Crown Imperial: An Alt British Monarchy
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Thankyou so much for this and my apologies that the latest two chapter update has been a little delayed. Recovering my Wiki work and migrating it to a new server took a little longer than I assumed it would but it really is impossible for me to write without it as I keep my plotlines and research in "Month/Year" formats.
That said, I finally completed moving almost two years of notes (!) over and can now settle back into writing so certainly by tomorrow I shall have something for the timeline again. Many thanks for your patience!
GV: Part Four, Chapter Twelve: Life at Lisson
King George V
Part Four, Chapter Twelve: Life at Lisson
Part Four, Chapter Twelve: Life at Lisson
When the King and Queen returned to Buckingham Palace in the third week of October 1845, their homecoming was not exactly the warm reception they may have wished for. At this time, it was customary for senior members of the Royal Household, the Prime Minister, members of the Privy Council and the Bishop of London to form a welcome committee at the dockside, a rather inconvenient ritual which George V dispensed with in 1856. The delegation was headed by the Duke of Cambridge whilst at the Palace, Princess Mary oversaw arrangements for a grand tea party to which the King’s personal staff and the Queen’s ladies in waiting were all invited. After such a long and uncomfortable journey across the Channel, Their Majesties were hardly in the mood to make small talk over slices of seed cake and it was only when the majority of the guests had departed leaving only Lord Melbury, the Right Reverend Charles Blomfield, and the King’s aunt and uncle, that George V and Queen Agnes truly felt they could relax. In this more intimate setting, the royal couple shared the news that the Queen was expecting her first child. But the King also took the opportunity to announce that (perhaps inspired by their stay at the Charlottenlund) the following week Their Majesties would take up residence at Lisson for the very first time since it’s completion. Princess Mary raised doubts that there would be enough room for the army of courtiers which usually followed the King when he changed residence. Lisson was extremely comfortable, but it did not have the same accommodations at Buckingham Palace which surely would cause difficulty. The King smiled gently and explained that he did not intend that the court should move to Lisson, only that George V and Queen Agnes would be using the house in the coming days. Princess Mary raised an eyebrow.
When George V instituted Lisson as a royal residence, he did so with the express intention that the house should never become an “official” residence. The patterns established there were part of a conscious effort to provide the Royal Family with a home in the capital that was totally free from the burdens of state and great pains were taken to keep official duties from the threshold. Though the King received state papers at Lisson each day, the infamous red boxes were collected from Whitehall and delivered there by courtiers from St James’. The King never gave his assent “at Our Court at Lisson” because the court was never constituted there, rather the King continued to give his assent at the Court of St James’ even if the physical application of that assent by his signature was actually given at Lisson. In a further sign that life there would be very different to that at Buckingham Palace or Windsor, the Household itself was reduced only to the essentials. Beyond the usual domestic staff, one might find in any London house of comparable size, there was to be a Chief Steward of the King’s Household at Lisson, a Gentleman Usher and a Page of the Backstairs assigned for both the King and the Queen, which made the Household at Lisson the smallest of any royal residence. The Chief Steward did not have to contemplate how to carry out his duties at Lisson because the running of the house itself was to follow the rules laid down by the Queen in a small booklet circulated among courtiers called “The Ways of His Majesty’s House at Lisson” which covered everything from how meals should be served and enjoyed to what a guest at the house might wear for the duration of their stay. This booklet would have a surprising long-lasting impact both at court, and beyond palace walls, a consequence which has given Queen Agnes a particularly important legacy in the world of fashion.
In 1845, the English court was still wearing the court dress preferred by King George III. In 1810, the Lord Chamberlain was commanded to write a pamphlet which could be circulated to visitors making it clear what they might wear “in the presence”. This consisted of a court dress coat with matching breeches over white silk stockings, a satin waistcoat (usually heavily embroidered) and shiny black court shoes with silver buckles. The crescent shaped chapeau-bras (known as the opera hat) was usually worn over a powdered wig, though by the mid-1840s these were falling out of favour and restricted only to those who held the most senior ranks within the Royal Household. Court dress favoured the bold and the expensive with silks and velvets preferred over cloth trousers which were only worn at levees in the summer months. This changed significantly in 1845 when the King decided that he too might like to get in on the fashion stakes as his wife came up with a more informal standard for Lisson. In January 1846, the court adopted the “New Georgian” court dress for the first time. Court coats were now single breasted and cut in dark (black or navy blue) cloth with silk reserved only for the lining. Stand collars were introduced with white neckties and for those who held some form of position at court, a series of motifs for their offices were designed by the Royal College of Arms which might be embroidered on the lapels of their coat – for example, the Gentleman Ushers now had a badge of gold thread on their lapels which bore the King’s cypher on depictions of their crossed wands of office, Black Rod with a portcullis above whilst Green Rod had a thistle. Waistcoats no longer had collars and were still cut from silk but now black was reserved only for the daytime which gentleman were asked to change into white for dinner. Silk stockings were kept only for levees or “drawing rooms”, with high waisted trousers replacing them, though court shoes and buckles were retained whatever the hour. The men of the Royal Family had no need to concern themselves with any of this however, for they simply wore the Windsor uniform introduced by George III – which was always worn with breeches and stockings.
1840s Map of Lisson.
At Lisson however, the new modifications to court dress didn’t matter as it was never to be worn there. Instead, Queen Agnes described what she thought appropriate, and which would become known as “Morning Dress”, though it was never usually changed until shortly before dinner. A “suit” of light grey was endorsed for Lisson with coats cut in broadcloth rather than expensive silks or velvets. The hourglass silhouette which had been so popular in the 1820s and 30s now gave way to a narrower, more fitted shape and the waistline was dropped with narrower sleeves to give a far more elegant, and far less dramatic, profile. Waistcoats were to be simple too. Gone were the heavy embroideries and brocades of the past and in their place, simple vests of pale blue, white, ivory, or cream coloured silk arrived worn over shirts with starched, turned up collars. But Agnes was aware that there were only so many variations of this look a gentleman could adopt and that it may come to resemble a uniform, the very thing she wished to avoid. The cravat was now standard dress for the upper classes, but it became a mandatory accessory to the Lisson look because it allowed the wearer to express his individuality. Whilst this began with stripes or spots (as modelled by the King), by the 1850s cravats had taken on a whole new importance as the wealthy paid a small fortune to have a unique motif designed which could be embroidered on their neckties. This might include a coat of arms or monogram, but trends developed in which fruits, flowers, birds, and even wild animals became popular. Ladies even got in on the act and began to match their accessories to these prints, a fashion that remained popular for decades. A staple wedding gift of the New Georgian age became a “tie plate”, an illustrated 6 x 4 parchment square with a design the couple might use for their cravats and sashes. This fashion trend would continue until the 1930s until it fell out of favour at last.
For women, the “Lisson Look” was possibly a more welcome innovation than it was for their husbands. At this time, women at court were required to change their clothes four times a day. A simple morning gown would be changed after breakfast for a slightly more robust dress that could take an overcoat and hat for morning calls. Whilst ladies did not change for luncheon, they did so afterwards into a dress suitable for afternoon calls and teatime. Then they changed again for dinner. At Lisson however, changes were reduced to two. Ladies were encouraged to wear simple, cotton dresses in light colours until after tea at 4pm when they took their baths and changed into their evening attire. So was born the “Soirée Dress”, a more elaborate gown than that worn in the mornings, but which could easily be worn from around 6pm onwards and might serve for both a quiet informal meal with family or an occasion frock when guests and friends called for a sherry party. Not as simple as a morning dress but not as extravagant as an evening dress, Queen Agnes designed the Soirée Dress herself. These were off the shoulder floor length gowns which were always cut in silk with short sleeves in the summer and in velvet with long sleeves in the winter. Crinolines were worn with the waist drawn in tight giving a pleasing shape to the overall look but the true beauty of the Soirée Dress was the embroidery.
As simple as the cut may be, the garments themselves were to be used as templates for the imagination to run wild and the best dressmakers were considered to be those who could go beyond flowers or fruits to create dresses which told a story. One particular example widely admired and is now on display at Harewood House belonged to Lady Caroline Lascelles (née Howard) who debuted her famous “Hounds” dress at court in 1849. This depicts a hunt of hounds dashing through trees all the way down to the hem where, hidden in a tuck on the left, the back half of a fox can seen disappearing into a hole with his tail waving above the ground. Soirée dresses became objects of amusement which could show the wit and intelligence of the wearer, but they were also used to convey messages. For example, Queen Agnes herself wore a lilac Soirée Dress embroidered with white lilies during court mourning for the Duke of Cambridge, a more direct expression of sympathy in dress than simply adopting a grey or purple colour palette. The ladies of the court were delighted to adopt the new Lisson style, possibly because it was so much more to their tastes than the French fashions the Queen wore at the other royal residences. These were far more formal and structured but also, far more expensive, and the ladies of the Queen’s Household quickly became adept at finding ways to make a Soirée dress look costly with cleverly placed embroideries which were actually quite economical to apply. Middle class women could also replicate this look and in the 1850s and 60s, large factory produced embroidery panels known as “Soirée Pieces” could be purchased for as little as 1s/6d – the equivalent of around £4 today.
Soirée dress worn by Queen Agnes, 1847.
It was not only the dress code which was more informal at Lisson, indeed, the whole pace of life was very different to that which courtiers had come to know at other royal residences. For example, luncheon was held earlier and dinner later at times the King and Queen felt their guests would actually be hungry, rather than at the times society deemed appropriate for such repasts. And rather than a huge number of courses served on gilded plates, or an extensive wine list offered in the best crystal goblets, the “Lisson Service” was commissioned from the porcelain factory in Worcester which consisted of 25 individual place settings in simple white with a scalloped edge hand painted with blue swags, and the dual monogram of the King and Queen painted in silver in the centre. To the curiosity of their guests, George V and Queen Agnes paired this with a canteen of cutlery provided by the American silversmith Reed & Barton which saw Messrs Reed and Barton apply a sign over their shop doorway in Taunton, Massachusetts which read “Purveyors of Fine Silverware to Their Majesties the King and Queen of England” [sic]. Though it may not have pleased them to know that the reason an American canteen was sourced was because the Master of the Household felt American silverware to be of inferior quality to English silverware and thus, could be obtained for a cheaper price.
