe, whilst the Queen tried a last ditch attempt to reason with Victoria.
“You must let me in Drina!”, she called through the door, “If you do not, we shall have to knock down the door and that will only cause you more distress!”
“No Mama, no!”, Victoria wailed, “Dr Sanderse will take Willy away from me. They all want to take him away. Please Mama, do not do this, I beg of you!”
The Queen wiped away and tear and turned to the guard.
“Do what you must”, she whispered.
“Stand clear of the door Ma’am!”, Sanderse called out, “We must force it and you shall be harmed!”
Victoria screamed. The guard slammed the axe against the door hinges. When it was finally struck clean, it swayed inward and collapsed into the nursery with a loud clatter on the tiled floor. Peering in, Queen Anna saw the sight of Victoria crouched into a corner, her wailing child held tightly in her arms. When Dr Sanderse approached, Victoria cried out so violently so that the Queen marched toward her daughter-in-law, slapped her across the face to silence her, and then gestured to her own physicians to take the baby from her. Finally defeated, Victoria lay on the floor sobbing as Queen Anna followed the doctors into another room so that the Prince may be thoroughly examined.
After an hour, during which time the Princess of Orange was given a sedative to calm her and carried to her bed, the three physicians stood before the Queen in the morning room.
“Well gentlemen”, she said stoically, “From your expressions I surmise that you have no good news to impart…so let us have the bad and look it in the face”.
“We have examined His Royal Highness”, Dr Reitz said gravely, “And we are all agreed Your Majesty…”
Doctors Stucker and Toors nodded encouragingly to their spokesman.
“Sanderse had diagnosed epilepsy Ma’am”, Reitz began, “And quite understandably so for the Prince has experienced seizures and stiffness in the muscles and joints. But the bruise on the Prince’s arm Your Majesty…Sanderse tells me he has found a similar contusions before…he put it down to injuries sustained during the Prince’s seizures, perhaps from striking the side of his crib. But Doctor Stucker…and Doctor Toors…and myself…we believe…no Ma’am, we are certain. His Royal Highness has haemophilia, Your Majesty” [3]
Queen Anna’s expression was unchanged.
“I am not familiar with that condition”, she said bluntly, “I wish you to explain to me as you would a lay person. And do not shield me from any part of it, however bad it may be”.
“Haemophilia, Ma’am”, Doctor Stucker said nervously, “It is a bleeding disorder, the blood cannot clot you see…and so there are periods of spontaneous bleeding in the patient”
“Or prolonged bleeds sustained from an injury of some kind”, Doctor Toors pitched in helpfully, “A fall or a cut…”
“And we see bleeding within joints Ma’am”, Reitz continued, “As in the Prince’s elbow today. But there may be bleeds in the head…in the brain Ma’am. They may lead to seizures or paralysis, a loss of speech, a loss of balance, the vital organs are-“
“Yes thankyou Doctor”, Queen Anna interrupted, a quiver in her voice, “I quite understand. You may retire now, attend to His Royal Highness. I shall speak with Princess Victoria”
“On that point Your Majesty…”, Reitz said anxiously, “If you will permit me?”
“Yes?”
“We have concerns Ma’am…”, he continued, trying to avoid eye contact with the Queen, “…that Her Royal Highness…that her…that she is imbalanced, Ma’am. Her behaviour today but also on previous occasions relayed to us by her members of her household…we should like to examine her further Your Majesty. To see how we might help her to…”
“Regain her reason?”, the Queen said abruptly, almost dangerously.
“If you wish to put it that way Ma’am…”
Queen Anna rose to her feet. She stared down Reitz until he was forced to meet her steely glare.
“Do you suppose for one moment that she should feel any other way when faced with
this my good doctor?”, she hissed, “Do you suppose that I too, or any mother come to that, would not find my mind imbalanced or my reason disturbed in light of that knowledge which you have just given me? I know what it is to lose a child. I know the pain of seeing them afflicted with…with unspeakable maladies…and yet one can do nothing but watch…and wait. No gentlemen. You shall not ‘examine’ the Princess, neither shall you cause her any more distress. I shall speak with her. As only as a mother can”. [4]
Victoria as a child with her mother, the Duchess of Kent.