Outside of meal times, guests at Lisson were encouraged to move around the house at leisure, enjoying the art in the Queen’s Picture Gallery or reading in the Library which had a vaulted ceiling with skylights so as to allow as much sunlight into the room as possible. A croquet lawn was installed and with it, a permanent source of raucous enjoyment with those wandering in the public part of the estate near the Zoo claiming they could hear the royal children shrieking and whooping with joy as they played in the gardens at Lisson. Al fresco dining was introduced in the summer months with a great gazebo erected with vast white satin sails. Decorated with roses and little flags alternating in ivory and pale blue, guests served themselves at a buffet before taking their seat and enjoying their food, something the King greatly enjoyed. But the seating itself served as yet another reminder of just how informal life at Lisson could be. Here, the order of precedence was dispensed with and guests were encouraged to sit with whomsoever they liked (though only when the family dined outdoors, meals held indoors had seating plans so as to avoid a rush for the seats next to Their Majesties) and even when a table plan was produced, a Duke could no longer guarantee his place next to the Queen, nor a visiting Princess her seat next to the King. The idea was to seat people according to interest and personality, not title or rank. It was popular with some, less with others but life at Lisson was certainly a far cry from the cramped gloomy rooms and stiff restricted formality of Windsor Castle. Of course, not everybody in the Royal Family welcomed this new style. Indeed, the King and Queen’s ambition to create a kind of holiday villa in the capital was frowned upon by older courtiers and openly derided by some within the King’s family – most notably, Princess Mary. When asked to dine at Lisson in November 1845, Mary was said to have remarked she couldn't possibly because "I might well end up with a lion tamer to my left and a chimney sweep to my left".
Thought it may conjur images of the Hameau de la Reine at Versailles, Lisson was no royal folly. It’s primary function was to replace Kensington Palace, which had burned down in 1831, in providing accommodation to the wider Royal Family. The primary residence at Lisson was officially called Park House but was known to the family as “the middle house” because it was flanked at the north and south by two “terraces” of three town houses each divided by porticos. These terraced houses were named York Lodge, Gloucester House, Kent Place, Clarence Lodge, Cambridge House and Sussex Place. The first three were located in what was called the North Terrace, the latter three in the South Terrace. As one might expect, the allocation of these properties followed the territorial designations of their names and so naturally Princess Mary was given use of Gloucester House. The only problem was that the Princess absolutely refused to set foot across the threshold. She called Lisson “the bear garden” because of it’s informality and as a result, Gloucester House remained empty though she formally had a lifetime lease. This irritated the King who thought he was being incredibly generous to his aunt. When he pointed out that the Dowager Duchess of Sussex had been very grateful to take up residence at Sussex Place in the South Terrace, Mary quipped unkindly “Well where else does she have to go?”.
But Mary was not alone in finding Lisson far from ideal. The Cambridges thought the terraces too cramped and felt they lacked privacy, so whilst they did spend time at Cambridge House in the South Terrace, they much preferred their own home at Piccadilly. However, in later years their daughter Princess Mary Adelaide would make Cambridge House at Lisson her own in the years before her marriage, and the King even went so far as to ensure that when the lease expired with the death of the Duke of Cambridge in 1850, a new lifetime lease was drawn up giving use of the house to his daughter. Mary Adelaide’s sister Augusta, the Hereditary Grand Duchess of Mecklenburg-Strelitz, often stayed there when she visited London but like her Aunt Mary, she never quite appreciated the carefree atmosphere of Lisson. She once said of it; “It is a peculiar affair with us all bagged together in a kind of royal village where one’s neighbours are one’s relations. To my mind, that is a horrifying prospect for one cannot take a ride out or sleep in late without the entire family knowing about it”. As the years went by however, it was this enforced close proximity which George liked best about Lisson – particularly as his children grew older and took up residence there in their own households.
The first royal children to live at Lisson were the Prince of Wales (later King William IV) and Princess Victoria. The Princess Royal lived in Germany when the Royal Family first moved to Lisson and whilst she was allocated her own home on the estate, she never much cared for it and gave it over to Lady Dorothy Wentworth-Fitzwilliam who happily resided there for years. Indeed, this was the cause of a great royal fall out when William IV (as fond as he was of “Aunt Dolly”) tried to evict her from The Holme, a villa on the Lisson Estate granted to the Princess Royal in 1858. A furious letter was dispatched from Darmstadt reminding the King that The Holme had been given to Missy by her father on a lease for the duration of her lifetime, not George V’s, and that consequently if she wished to let the house to Dolly, Dolly must be allowed to remain there for as long as she liked. William IV was not best pleased to have these arrangements confirmed but he was forced to concede and make a grovelling apology to the imperious Aunt Dolly whom everybody agreed had been treated very shabbily indeed. The Holme was one of three villas which preceded Lisson’s construction, but which were integrated into the Royal Estate. They were reserved for the use of the King’s children when they came of age with The Holme set aside for the Princess Royal, St John’s Lodge earmarked for the Prince of Wales and the South Villa kept for a future Duke of York. But it seemed churlish to leave the villas empty for such a long time and so the South Villa was offered temporarily to Rosalinde Wiedl. Queen Agnes questioned this arrangement as she thought it quite unnecessary when the Baroness had her own London townhouse in Bloomsbury Square – it is entirely plausible that this was not her real objection. Wiedl now had a permanent home on the Windsor estate (though she spent very little time at Fort Belvedere after acquiring a lease on Radley) which the Queen accepted as the situation had been “inherited” when she married. Yet George gently reminded the Queen that the Baroness was a popular and well-liked individual at court, and with the Royal Family, and that it made perfect sense for her to take up residence in a house which would otherwise be empty, and which put her in close proximity to the Queen whom she now served as a Lady of the Bedchamber.
Left: The Junior Nursery at Lisson created by Joachim Uhre.
Right: The Senior Nursery at Lisson used by the Prince of Wales and Princess Victoria, 1845.
For the Queen however, the wider estate was not her immediate concern in 1845. With her first child due in February 1846, Agnes wished to ensure that the nursery at Lisson was well prepared for the new arrival and so it was that she elected to transform the nursery parlour into a space that could be used as a separate nursery from that used by the older royal children. This was a practical move but one which later gave Princess Victoria cause for offense. She would claim in her later years that Queen Agnes “kept her babies away from us” and accused her stepmother of “taking over the space we liked most as children to extend the nursery floor, quite unnecessarily”. However, Princess Victoria and her brother the Prince of Wales never knew the nursery parlour as it was in 1845 because by the time the Royal Family made a home there, the parlour had already been repurposed. Agnes engaged Joachim Uhre, a Danish interior designer who had been an apprentice to Joseph Christian Lille (the interior designer who had transformed the Charlottenlund and other Danish Royal Palaces), to turn the parlour into an extension of the day nursery. George V allowed Agnes to choose exactly what she wanted for the room but was a little taken aback when he entered the refurbished space for the first time. The room was incredibly beautiful with a gold canopied bed set by the windows looking out into the gardens but the draperies and upholstery on the chairs was baby pink. This colour scheme wasn't exactly to George's taste and he gently suggested that the room was a trifle "bold". Agnes then produced pillow slips in pale blue, lilac and cream, declaring happily that she had been a little uncertain herself so Mr Uhre had also produced draperies and furniture covers in other shades so that the the soft furnishings could be changed at a moment’s notice. George smiled appreciatively, then spent the rest of his day wondering just how expensive these arrangements had actually been. As much as they appreciated life at Lisson, King George and Queen Agnes had to accept that it could only serve as a temporary bolthole for as long as they insisted that no official business could be conducted there. As the years went by, they had to relent a little to allow them to spend more time in their preferred residence until by 1870, a pattern emerged whereby they left Buckingham Palace on Thursday afternoons to take up residence at Lisson before returning on Monday mornings. This meant that fewer weekends were spent at Windsor and this in itself did not please the courtiers who favoured the country pursuits on offer in Berkshire. Whilst there was boating on the lake at Lisson and croquet in the gardens, most felt a unique perk of their position at court was access to the best hunting, fishing and shooting in the country and opportunities to exploit this were now diminished. But the first real point of tension after the move from Lisson came from an unexpected direction.
On their first weekend at Lisson, the King and Queen were joined by the Duke of Cambridge, Baroness Wiedl, Lord Melbury and the Duke and Duchess of Grafton. On the Sunday morning, the guards at the East Gate temporarily closed off Cumberland Terrace and allowed members of the public into the park where they could line the walk for the first time to see the Royal Party walk the short distance to the nearby St Katharine’s Church off Albany Street where the Queen had decided they should worship whilst at Lisson. The King took no great interest in this arrangement and happily agreed, waving to the crowds which assembled to catch a glimpse of Their Majesties on the way to church. The locals of Marylebone must have felt quite privileged that this was to become a regular feature of their week – except it would not. When the Royal Family were resident at Buckingham Palace on Sundays, they worshipped privately in the Chapel Royal and were served by one of the Chaplains from St James’, often assisted by a visiting Bishop. But the proximity of St Katharine’s placed so neatly in its own precinct which could so easily be closed off made it a natural choice for the King and Queen to utilise. However, the Queen had overlooked something quite important. When they stepped into St Katharine’s for the first time, the royal party took their seats in a vacated pew at the front of the church whilst the Lisson servants took their seats at the back. All carried with them their Books of Common Prayer and settled in for the usual Sunday service. They were surprised therefore to find that though the service was conducted in English, the form of worship was completely different to that which they were accustomed.
Whilst St Katharine’s had been an Anglican church for centuries, in 1826 the land on which it sat was acquired from the Crown Estate by the Royal Danish Embassy and a new church was constructed to serve a growing Lutheran community that far exceeded the Danish church at Wellclose Square. The pastor at St Katharine’s made changes to the service to include prayers for the Royal Family but he did not follow the Anglican rite, simply because St Katharine’s was a Lutheran church. The Queen thought nothing of this when Colonel Arbuthnot raised the matter because though she practised as an Anglican since her marriage, she had been raised as a Lutheran. Furthermore, she did not entirely understand the difference between Anglican and Lutheran worship, believing that the Church of England was simply a form of Lutheran worship with no real differences in application. Needless to say, the experience was not repeated again, and the Queen was left feeling a little embarrassed at her oversight. Eventually, plans were drawn up to construct a new Chapel Royal at Park Square across York Terrace, modelled on the designs Decimus Burton had produced for the Royal Guelphic Chapel at Herrenhausen. But the church was never constructed. Lisson cost a small fortune to construct and to furnish, indeed it sailed well past its original budget at an alarming rate. It came at a time when the King had just acquired new residences in Scotland at Balmoral and Birkhall and had agreed to a programme of renovation at St James’ to prevent any further damage to the crumbling façade.
At his accession, George V was an incredibly wealthy man with a private fortune that allowed him to spend lavishly and without much thought toward his bank balance. In this mindset, the King and Queen approved plans for the redesign and refurbishment of their new Scottish estates and further approved for a programme of extensive landscaping around the lake at Lisson to provide a new boating house and pavilion with no thought given to whether they could afford it or not. But when several contractors complained that they had only received half their pay for their work at Lisson, the first signs that all was not well in the royal finances department came to light. When Charlie Phipps asked the Keeper of the Privy Purse why the accounts had not been settled with the contractors, the ominous reply came “Because we do not have the money”. Then came a new financial pressure. When the Tower of London was ravaged by fire in 1841, the Martin Tower which housed the Crown Jewels was destroyed and much of the surrounding infrastructure heavily damaged. A short-term patching up had prevented any further harm to the Tower overall but now those short-term fixes were coming undone. It was fast becoming clear that the Tower needed renovation work, and this would not come cheap. When Phipps inquired as to whether the government might meet the cost of the works, he was informed by the Treasury that, with regret, they saw the Tower as a royal residence…and thus the Crown Estate must meet the financial burden to restore it.
For the first time in his reign, George V was to face a problem so well-known by many of his predecessors but which he had been fortunate enough to keep from his own door since his accession; the Crown was in the red and if action wasn’t taken quickly, the King may well face the very real possibility of finding himself stony broke...
Notes
With apologies for the delay in this, we're now finally back in track and I have my notes well in order!
I'm aware that this installment doesn't move our story forward much but it is one of two parts I had planned to put up as a double entry last week. I'm just making some final changes to the next installment and hope to get this published ASAP.
But I felt Lisson needed a chapter to itself as we're going to be spending a lot of time there, and I wanted to set the scene well. I've used it to give some insight into how George and Agnes' first year of marriage is shaping up on the domestic front rather than simply through the prism of their official lives but it also allowed me to introduce the theme of royal expenditure...which will prove very important in our next chapter!
As ever, thankyou all for reading and for your continued patience!
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Nice to have it back! I like these updates that show us the daily life of George and his family. They make it all a bit more domestic and familiar 
Scandinavian design is the best design heh
Fascinating - george and his wife have built themselves a nice life but at a price, it seems
Sorry to be anachronism checker again, but pink and blue strictly corresponding to girls and boys seems to be a mid-20th-century thing: see https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gendered_associations_of_pink_and_blue.
Thankyou! I thought Agnes would take quite a literal interpretation of the idea that they would "build" Lisson in the image of Charlottenlund. And possibly, as we all do, have a lovely holiday and think "How can I bring a little of that home?". So Scandinavian design wins the day here.Nice to have it back! I like these updates that show us the daily life of George and his family. They make it all a bit more domestic and familiar
Scandinavian design is the best design heh
That's very kind of you! It's been a while since we look at royal finances but as a few people have pointed out along the way, George has been quite free and easy with his money. He hasn't gambled it or wasted it on love affairs as some of his predecessor, and his investments may have been sound ones, but when it's gone? It's gone.
Ah! This didn't even occur to me as I thought this was a much older practice. I'll be sure to make an edit.
She features quite heavily in our next chapter so Princess Mary fans, you're in for a treat.
George: Oh no, I ran out of money
Charles I: First time?
Anyways, great chapter, loved Princess Mary as usual.I think that George running out of money will get a little more sympathy than Past English kings because he wasn’t frivolous with his money unlike other English monarchs.
Charles I: First time?
Anyways, great chapter, loved Princess Mary as usual.I think that George running out of money will get a little more sympathy than Past English kings because he wasn’t frivolous with his money unlike other English monarchs.
King George V
Part Two, Chapter Twenty-Nine: Goodbye Lottie
In 1948, Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer took several liberties with the truth for their motion picture The Little Empress. One of these inaccuracies concerned the arrival of Princess Charlotte Louise in St Petersburg and her subsequent wedding to the Tsarevich on the 29th of November 1840. In the film, the Tsar (Basil Rathbone) forbids the Princess (Deborah Kerr) from seeing any of her visiting family because he takes an immediate dislike to her when she is cheered by crowds of shivering peasants lining the Nevsky Prospect. He locks Charlotte Louise away in a tower to prevent her from seeing her brother and sister-in-law during the pre-wedding festivities and then claims she is ill after the ceremony robbing her of a last goodbye to the King. Of course, this serves the invented narrative of the film well (Charlotte Louise eventually telling the Tsar on his deathbed that one day she shall rule Russia…) but it bears little relation to the actual events surrounding the wedding of George V’s sister to the Russian Tsarevich.
The King was determined that he wouldn’t enjoy a single second of his time in Russia. He was deliberately obstinate in delaying his preparations for the trip and kept complaining that the Tsar and his wife were “crashing old bores” who would “make the whole thing vulgar and prolonged”. The Queen on the other hand was greatly looking forward to their trip. Empress Alexandra Feodorovna was in fact Louise’s cousin (Alexandra’s mother Louise was the Queen’s aunt), though the pair hadn’t actually met because Alexandra married just before Queen Louise was born. To that end, the Russian Empress had invited every Mecklenburg-Strelitz relative she had to St Petersburg and so as the King would not feel outnumbered, she extended the same generosity to the Hesse-Kassels too. Whilst the Queen said how nice that would be, the King retorted, “Oh not another family reunion Sunny, I’m worn out with them all crowding about us at every turn”. When Louise reminded him that the Empress was a relation, the King replied; "Aren't they all?". [1]
There would however be one less immediate family member for George to worry about. Princess Victoria had extended her visit to Britain following the death of her aunt Augusta to attend the Service of Thanksgiving for her cousin’s marriage. She intended to travel with the King and Queen to Russia to be present at the wedding ceremony itself but that all changed when her grandfather-in-law, King William I of the Netherlands, abdicated. It was now imperative that Victoria return to Holland as soon as possible as her father-in-law’s inauguration and the accompanying festivities were to be held on the 28th of November. But Victoria had other ideas. She insisted that she would still be going to St Petersburg for Princess Charlotte Louise’s wedding on the 29th of November and feeling that she had found just the ruse needed to get her own way, she wrote to her husband saying; “I really should be in St Petersburg and after all, Mama is the Tsar’s sister and she should be represented by someone of senior rank in the family”. The Prince of Orange wrote back a ferocious note reminding his wife that if anyone was to represent the new Queen Anna in Russia, Queen Anna herself would decide who that was to be. In actual fact, she’d already taken care of that, asking her sister Maria (Grand Duchess of Saxe-Weimar-Eisenach) to do the honours. [2]
The inauguration of King William II of the Netherlands. Victoria can be seen standing to the right hand side of Queen Anna.
In a sulk, Victoria left her return travel plans distinctly vague much to the frustration of her husband. Eventually he booked Victoria a passage for the 20th of November and told her that if she was not on board when the ship sailed, he would divorce her. This was an idle-threat on William’s part (he was prone to fits of bad temper in which he intimidated his wife with all kinds of horrible consequences when he felt she had slighted him) but when Victoria complained to her cousin King George about the situation, he sided with his cousin-in-law and admonished Drina for being “quite unreasonable and very silly”. Victoria ultimately returned to the Netherlands as arranged, though the Dutch court knew full well that she had caused unhappiness and some felt slighted that once again she seemed to put her British relatives over her duties in the Netherlands. They were further put out when Victoria left the inauguration ball early on the 28th of November complaining of a headache, yet the following morning she was seen riding out in her carriage with her ladies in waiting. In a letter to her cousin Charlotte Louise, she wished her every happiness in Russia but insensitively warned; “You must of course expect to be hated in your new country because all English princesses are in foreign courts. We are treated most unreasonably because they all know that they are mostly the muddled offspring of princelings and parvenus, whilst we are granddaughters of King George III”.
Meanwhile, another royal cousin proved himself far amenable. Prince George of Cumberland did not expect to be invited to join the King and Queen in Russia and was making arrangements to go home to Berlin. But when King George V heard this, he protested; “But then you’d miss our Christmas at Hanover House! No no, you must stay here and I will make sure you have everything you need”. So it was that Prince George ended up staying on at Buckingham Palace. This did not please the Duke of Cumberland at all however and he wrote to his sister Mary that for Prince George to be included in family events whilst the Duke and his wife were not “is so very spiteful and I am afraid poor Freddie is laid low by the whole ghastly business”. He added somewhat imperiously; “The King should not forget that I am his uncle when all is said and done and I should take precedence over my son. Neither should the Queen forget that Freddie is her aunt and so has as much right to be invited to such events as that dreadful little Underwood creature, perhaps more so”. Cumberland later claimed it was the promotion of his son in the King’s affections at the cost of his own continued exile that made his wife unwell. The Duchess of Cumberland died in June the following year aged 63. [3]
The British government were much in agreement with the sentiments of the unenthusiastic King but dreaded the forthcoming wedding for very different reasons. A particularly unkind piece had appeared in a newspaper (no doubt motivated by Russophobic opinion on the part of the editor) which said “His Majesty has now committed to a further six weeks abroad which has the unhappy consequence of making the King absent from these shores yet once again. In these last twelve months, the King has spent almost 5 of them outside of his Kingdom – yet these travels did not include a visit to Hanover, as was so controversially pointed out earlier this year – and we have to wonder whether he will ape his ancestors in making England his part-time residence, preferring the comfort of continental courts to the his many English estates”. Of course this was derided by those in the know as deeply unfair. George V extended his summer holiday to Germany only to accommodate the wishes of his government in making a trip to Normandy; likewise, it had been the Foreign Secretary who asked him to prolong his absence to represent the United Kingdom at the funeral of the King of Prussia. George was hardly in a position to refuse and as far as Russia was concerned, had the Tsar allowed two wedding ceremonies to take place the King might not have found himself obligated to head for St Petersburg in the first place.
The HMS Royal Sovereign.