Historians have long debated where in Victoria’s ancestry she acquired the gene for haemophilia which she passed to her son William. There is no family history of the disease in either her paternal or maternal lineage and it is widely accepted today that she became a carrier of the disease through an unfortunate spontaneous gene mutation – which would be more like to pass from her father than her mother [5]. Certainly, the Duchess of Kent’s other children were neither affected by the disease, nor did they pass it on to their children. But in Victoria’s case, it is difficult to know the exact nature or severity of the haemophilia she carried because it only ever affected one of her children. In 1844, however, the most important aspect of Prince William’s diagnosis was not how Victoria had acquired the gene to pass onto her son but that she may pass it on to other children in the future. It was known that girls did not suffer from symptoms of the disease and that they were “only” carriers, equally it was well understood that not every male born with the disease would suffer severe symptoms or die prematurely from them. Yet the fact that Victoria had “brought” haemophilia into the Dutch Royal Family, in the direct line of succession too, was enough to further ruin her reputation at court. In other words, the courtiers already disliked Victoria…now they had cause to blame her for every future failure where the Royal House was concerned.
When King William II was informed of the incident, and the subsequent diagnosis of his grandson as a haemophiliac, he demanded to know why the Queen had been forced to intervene…and where on earth was his son? When he was told that the Prince of Orange was in Geneva, the King was incensed. He immediately sent a letter to the Prince in Switzerland threatening that if he did not return to the Netherlands at once, he would send an armed guard to bring him home by force. This threat was clearly made in the heat of the moment but when it reached the Prince, he panicked and wrote to his mother that he could not possibly return home because he was unwell. In the meantime, the King met with Doctors Reitz, Stucker and Toors to discuss the situation at hand. All three were sworn to secrecy but Stucker made notes in his diary which can be revealed for the first time here. After discussing the prognosis for Prince William, which might reasonably follow only one or two distinct routes, the men discussed what should be done about Princess Victoria. Stucker argued that he believed Victoria had inherited her grandfather’s madness – a ghost of the past that had first appeared in the Netherlands when Victoria first arrived there. The physician insisted that her mind was disturbed, and she needed urgent care in a sanatorium. “I reminded His Majesty that the Princess’ mother too died in lunacy”, he writes, “And that she may pose a danger to herself and those around her if she left to continue in this fashion”. [6]
But Stucker and Toors disagreed. Their conclusion was that Victoria was not mad, rather that she was suffering from a common complaint that could be easily resolved – female hysteria [7]. This ancient diagnosis reasoned that a woman who displayed symptoms of nervousness, increased anxiety, or bouts of depression was bound to do so if she was not “nightly attended” by her husband on a frequent basis. Doctors at this time believed that anxiety and depression in women was not primarily caused by the mind but by marital neglect. Sexual frustration was bound to result in “morbid curiosities, behavioural oddities and unreasonable outbursts” and the simplest way to remedy this was for the Prince of Orange to resume intimacy with his wife. Archaic as it may seem to us today, this was widely accepted as cause and treatment for women like Victoria and as no immediate “remedy” could be offered, a course of bloodletting and purgatives were prescribed instead. However, King William II had heard all he needed to decide his next move. When his son and heir returned to Holland, he would insist that the Prince honour his marriage vows. Victoria was to be ordered to leave Het Loo and return to the Kneuterdijk, whilst William would be forced to give up his mistress come hell or high water. As a contingency for the Dutch succession, Prince Henry would be married as soon as a bride could be found for him, and any discussion of the domestic troubles (or health conditions) faced by any member of the House of Orange was to be strictly forbidden at court with those who transgressed dismissed (and thereby socially ruined) as a punishment.
But the Prince of Orange did not return to the Netherlands until November 1844. When he did so, he was accompanied by his mistress. William was characteristically insensitive in both his actions and motive. He explained to his father that Victoria's "crisis" was to be expected and he repeated the commonly held views about the state of mental health reported in both her grandfather and mother. Her behaviour made her impossible to live with, William reasoned, and though he did not blame her for it the simple fact was that Victoria would never be able to control her mood because of her "inherited imbalance". The Prince then raised the spectre of the animosity that existed between Victoria and the Dutch court, a worrying state of affairs indeed given her future role. Whatever his father may have imposed on them, the nobility in The Hague frequently and openly discussed Victoria's shortcomings and so, in William's assessment, could never respect or honour her as their Queen. Try as he might, and he insisted he had tried, he saw no other option - he must be allowed to divorce Victoria so that she could go home to be cared for by her family...or sent somewhere that better suited her needs...perhaps even to Bonn. The King said nothing as his son spoke. On his desk, William II had a letter from Dr Sanderse. The Princess of Orange seemed well recovered and was making improvements, all things considered. He saw no reason why she should not continue to improve if her situation was made happier by the return and sustained attentions of her husband. Whatever was in the Prince's mind that day, it served only one purpose - to give rise to an interminable loss of trust and respect between father and son and a total collapse of communication.