Charlie Phipps was determined to nip this criticism in the bud and cleverly, he suggested that the Royal Party might prefer to travel on the Royal Sovereign and not the Royal George, departing from London instead of Southampton. [4] Phipps reasoned that the Sovereign was not only bigger and more comfortable but that it had a special connection which the Russians would appreciate; at a review of the fleet in 1814 held to celebrate the Treaty of Paris, the Tsar’s predecessor and older brother Alexander I had joined the Prince Regent and the King of Prussia on board the Sovereign to lead fifteen ships of the line and thirty-one frigates out to sea. The King was impressed by this thoughtful gesture and was certain the Tsar would be too. In reality, Phipps knew the Sovereign to be a faster vessel than the George which would cut the King’s trip abroad in half from six weeks to just three [5]. The only problem was that there might not be enough room to accommodate everybody on board. Fortunately, circumstances intervened and the Cambridges elected not to join the King and Queen in Russia on the grounds that the Duchess was suffering from a head cold. It’s more likely they did not want to be met with gossip about their son and heir. Instead, the Duke of Cambridge sent some money to his daughter Augusta and told her to join her grandparents in Neustrelitz so that she could represent the Cambridges in St Petersburg instead. Augusta was delighted as it meant an opportunity to see her cousin Fritz (the Queen’s eldest brother) once again. The two had kept up some correspondence for some time and everybody in the family saw the prospect of wedding bells in the future.
George’s visit to Russia marked the first ever made by a reigning British sovereign but he was only to make the journey in a private capacity; this was no state visit but a personal one for an intimate family occasion, though just how intimate a ceremony that hosted 800 guests could be is perhaps left to the interpretation of the reader [6]. Whilst it was custom for a delegation from the Foreign Office to join the Sovereign whenever he travelled abroad, the King had tried to maintain the non-political nature of his sister's wedding by asking the Prime Minister if he had any objection at all to the King taking the Joint Clerk of the Privy Council William Bathurst with him instead of someone more senior. Sir James was more than content with this arrangement until news came from Egypt just days before the King and Queen were to leave for Russia; Ibrahim Ali had capitulated. Faced with an ultimatum and the loss of the defected Ottoman Fleet which proclaimed their allegiance for the Sultan once more, any hopes of his taking Constantinople had been dashed. He must now await the outcome of the London Conference the following year. [7]
Politically this was a great triumph for the Tories. They roared their approval in the Commons as the Whigs, led by Henry Labouchere on behalf of the Leader of the Opposition Lord Normanby, tried to deny just how close to a Europe-wide conflict the Great Powers had come. They were reminded in no uncertain terms that had the Whigs remained in power, Lord Palmerston would have insisted on sending gunboats whilst Sir James Graham’s government had wrestled victory from the Alis without a single shot fired. This was very much the tone the majority of the newspapers took and there was much talk of how the improved Anglo-Russian relationship had prevented a terrible crisis. Consequently, anti-Russian sentiment seemed to thaw just enough to see the odd favourable comment made in the Tsar’s favour. This would prove to be a huge relief to the King who was concerned that nobody would turn out to see his sister’s departure from St Katharine’s Dock but it was also something that saw Sir James Graham about face, wishing now to warm the Russian relationship further ahead of the all-important peace talks in February 1841. Rather than the Joint Clerk of the Privy Council, Lord Derby himself was to accompany the royal party to Russia which confused the King who remarked; “So much for this thing being kept in the family”. Also joining the royal party on their journey to St Petersburg were the Duke and Duchess of Buccleuch, Major Billy Smith and Charlie Phipps.
On the evening before the Sovereign was due to set sail, the King gave a small family dinner party at Buckingham Palace for the Tsarevich and Princess Charlotte Louise. It was an incredibly simple affair, very much to the private tastes of the King and Queen. Indeed, there were no servants with the Queen ordering a simple hot and cold buffet to which those invited could help themselves. The Sussexes, Princess Mary, the Cambridges and Princess Sophia were all invited to bid their niece goodbye and there was much toasting with champagne and long drawn-out speech giving for the duration. As the guests departed, only a handful held back; Princess Mary, the Duke of Cambridge and of course the Tsarevich and Princess Charlotte Louise. Princess Mary’s farewell to her niece was particularly touching. In her diary, Queen Louise recorded how; “Poor Aunt Mary really was so very overcome which surprised us all. She kept weeping and kissing dear Lottie on the cheek and holding her hand very tightly. She said, ‘Now do not forget your silly old Aunt Mary little one’ and begged her to remember to write often. When she finally came to leave, Aunt Mary seized Sasha in her arms and kissed him too saying ‘You must bring her back to us whenever you can, you must promise you will do that’. And then she tottered away and we could hear her crying all the way!”.
The following morning, a great procession was staged from the early hours of the morning as carts were loaded up to take the King and Queen’s luggage to St Katharine’s Dock, as well as Princess Charlotte Louise’s personal possessions she had chosen from Marlborough House to take to her new home. But inside Marlborough House, there was another parting to be concluded. Charlotte Louise’s lady in waiting, childhood friend and most devoted companion Lady Anne Anson had asked if she might be spared waving the Princess off from the dockside. “I could not bear to see you grow smaller and smaller in the distance Ma’am”, she said sadly. Lady Anson had been the closest thing to a sister Charlotte Louise had, she was perhaps even closer to Anne than she was to her cousin Princess Victoria. It had been Charlotte Louise’s wish to take Lady Anne with her to Russia as a lady-in-waiting but Lady Anne’s husband saw no life for the pair in St Petersburg and besides, the Empress forbad it. “It would be quite improper for you to bring an English lady with you”, she said, “For I have taken great trouble and care to choose ladies from my own household who would be most upset if you were to favour an old friend over new acquaintances”. Lady Anson would always remain a close friend to Princess Charlotte Louise, indeed they corresponded for decades to come and the Ansons made frequent trips to Russia to visit. But for Charlotte Louise, it now became apparent that every link she had to her homeland was being removed from her; she was to travel to Russia with only her husband to support her following their marriage.
By the time the carriages carrying the King and Queen and Princess Charlotte Louise and the Tsarevich left Buckingham Palace, quite a crowd had formed which was sustained all the way to Tower Hill. It was an enthusiastic one too, though some miserly journalists suggested this was more because Londoners always enjoyed a bit of pageantry to brighten their dull working day and in no way reflected any change of heart concerning the Princess’ marriage. It was noted that some Russian emigres had joined the crowds to present Princess Charlotte Louise with a posy of flowers before she boarded the Sovereign and it was also noted that she removed the taffeta scarf keeping her hat secure so that she might use it to wave goodbye to those who had come to wish her well. “There was no public farewell in a formal sense”, the Times reported, “For His Majesty was present and will say a private goodbye to his dear sister in the grandest of settings, no doubt a more comfortable experience than it might have been had the King been forced to wave his sister off to her new home from the noisy London dockside”. Princess Charlotte Louise recalled later that she wished she had been able to see the crowds from the deck of the ship as she left but her eyes were simply too full of tears.
The Sovereign’s route to St Petersburg took seven days across the North Sea, along the Skagerrak and Kattegat, into the Baltic Sea and across the Gulf of Finland. Empress Alexandra had sent a very detailed catalogue of what the British arrivals should expect but surely nothing could prepare them for the welcome staged on their behalf by the Tsar and his wife. A beautiful barge highly decorated was sent out to bring the party ashore, the dock teeming with people craning their necks so that they might be the first to spy their future Tsarevna [8]. It was 2 degrees below and so against the pure white of the snow that covered everything in sight in an elegant soft blanket, the colours of the Union flag and the Imperial standard were made that much brighter. A huge dais had been constructed with almost every member of the Tsar’s family waiting to receive the British party, the ladies covered in sumptuous furs with small silver boxes filled with coals hidden in their muffs to keep their gloved hands warm in the freezing temperatures – an idea supposedly imported from Manchuria. The men tried their best not to shiver in their military uniforms.
The Palace Square, Winter Palace, St Petersburg, 1840.
When the royal party arrived at the dais, the Tsar greeted the King before he greeted his own son. Kissing George on each cheek and shaking his hand, the Empress did likewise, taking Queen Louise in her arms before kissing her future daughter in law. Then the carriages arrived. The Tsarevich and Princess Charlotte Louise might be the happy couple but they were to travel in the second landau – the first was reserved for the Tsar and his wife. After them came smaller carriages for King George and Queen Louise, the rest of the Romanov clan and the court officials. Lord Derby was surprised to find himself sharing a carriage with the Tsar’s daughter the Grand Duchess Maria (Duchess of Leuchtenberg) who noticed how cold the Foreign Secretary looked and who nodded to her coachman who then produced a bottle of vodka from his coat. “Never have I welcomed the sight of strong drink as I did that day”, Derby later remarked. He would need some sustenance. Instead of being driven directly to the Winter Palace for the welcome reception, the Tsar had planned a procession around the city with his guests treated to the magnificent sights of Kazan Cathedral, the Bolshoi Theatre and St Isaac’s. It would be another hour before the British contingent found themselves in the splendour (and warmth) of the Winter Palace.
The welcome reception was quite informal by Romanov standards. The King and Queen were given a suite of rooms to use temporarily so that they might change out of their travelling clothes but they were a little unsure as to what they should wear for what appeared to be a kind of buffet-style afternoon tea. The Empress sent word to the Duchess of Buccleuch that she wanted to know what Queen Louise had decided to wear for the occasion. Sensing a French-style trick at hand, the Duchess replied, “Oh something warm and comfortable”. The reply came back; “It is only that Her Imperial Majesty wished to know whether or not the Queen was still observing half mourning for the late Princess Augusta and should like to have shown sympathy if that were the case”. The Duchess of Buccleuch was suitably admonished and when the King and Queen finally appeared in what might best be described as country estate comfortables, the Tsar took great interest in the tweed of the King’s jacket. George would later send him bolts of a similar material for Nicholas to have made up into suits.
There was of course to be much formality over the next few days but in this corner of the Winter Palace, everything was put onto the level of a family get together. The King and Queen’s extended family would not arrive until the next day but the Empress made a point of talking about her Strelitz relations to put the Queen at ease whilst the Tsar and the Tsarevich gave the King and Lord Derby a tour of one of the many picture galleries. As they wandered, the Tsar noticed that the King looked a little on edge; “Well gentlemen”, he said as if the idea had just struck him, “What say we leave the ladies for a brief moment and have a smoke”. Lord Derby would note later that he had never seen anyone light up as happily as the King did that afternoon. For someone who had dreaded his trip, the King admitted in a letter to his uncle Sussex that “The Tsar and his wife really have gone to great lengths to make us feel very welcome and most comfortable, though I do find all the excess of the place a little vulgar”.
In this, George was possibly referring to his billet for the duration of his stay in Russia. The Tsar had decided to give the Anichkov Palace, that grand 18th century imperial palace at the intersection of the Nevsky Prospect and the Fontanka River, to the Tsarevich and his bride as their St Petersburg home. It had been renovated by Alexander I some 20 years earlier when the Grand Duchess Elena vacated it but it showed no signs of age. Anichkov was grand and imposing of course but the private rooms were almost cosy. “I do not want you to think we did not want you to stay with us here”, the Empress explained as she bid the Queen farewell on the journey to Anichkov, “But I thought that it might be nice for Lotya to spend her first night in her new home with her English family. That way she will always think of you there and not so far away in London”.
At Anichkov, the King and Queen were given a small army of servants to care for them with valets and ladies’ maids on hand to provide anything Their Majesties might need. Even their breakfast trays had been carefully thought out with tea provided instead of coffee and the Empress had even ordered her Chamberlain to order “English sundries” from London with two large hampers especially brought over from Fortnum & Mason packed with jams and marmalades, gentlemen’s relish and even Scotch Eggs which the Empress assumed was some kind of breakfast food. [9] The same comforts were extended to Princess Charlotte Louise of course, though she had far more important things to worry about than what she was to eat first thing in the morning. In her suite, she was introduced to the ladies of the court set aside to help her prepare for the two important ceremonies ahead; her reception into the Orthodox Church and of course, her wedding day. But she needn’t have worried. The Empress travelled to Anichkov personally to put her at her ease and when the Princess responded in Russian, Alexandra kissed her gently whispering kindly; “Oh no my dear, they would much prefer French”. [10]
Anichkov, 1850.
The Tsar was uncertain as to whether the King and Queen would want to attend the ceremony for Charlotte Louise’s reception into the Orthodox faith, after which there was to be a “family-only” reception. “On the contrary”, the King replied, “We must see the way things are done here”. He possibly regretted the decision when a few hours later he found himself forced to stand in the Grand Church of the Winter Palace for what seemed an eternity. He didn’t understand a single word, though Grand Duke Michael stood beside the King and Queen trying helpfully to explain what was happening. The King muttered; “We brought Missy into our church within 25 minutes”. Fortunately, Princess Charlotte Louise was far more moved by the experience. Dressed in a white gown embroidered with an olive branch motif, she was anointed with chrism oil in the sign of the cross on her forehead, eyes, nostrils, mouth, breast, hands and feet so as to be sealed with the gift of the Holy Ghost. The Empress stood as her godmother and was the first to say out loud the name by which the Princess would now be known for the rest of her life; Maria Georgievna. [11]
Though she was never as pious as some of her relatives (or indeed her own children), Maria Georgievna was nonetheless a sincere convert to Orthodoxy. She came to appreciate its traditions and rituals, though it was noted that she nonetheless continued to celebrate Christmas Eve on the 24th of December as she did in England as well as celebrating the occasion according to the Russian Orthodox liturgical calendar later in January. Her children were always grateful for this and indeed, her daughter the Grand Duchess Maria (later Queen of the Netherlands) recalled how for nearly a whole month her mother celebrated Christmas with parties and gift-giving well before the other Romanovs began their own festivities. Her son Grand Duke George remembered how his mother “Introduced us all very early to the traditions of an English Christmas, though none of us were ever reconciled to that horrid fruit pudding she so adored, neither did we care for English songs which we all thought sounded very ugly”.
After the reception ceremony, there was a grand luncheon held at Anichkov where the extended Hesse-Kassel and Mecklenburg-Strelitz relations had finally arrived. “Everything had an atmosphere of comfort and ease to it”, Maria Georgievna later recalled, “I was very grateful to my mother-in-law for that for she made a very difficult thing so very easy. I was allowed to take my first steps in my new homeland surrounded by those I knew and loved well and I hope my own children feel I did the same for their husbands and wives when the time came for them to marry”. For Queen Louise, the whole mood of the trip was now transformed as she could spend time with her parents and siblings. The King too enjoyed being with his Hesse relations, though he noted later that he couldn’t help but wonder if they had been invited because “the Empress still has more children to see married off yet”. That evening there was another banquet, this time to push the focus to the following day’s wedding ceremony. It was here that the Tsar and his wife presented gifts. For their new daughter-in-law, there was a large ikon of St Edward the Martyr, King of England from 975 until 978 and venerated as a Saint in both the Anglican and Orthodox churches. Lord Derby perhaps took the shine off this gift when he said, a little too loudly, “Murdered, wasn’t he?”.
Then came the other gifts in the form of orders of chivalry. Three velvet cushions were brought forward by footmen, two bearing the Order of St Catherine in the rank of a Dame Grand Cordon, awarded to Maria Georgievna and Queen Louise respectively. For King George, there was the Order of St Andrew which fortunately had been mentioned ahead of time and so the King was able to present the Tsar with the Order of the Garter in return. There were also gifts of jewellery, a diamond and ruby brooch for Queen Louise and a diamond cravat pin for the King. The other Romanov relations offered clocks, tapestry cushions and even perfumes which unsettled the King and Queen as they had no idea whether they should have brought small tokens for each of Maria Georgievna’s new in-laws. The evening was finally brought to a close not with dancing but with a speech by the Tsar in which he gave his blessing to the couple ahead of their big day.
At 11.30am on the morning of the 29th of November 1840, the Empress Alexandra departed the Winter Palace for Anichkov. By tradition, she would bring Maria Georgievna to the Grand Church to be married. It was the Empress who would place one of her many tiaras upon daughter-in-law’s head. The Imperial Jeweller also delivered a diamond necklace and matching earrings which had belonged to Catherine the Great for her to wear, though Maria indicated that she would prefer to wear her amethyst parure which her brother had given to her shortly before her departure from England. “I shall see your jewels are brought with us”, her mother-in-law said kindly, “Then when you change into your evening dress, you can put them on for us all to admire”. The bride’s dress was widely complimented by the ladies of the Russian court who dressed her and the English newspapers noted that whilst the ivory satin gown had been made in Russia, the Princess’ veil was made in England from Honiton lace and amidst the Imperial Eagles “one could clearly see the emblems of England, Scotland, Wales and Ireland as well as the heraldic supporters of the Lion and the Unicorn”.
Though St Petersburg was blanketed in snow and the weather extremely cold, Maria insisted that she would not travel in a closed carriage. She wanted to be seen by the people, something the Tsar acknowledged and congratulated her for. That said, to keep her warm she had to be covered with a huge fur blanket with a second draped around her shoulders which left her feeling sweaty and hot. Fortunately there was just enough time for her to be made presentable once more before the wedding began. At 12pm precisely, the canons of the Peter and Paul Fortress rang out to announce that His Imperial Highness the Tsarevich was about to marry his bride. The Tsar and his wife led the procession with the King and Queen walking behind. Once at their place before the altar of the Grand Church of the Winter Palace, the groom arrived with his young brothers. And then, finally, in the last steps of a journey that had seemed to last forever, Princess Charlotte Louise – now Maria Georgievna – began her procession. She was followed by the older Romanov ladies, then the Tsarevich’s sisters with Princess Augusta of Cambridge leading some of the younger Hesse-Kassels and Strelitzes.
Archpriest Ivan Popov, the Imperial confessor and chief of the palace clergy, led the ceremony with the rings presented and the couple formally betrothed in front of the congregation. At the very last moment, the Tsar sent a chamberlain to whisper into King George’s ear. Though the King was not Orthodox, Nicholas felt George should have the honour of holding the nuptial crown above his sister’s head whilst Grand Duke Michael did the same for the groom. Unfazed, the King held aloft a diamond crown above Maria Georgievna’s head as the bride and groom were led around the lectern three times. With a final prayer, Alexander and Maria were finally proclaimed man and wife to the applause of all within the Grand Chapel. Queen Louise wrote of the experience; “It was so very moving and I’m afraid I wept absolute tears! Though we were all shaken out of that when suddenly every church bell in Petersburg rang out and there was gunfire from the fortress which we had not expected and which caused all of us to cry out in alarm much to the amusement of the Russians”.
Alexander and Maria Georgievna on their wedding day.
At the subsequent wedding breakfast, the King gave a speech in which he praised his sister’s beauty, elegance and charm, her courage and her determination. Though he bid her a fond farewell, this was not his real goodbye. That came much later when George and Louise prepared themselves to leave St Petersburg following the return banquet held at the Dowager Princess Baryatinskya's palace on the banks of the Neva. The Tsar complimented the King on how splendidly everything had been arranged, though there was a sting in the tail; the Empress remarked that she was glad to see Russian hospitality had not been overshadowed. This was presumably a compliment, had the banquet at the Baryatinsky Palace outshone any of the celebrations staged by the Romanovs it would have been taken as an insult. Still, the Empress' remark did not cast a pall over the proceedings and the guests went home satisfied that all due honour had been done.
At the Anichkov Palace the following morning, Queen Louise kissed her sister-in-law goodbye and wished her well; “When the baby is born, you must both come to England”, she said gaily, “I won’t take no for answer!”. With a knowing nod, Sasha led Louise out of the room leaving George and his sister alone together. An awkward silence filled the room. Neither knew what to say.
“You look happy”, George said eventually, holding Maria’s hands in his, “And I am so very proud of you.”
“If I am happy it is because you made it so”
“Oh I doubt that”, the King grinned, “I haven’t been very co-operative in all this. But I…I didn’t want to lose you Lottie. I’ve never wanted to lose you”
Maria began to weep. She held her brother close and whispered in his ear; “You will never lose me Georgie. I’m always with you. Remember that”
Now it was the King’s turn to cry. He smoothed down his coat and tried to ignore the tears falling from his eyes.
“Now you listen to everything Sasha tells you”, he said, his voice breaking with emotion, “And you’ll visit us soon so it won’t be too long before we’re back together again. And I want a letter every day, no excuses now, what?”.