Victoria was allowed to remain at Het Loo with her children. The King privately instructed his physicians to ensure she had everything they could possibly give to make her condition better and that she was to be denied nothing she asked for. But though she was improving, and though her fits of rage had been relatively few since her treatments (for now), she still complained that she was suffering from horrific nightmares and there were frequent bouts of uncontrollable crying. Queen Anna tried to keep a closer eye on Victoria but could see little hope going forward. Prince William would undoubtedly suffer another turn for the worst. Nobody could predict when but it seemed a certainty - and when that occurred, who could know what the outcome would be? When she visited Het Loo, the Queen was not surprised to find Victoria weeping or despondent, and she could not help but entirely sympathise with her daughter-in-law's situation as both the King and Queen believed now that their eldest son's behaviour was only making matters worse.
So, it was a surprise to the Queen when she visited Victoria in September 1845, to find the Princess of Orange dressed in a bright pink gown with flowers in her hair, bustling about Het Loo with a wide grin on her face.
“Drina!”, the Queen smiled as she embraced her, “I have such a happy daughter today”.
“Oh Mama!”, Victoria beamed, “It is all so wonderful, I can hardly believe it. I had word this morning…Georgie is coming, Mama! Georgie is coming to see me!”
The Queen nodded nervously.
“And you feel well enough for that Drina? You are not too tired?”
Victoria laughed loudly.
“I could never be too tired for a visit from Georgie, really Mama, and he’s coming just at the right time. Everything has been so horrible, and I did not know what to do or where to turn and then, like an answer to prayer Mama, I had word from Georgie”?
“That’s very nice Drina…”
Victoria took the Queen’s hands in her own and kissed them eagerly.
“Don’t you see Mama?”, she smiled, “Georgie will fix everything. He always knows what to do. He shall fix it all, you see if he doesn’t. Isn’t that wonderful?”
Queen Anna tried desperately to hide her heartbreak.
“Yes my darling”, she replied, “That really is…wonderful”
Notes
[1] As in the OTL.
[2] This happened in the OTL too and was blamed for Prince Alexander’s premature death in 1848 at the age of 29 – though modern historians doubt that and presume his health had always been delicate.
[3] In my research, I found that haemophilia was rarely diagnosed first (as the condition itself was rare) in small children and that epilepsy was usually the most frequent initial diagnosis because of similar symptoms.
[4] King William and Queen Anna lost a son, Prince Ernest Casimir, at 3 months old in 1822.
[5] The possibility of the spontaneous mutation that causes haemophilia increases in men as they age – the Duke of Kent was 51 when Victoria was born. As there is little evidence to suggest Victoria Coburg was a carrier of the disease, it’s widely accepted now that Victoria probably became a carrier herself through her father and not her mother as previously thought.
[6] ITTL, Victoria Coburg Kent actually died of TB in the asylum at Bonn but I believe the common understanding at this time would be that she died “of madness” given her location at the time of her death.
[7] This was a common diagnosis at the time and the description of the “complaint” and the “cure” are true to life. I’ve tried to phrase it as delicately I can because the terms used at the time are really quite shocking for a society we think of as very reserved.
This was intended to be a double bill but the second installment isn't quite ready yet and I'm not sure I'll be able to finish it before Friday when I go on a much needed holiday! But when I come back, my schedule won't be quite so busy - thank goodness.
Of course, this counts for our update on Princess Victoria and how things have been going for her since her marriage - I'm only sorry it doesn't make for happier reading. That said, in the next installment we'll see Georgie and Drina reunited and perhaps she's right...perhaps he will be able to make life a little better for his cousin.
With many thanks as ever for your continued support of the timeline!
en.m.wikipedia.org