The King made to leave. Just as he reached the door, he turned back to look at his sister. She did look happy. And then George raced forward, throwing his arms about his sister and kissing her cheek.
“I love you Lottie, so very much”, he said, “And I shall love Sasha and your children, I shall love every happiness you know, I shall love every memory you make here. But I shall still love you as if it were just us. We will always be our father's children.”
“How proud he would be”, Lottie nodded through sobs, “How very proud”.
George wiped his eyes. He slowly made toward the door. He didn’t look back. He couldn’t bear to. Just on the other side was the Queen. She held out her hand to her husband and kissed him.
“Let’s go home Georgie”, she said softly, “Let’s go home and meet our baby”.
[1] I had to include this as it always fascinates me as to how members of Royal Families seem far less concerned about their genealogy than we are. In the Duke of Kent's recent memoirs, he mentions his Russian relations ("But I'm not sure how they fit in"). Ah that we should all have such grandmothers...
[2] This is very Victoria. She didn't care so much for whether or not she should be present for grand occasions but rather based her decision to attend on whether she wanted to be present. There's a story about a military review in Aldershot in 1867 which she refused to attend because she was still in mourning. After being told that meant the Princess of Wales would have to go (Victoria already being tired of Alexandra's popularity), she claimed she'd always intended to go to Aldershot and that her mourning must come second to her duty. That was all well and good until the Emperor Maximilian got shot and Victoria found a good excuse to cancel the whole thing.
[3] But not in Hanover of course where (in TTL), she was never Queen consort.
[4] At this time, the British Royal Family had access to three royal yachts still in service from the reign of King George III. Sovereign was the largest.
[5] I've had to use a calculator to work out how long the journey would have taken. The Sovereign being capable of 10-12 knots, the nearest I can approximate from the Port of London to St Petersburg is 7 days. But I stand to be corrected here as nautical speeds are not my speciality!
[6] It's widely reported that the first visit made by a reigning British sovereign to Russia was the state visit of Queen Elizabeth II in 1994. However, Edward VII made a state visit to Russia in 1908 and I believe he had paid a private visit to Russia before then after his accession. From my records, I believe George's visit here is the first visit made but again, I'm happy to be corrected if someone has other statistics.
[7] A knock on effect from our earlier butterflies where the Oriental Crisis is concerned.
[8] Originally a title for the daughters of the Tsar, by the time Alexander II married Marie of Hesse and by Rhine in the OTL, it had come to be used for the wife of the Tsarevich.
[9] Fortnums had been in business for well over 100 years by this time and boasted the Tsar of Russia among the ranks of their grandest patrons.
[10] The language of the Russian Court was French, Russian was only really spoken in private with German following a close second.
[11] And we'll call her Maria from now on.
Notes
Better late than never! This chapter is a little longer than usual as I have a busy weekend ahead so the next might not be till Monday or Tuesday.
Sadly, this is where we leave Charlotte Louise for a while. With these sorts of marriages, it's hard to go into too much detail without derailing our main focus which is of course King George. As with Princess Victoria, I'll try to drop in little updates here and there and Maria Georgievna will make return visits to England. I'll also try to make sure her children get a mention as they arrive too. But certainly for a little while, she's relegated to a B character rather than an A character.
Many thanks for reading!y
I love your colorful. detailed writing. I'm so enthralled.King George V
Part Two, Chapter Twenty-Nine: Goodbye Lottie
In 1948, Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer took several liberties with the truth for their motion picture The Little Empress. One of these inaccuracies concerned the arrival of Princess Charlotte Louise in St Petersburg and her subsequent wedding to the Tsarevich on the 29th of November 1840. In the film, the Tsar (Basil Rathbone) forbids the Princess (Deborah Kerr) from seeing any of her visiting family because he takes an immediate dislike to her when she is cheered by crowds of shivering peasants lining the Nevsky Prospect. He locks Charlotte Louise away in a tower to prevent her from seeing her brother and sister-in-law during the pre-wedding festivities and then claims she is ill after the ceremony robbing her of a last goodbye to the King. Of course, this serves the invented narrative of the film well (Charlotte Louise eventually telling the Tsar on his deathbed that one day she shall rule Russia…) but it bears little relation to the actual events surrounding the wedding of George V’s sister to the Russian Tsarevich.
The King was determined that he wouldn’t enjoy a single second of his time in Russia. He was deliberately obstinate in delaying his preparations for the trip and kept complaining that the Tsar and his wife were “crashing old bores” who would “make the whole thing vulgar and prolonged”. The Queen on the other hand was greatly looking forward to their trip. Empress Alexandra Feodorovna was in fact Louise’s cousin (Alexandra’s mother Louise was the Queen’s aunt), though the pair hadn’t actually met because Alexandra married just before Queen Louise was born. To that end, the Russian Empress had invited every Mecklenburg-Strelitz relative she had to St Petersburg and so as the King would not feel outnumbered, she extended the same generosity to the Hesse-Kassels too. Whilst the Queen said how nice that would be, the King retorted, “Oh not another family reunion Sunny, I’m worn out with them all crowding about us at every turn”. When Louise reminded him that the Empress was a relation, the King replied; "Aren't they all?". [1]
There would however be one less immediate family member for George to worry about. Princess Victoria had extended her visit to Britain following the death of her aunt Augusta to attend the Service of Thanksgiving for her cousin’s marriage. She intended to travel with the King and Queen to Russia to be present at the wedding ceremony itself but that all changed when her grandfather-in-law, King William I of the Netherlands, abdicated. It was now imperative that Victoria return to Holland as soon as possible as her father-in-law’s inauguration and the accompanying festivities were to be held on the 28th of November. But Victoria had other ideas. She insisted that she would still be going to St Petersburg for Princess Charlotte Louise’s wedding on the 29th of November and feeling that she had found just the ruse needed to get her own way, she wrote to her husband saying; “I really should be in St Petersburg and after all, Mama is the Tsar’s sister and she should be represented by someone of senior rank in the family”. The Prince of Orange wrote back a ferocious note reminding his wife that if anyone was to represent the new Queen Anna in Russia, Queen Anna herself would decide who that was to be. In actual fact, she’d already taken care of that, asking her sister Maria (Grand Duchess of Saxe-Weimar-Eisenach) to do the honours. [2]
The inauguration of King William II of the Netherlands. Victoria can be seen standing to the right hand side of Queen Anna.
In a sulk, Victoria left her return travel plans distinctly vague much to the frustration of her husband. Eventually he booked Victoria a passage for the 20th of November and told her that if she was not on board when the ship sailed, he would divorce her. This was an idle-threat on William’s part (he was prone to fits of bad temper in which he intimidated his wife with all kinds of horrible consequences when he felt she had slighted him) but when Victoria complained to her cousin King George about the situation, he sided with his cousin-in-law and admonished Drina for being “quite unreasonable and very silly”. Victoria ultimately returned to the Netherlands as arranged, though the Dutch court knew full well that she had caused unhappiness and some felt slighted that once again she seemed to put her British relatives over her duties in the Netherlands. They were further put out when Victoria left the inauguration ball early on the 28th of November complaining of a headache, yet the following morning she was seen riding out in her carriage with her ladies in waiting. In a letter to her cousin Charlotte Louise, she wished her every happiness in Russia but insensitively warned; “You must of course expect to be hated in your new country because all English princesses are in foreign courts. We are treated most unreasonably because they all know that they are mostly the muddled offspring of princelings and parvenus, whilst we are granddaughters of King George III”.
Meanwhile, another royal cousin proved himself far amenable. Prince George of Cumberland did not expect to be invited to join the King and Queen in Russia and was making arrangements to go home to Berlin. But when King George V heard this, he protested; “But then you’d miss our Christmas at Hanover House! No no, you must stay here and I will make sure you have everything you need”. So it was that Prince George ended up staying on at Buckingham Palace. This did not please the Duke of Cumberland at all however and he wrote to his sister Mary that for Prince George to be included in family events whilst the Duke and his wife were not “is so very spiteful and I am afraid poor Freddie is laid low by the whole ghastly business”. He added somewhat imperiously; “The King should not forget that I am his uncle when all is said and done and I should take precedence over my son. Neither should the Queen forget that Freddie is her aunt and so has as much right to be invited to such events as that dreadful little Underwood creature, perhaps more so”. Cumberland later claimed it was the promotion of his son in the King’s affections at the cost of his own continued exile that made his wife unwell. The Duchess of Cumberland died in June the following year aged 63. [3]
The British government were much in agreement with the sentiments of the unenthusiastic King but dreaded the forthcoming wedding for very different reasons. A particularly unkind piece had appeared in a newspaper (no doubt motivated by Russophobic opinion on the part of the editor) which said “His Majesty has now committed to a further six weeks abroad which has the unhappy consequence of making the King absent from these shores yet once again. In these last twelve months, the King has spent almost 5 of them outside of his Kingdom – yet these travels did not include a visit to Hanover, as was so controversially pointed out earlier this year – and we have to wonder whether he will ape his ancestors in making England his part-time residence, preferring the comfort of continental courts to the his many English estates”. Of course this was derided by those in the know as deeply unfair. George V extended his summer holiday to Germany only to accommodate the wishes of his government in making a trip to Normandy; likewise, it had been the Foreign Secretary who asked him to prolong his absence to represent the United Kingdom at the funeral of the King of Prussia. George was hardly in a position to refuse and as far as Russia was concerned, had the Tsar allowed two wedding ceremonies to take place the King might not have found himself obligated to head for St Petersburg in the first place.
The HMS Royal Sovereign.
Charlie Phipps was determined to nip this criticism in the bud and cleverly, he suggested that the Royal Party might prefer to travel on the Royal Sovereign and not the Royal George, departing from London instead of Southampton. [4] Phipps reasoned that the Sovereign was not only bigger and more comfortable but that it had a special connection which the Russians would appreciate; at a review of the fleet in 1814 held to celebrate the Treaty of Paris, the Tsar’s predecessor and older brother Alexander I had joined the Prince Regent and the King of Prussia on board the Sovereign to lead fifteen ships of the line and thirty-one frigates out to sea. The King was impressed by this thoughtful gesture and was certain the Tsar would be too. In reality, Phipps knew the Sovereign to be a faster vessel than the George which would cut the King’s trip abroad in half from six weeks to just three [5]. The only problem was that there might not be enough room to accommodate everybody on board. Fortunately, circumstances intervened and the Cambridges elected not to join the King and Queen in Russia on the grounds that the Duchess was suffering from a head cold. It’s more likely they did not want to be met with gossip about their son and heir. Instead, the Duke of Cambridge sent some money to his daughter Augusta and told her to join her grandparents in Neustrelitz so that she could represent the Cambridges in St Petersburg instead. Augusta was delighted as it meant an opportunity to see her cousin Fritz (the Queen’s eldest brother) once again. The two had kept up some correspondence for some time and everybody in the family saw the prospect of wedding bells in the future.
George’s visit to Russia marked the first ever made by a reigning British sovereign but he was only to make the journey in a private capacity; this was no state visit but a personal one for an intimate family occasion, though just how intimate a ceremony that hosted 800 guests could be is perhaps left to the interpretation of the reader [6]. Whilst it was custom for a delegation from the Foreign Office to join the Sovereign whenever he travelled abroad, the King had tried to maintain the non-political nature of his sister's wedding by asking the Prime Minister if he had any objection at all to the King taking the Joint Clerk of the Privy Council William Bathurst with him instead of someone more senior. Sir James was more than content with this arrangement until news came from Egypt just days before the King and Queen were to leave for Russia; Ibrahim Ali had capitulated. Faced with an ultimatum and the loss of the defected Ottoman Fleet which proclaimed their allegiance for the Sultan once more, any hopes of his taking Constantinople had been dashed. He must now await the outcome of the London Conference the following year. [7]
Politically this was a great triumph for the Tories. They roared their approval in the Commons as the Whigs, led by Henry Labouchere on behalf of the Leader of the Opposition Lord Normanby, tried to deny just how close to a Europe-wide conflict the Great Powers had come. They were reminded in no uncertain terms that had the Whigs remained in power, Lord Palmerston would have insisted on sending gunboats whilst Sir James Graham’s government had wrestled victory from the Alis without a single shot fired. This was very much the tone the majority of the newspapers took and there was much talk of how the improved Anglo-Russian relationship had prevented a terrible crisis. Consequently, anti-Russian sentiment seemed to thaw just enough to see the odd favourable comment made in the Tsar’s favour. This would prove to be a huge relief to the King who was concerned that nobody would turn out to see his sister’s departure from St Katharine’s Dock but it was also something that saw Sir James Graham about face, wishing now to warm the Russian relationship further ahead of the all-important peace talks in February 1841. Rather than the Joint Clerk of the Privy Council, Lord Derby himself was to accompany the royal party to Russia which confused the King who remarked; “So much for this thing being kept in the family”. Also joining the royal party on their journey to St Petersburg were the Duke and Duchess of Buccleuch, Major Billy Smith and Charlie Phipps.
On the evening before the Sovereign was due to set sail, the King gave a small family dinner party at Buckingham Palace for the Tsarevich and Princess Charlotte Louise. It was an incredibly simple affair, very much to the private tastes of the King and Queen. Indeed, there were no servants with the Queen ordering a simple hot and cold buffet to which those invited could help themselves. The Sussexes, Princess Mary, the Cambridges and Princess Sophia were all invited to bid their niece goodbye and there was much toasting with champagne and long drawn-out speech giving for the duration. As the guests departed, only a handful held back; Princess Mary, the Duke of Cambridge and of course the Tsarevich and Princess Charlotte Louise. Princess Mary’s farewell to her niece was particularly touching. In her diary, Queen Louise recorded how; “Poor Aunt Mary really was so very overcome which surprised us all. She kept weeping and kissing dear Lottie on the cheek and holding her hand very tightly. She said, ‘Now do not forget your silly old Aunt Mary little one’ and begged her to remember to write often. When she finally came to leave, Aunt Mary seized Sasha in her arms and kissed him too saying ‘You must bring her back to us whenever you can, you must promise you will do that’. And then she tottered away and we could hear her crying all the way!”.
The following morning, a great procession was staged from the early hours of the morning as carts were loaded up to take the King and Queen’s luggage to St Katharine’s Dock, as well as Princess Charlotte Louise’s personal possessions she had chosen from Marlborough House to take to her new home. But inside Marlborough House, there was another parting to be concluded. Charlotte Louise’s lady in waiting, childhood friend and most devoted companion Lady Anne Anson had asked if she might be spared waving the Princess off from the dockside. “I could not bear to see you grow smaller and smaller in the distance Ma’am”, she said sadly. Lady Anson had been the closest thing to a sister Charlotte Louise had, she was perhaps even closer to Anne than she was to her cousin Princess Victoria. It had been Charlotte Louise’s wish to take Lady Anne with her to Russia as a lady-in-waiting but Lady Anne’s husband saw no life for the pair in St Petersburg and besides, the Empress forbad it. “It would be quite improper for you to bring an English lady with you”, she said, “For I have taken great trouble and care to choose ladies from my own household who would be most upset if you were to favour an old friend over new acquaintances”. Lady Anson would always remain a close friend to Princess Charlotte Louise, indeed they corresponded for decades to come and the Ansons made frequent trips to Russia to visit. But for Charlotte Louise, it now became apparent that every link she had to her homeland was being removed from her; she was to travel to Russia with only her husband to support her following their marriage.
By the time the carriages carrying the King and Queen and Princess Charlotte Louise and the Tsarevich left Buckingham Palace, quite a crowd had formed which was sustained all the way to Tower Hill. It was an enthusiastic one too, though some miserly journalists suggested this was more because Londoners always enjoyed a bit of pageantry to brighten their dull working day and in no way reflected any change of heart concerning the Princess’ marriage. It was noted that some Russian emigres had joined the crowds to present Princess Charlotte Louise with a posy of flowers before she boarded the Sovereign and it was also noted that she removed the taffeta scarf keeping her hat secure so that she might use it to wave goodbye to those who had come to wish her well. “There was no public farewell in a formal sense”, the Times reported, “For His Majesty was present and will say a private goodbye to his dear sister in the grandest of settings, no doubt a more comfortable experience than it might have been had the King been forced to wave his sister off to her new home from the noisy London dockside”. Princess Charlotte Louise recalled later that she wished she had been able to see the crowds from the deck of the ship as she left but her eyes were simply too full of tears.
The Sovereign’s route to St Petersburg took seven days across the North Sea, along the Skagerrak and Kattegat, into the Baltic Sea and across the Gulf of Finland. Empress Alexandra had sent a very detailed catalogue of what the British arrivals should expect but surely nothing could prepare them for the welcome staged on their behalf by the Tsar and his wife. A beautiful barge highly decorated was sent out to bring the party ashore, the dock teeming with people craning their necks so that they might be the first to spy their future Tsarevna [8]. It was 2 degrees below and so against the pure white of the snow that covered everything in sight in an elegant soft blanket, the colours of the Union flag and the Imperial standard were made that much brighter. A huge dais had been constructed with almost every member of the Tsar’s family waiting to receive the British party, the ladies covered in sumptuous furs with small silver boxes filled with coals hidden in their muffs to keep their gloved hands warm in the freezing temperatures – an idea supposedly imported from Manchuria. The men tried their best not to shiver in their military uniforms.
The Palace Square, Winter Palace, St Petersburg, 1840.
When the royal party arrived at the dais, the Tsar greeted the King before he greeted his own son. Kissing George on each cheek and shaking his hand, the Empress did likewise, taking Queen Louise in her arms before kissing her future daughter in law. Then the carriages arrived. The Tsarevich and Princess Charlotte Louise might be the happy couple but they were to travel in the second landau – the first was reserved for the Tsar and his wife. After them came smaller carriages for King George and Queen Louise, the rest of the Romanov clan and the court officials. Lord Derby was surprised to find himself sharing a carriage with the Tsar’s daughter the Grand Duchess Maria (Duchess of Leuchtenberg) who noticed how cold the Foreign Secretary looked and who nodded to her coachman who then produced a bottle of vodka from his coat. “Never have I welcomed the sight of strong drink as I did that day”, Derby later remarked. He would need some sustenance. Instead of being driven directly to the Winter Palace for the welcome reception, the Tsar had planned a procession around the city with his guests treated to the magnificent sights of Kazan Cathedral, the Bolshoi Theatre and St Isaac’s. It would be another hour before the British contingent found themselves in the splendour (and warmth) of the Winter Palace.
The welcome reception was quite informal by Romanov standards. The King and Queen were given a suite of rooms to use temporarily so that they might change out of their travelling clothes but they were a little unsure as to what they should wear for what appeared to be a kind of buffet-style afternoon tea. The Empress sent word to the Duchess of Buccleuch that she wanted to know what Queen Louise had decided to wear for the occasion. Sensing a French-style trick at hand, the Duchess replied, “Oh something warm and comfortable”. The reply came back; “It is only that Her Imperial Majesty wished to know whether or not the Queen was still observing half mourning for the late Princess Augusta and should like to have shown sympathy if that were the case”. The Duchess of Buccleuch was suitably admonished and when the King and Queen finally appeared in what might best be described as country estate comfortables, the Tsar took great interest in the tweed of the King’s jacket. George would later send him bolts of a similar material for Nicholas to have made up into suits.
There was of course to be much formality over the next few days but in this corner of the Winter Palace, everything was put onto the level of a family get together. The King and Queen’s extended family would not arrive until the next day but the Empress made a point of talking about her Strelitz relations to put the Queen at ease whilst the Tsar and the Tsarevich gave the King and Lord Derby a tour of one of the many picture galleries. As they wandered, the Tsar noticed that the King looked a little on edge; “Well gentlemen”, he said as if the idea had just struck him, “What say we leave the ladies for a brief moment and have a smoke”. Lord Derby would note later that he had never seen anyone light up as happily as the King did that afternoon. For someone who had dreaded his trip, the King admitted in a letter to his uncle Sussex that “The Tsar and his wife really have gone to great lengths to make us feel very welcome and most comfortable, though I do find all the excess of the place a little vulgar”.
In this, George was possibly referring to his billet for the duration of his stay in Russia. The Tsar had decided to give the Anichkov Palace, that grand 18th century imperial palace at the intersection of the Nevsky Prospect and the Fontanka River, to the Tsarevich and his bride as their St Petersburg home. It had been renovated by Alexander I some 20 years earlier when the Grand Duchess Elena vacated it but it showed no signs of age. Anichkov was grand and imposing of course but the private rooms were almost cosy. “I do not want you to think we did not want you to stay with us here”, the Empress explained as she bid the Queen farewell on the journey to Anichkov, “But I thought that it might be nice for Lotya to spend her first night in her new home with her English family. That way she will always think of you there and not so far away in London”.
At Anichkov, the King and Queen were given a small army of servants to care for them with valets and ladies’ maids on hand to provide anything Their Majesties might need. Even their breakfast trays had been carefully thought out with tea provided instead of coffee and the Empress had even ordered her Chamberlain to order “English sundries” from London with two large hampers especially brought over from Fortnum & Mason packed with jams and marmalades, gentlemen’s relish and even Scotch Eggs which the Empress assumed was some kind of breakfast food. [9] The same comforts were extended to Princess Charlotte Louise of course, though she had far more important things to worry about than what she was to eat first thing in the morning. In her suite, she was introduced to the ladies of the court set aside to help her prepare for the two important ceremonies ahead; her reception into the Orthodox Church and of course, her wedding day. But she needn’t have worried. The Empress travelled to Anichkov personally to put her at her ease and when the Princess responded in Russian, Alexandra kissed her gently whispering kindly; “Oh no my dear, they would much prefer French”. [10]
Anichkov, 1850.
The Tsar was uncertain as to whether the King and Queen would want to attend the ceremony for Charlotte Louise’s reception into the Orthodox faith, after which there was to be a “family-only” reception. “On the contrary”, the King replied, “We must see the way things are done here”. He possibly regretted the decision when a few hours later he found himself forced to stand in the Grand Church of the Winter Palace for what seemed an eternity. He didn’t understand a single word, though Grand Duke Michael stood beside the King and Queen trying helpfully to explain what was happening. The King muttered; “We brought Missy into our church within 25 minutes”. Fortunately, Princess Charlotte Louise was far more moved by the experience. Dressed in a white gown embroidered with an olive branch motif, she was anointed with chrism oil in the sign of the cross on her forehead, eyes, nostrils, mouth, breast, hands and feet so as to be sealed with the gift of the Holy Ghost. The Empress stood as her godmother and was the first to say out loud the name by which the Princess would now be known for the rest of her life; Maria Georgievna. [11]
Though she was never as pious as some of her relatives (or indeed her own children), Maria Georgievna was nonetheless a sincere convert to Orthodoxy. She came to appreciate its traditions and rituals, though it was noted that she nonetheless continued to celebrate Christmas Eve on the 24th of December as she did in England as well as celebrating the occasion according to the Russian Orthodox liturgical calendar later in January. Her children were always grateful for this and indeed, her daughter the Grand Duchess Maria (later Queen of the Netherlands) recalled how for nearly a whole month her mother celebrated Christmas with parties and gift-giving well before the other Romanovs began their own festivities. Her son Grand Duke George remembered how his mother “Introduced us all very early to the traditions of an English Christmas, though none of us were ever reconciled to that horrid fruit pudding she so adored, neither did we care for English songs which we all thought sounded very ugly”.
After the reception ceremony, there was a grand luncheon held at Anichkov where the extended Hesse-Kassel and Mecklenburg-Strelitz relations had finally arrived. “Everything had an atmosphere of comfort and ease to it”, Maria Georgievna later recalled, “I was very grateful to my mother-in-law for that for she made a very difficult thing so very easy. I was allowed to take my first steps in my new homeland surrounded by those I knew and loved well and I hope my own children feel I did the same for their husbands and wives when the time came for them to marry”. For Queen Louise, the whole mood of the trip was now transformed as she could spend time with her parents and siblings. The King too enjoyed being with his Hesse relations, though he noted later that he couldn’t help but wonder if they had been invited because “the Empress still has more children to see married off yet”. That evening there was another banquet, this time to push the focus to the following day’s wedding ceremony. It was here that the Tsar and his wife presented gifts. For their new daughter-in-law, there was a large ikon of St Edward the Martyr, King of England from 975 until 978 and venerated as a Saint in both the Anglican and Orthodox churches. Lord Derby perhaps took the shine off this gift when he said, a little too loudly, “Murdered, wasn’t he?”.
Then came the other gifts in the form of orders of chivalry. Three velvet cushions were brought forward by footmen, two bearing the Order of St Catherine in the rank of a Dame Grand Cordon, awarded to Maria Georgievna and Queen Louise respectively. For King George, there was the Order of St Andrew which fortunately had been mentioned ahead of time and so the King was able to present the Tsar with the Order of the Garter in return. There were also gifts of jewellery, a diamond and ruby brooch for Queen Louise and a diamond cravat pin for the King. The other Romanov relations offered clocks, tapestry cushions and even perfumes which unsettled the King and Queen as they had no idea whether they should have brought small tokens for each of Maria Georgievna’s new in-laws. The evening was finally brought to a close not with dancing but with a speech by the Tsar in which he gave his blessing to the couple ahead of their big day.
At 11.30am on the morning of the 29th of November 1840, the Empress Alexandra departed the Winter Palace for Anichkov. By tradition, she would bring Maria Georgievna to the Grand Church to be married. It was the Empress who would place one of her many tiaras upon daughter-in-law’s head. The Imperial Jeweller also delivered a diamond necklace and matching earrings which had belonged to Catherine the Great for her to wear, though Maria indicated that she would prefer to wear her amethyst parure which her brother had given to her shortly before her departure from England. “I shall see your jewels are brought with us”, her mother-in-law said kindly, “Then when you change into your evening dress, you can put them on for us all to admire”. The bride’s dress was widely complimented by the ladies of the Russian court who dressed her and the English newspapers noted that whilst the ivory satin gown had been made in Russia, the Princess’ veil was made in England from Honiton lace and amidst the Imperial Eagles “one could clearly see the emblems of England, Scotland, Wales and Ireland as well as the heraldic supporters of the Lion and the Unicorn”.
Though St Petersburg was blanketed in snow and the weather extremely cold, Maria insisted that she would not travel in a closed carriage. She wanted to be seen by the people, something the Tsar acknowledged and congratulated her for. That said, to keep her warm she had to be covered with a huge fur blanket with a second draped around her shoulders which left her feeling sweaty and hot. Fortunately there was just enough time for her to be made presentable once more before the wedding began. At 12pm precisely, the canons of the Peter and Paul Fortress rang out to announce that His Imperial Highness the Tsarevich was about to marry his bride. The Tsar and his wife led the procession with the King and Queen walking behind. Once at their place before the altar of the Grand Church of the Winter Palace, the groom arrived with his young brothers. And then, finally, in the last steps of a journey that had seemed to last forever, Princess Charlotte Louise – now Maria Georgievna – began her procession. She was followed by the older Romanov ladies, then the Tsarevich’s sisters with Princess Augusta of Cambridge leading some of the younger Hesse-Kassels and Strelitzes.
Archpriest Ivan Popov, the Imperial confessor and chief of the palace clergy, led the ceremony with the rings presented and the couple formally betrothed in front of the congregation. At the very last moment, the Tsar sent a chamberlain to whisper into King George’s ear. Though the King was not Orthodox, Nicholas felt George should have the honour of holding the nuptial crown above his sister’s head whilst Grand Duke Michael did the same for the groom. Unfazed, the King held aloft a diamond crown above Maria Georgievna’s head as the bride and groom were led around the lectern three times. With a final prayer, Alexander and Maria were finally proclaimed man and wife to the applause of all within the Grand Chapel. Queen Louise wrote of the experience; “It was so very moving and I’m afraid I wept absolute tears! Though we were all shaken out of that when suddenly every church bell in Petersburg rang out and there was gunfire from the fortress which we had not expected and which caused all of us to cry out in alarm much to the amusement of the Russians”.
Alexander and Maria Georgievna on their wedding day.
At the subsequent wedding breakfast, the King gave a speech in which he praised his sister’s beauty, elegance and charm, her courage and her determination. Though he bid her a fond farewell, this was not his real goodbye. That came much later when George and Louise prepared themselves to leave St Petersburg following the return banquet held at the Dowager Princess Baryatinskya's palace on the banks of the Neva. The Tsar complimented the King on how splendidly everything had been arranged, though there was a sting in the tail; the Empress remarked that she was glad to see Russian hospitality had not been overshadowed. This was presumably a compliment, had the banquet at the Baryatinsky Palace outshone any of the celebrations staged by the Romanovs it would have been taken as an insult. Still, the Empress' remark did not cast a pall over the proceedings and the guests went home satisfied that all due honour had been done.
At the Anichkov Palace the following morning, Queen Louise kissed her sister-in-law goodbye and wished her well; “When the baby is born, you must both come to England”, she said gaily, “I won’t take no for answer!”. With a knowing nod, Sasha led Louise out of the room leaving George and his sister alone together. An awkward silence filled the room. Neither knew what to say.
“You look happy”, George said eventually, holding Maria’s hands in his, “And I am so very proud of you.”
“If I am happy it is because you made it so”
“Oh I doubt that”, the King grinned, “I haven’t been very co-operative in all this. But I…I didn’t want to lose you Lottie. I’ve never wanted to lose you”
Maria began to weep. She held her brother close and whispered in his ear; “You will never lose me Georgie. I’m always with you. Remember that”
Now it was the King’s turn to cry. He smoothed down his coat and tried to ignore the tears falling from his eyes.
“Now you listen to everything Sasha tells you”, he said, his voice breaking with emotion, “And you’ll visit us soon so it won’t be too long before we’re back together again. And I want a letter every day, no excuses now, what?”.
The King made to leave. Just as he reached the door, he turned back to look at his sister. She did look happy. And then George raced forward, throwing his arms about his sister and kissing her cheek.
“I love you Lottie, so very much”, he said, “And I shall love Sasha and your children, I shall love every happiness you know, I shall love every memory you make here. But I shall still love you as if it were just us. We will always be our father's children.”
“How proud he would be”, Lottie nodded through sobs, “How very proud”.
George wiped his eyes. He slowly made toward the door. He didn’t look back. He couldn’t bear to. Just on the other side was the Queen. She held out her hand to her husband and kissed him.
“Let’s go home Georgie”, she said softly, “Let’s go home and meet our baby”.
[1] I had to include this as it always fascinates me as to how members of Royal Families seem far less concerned about their genealogy than we are. In the Duke of Kent's recent memoirs, he mentions his Russian relations ("But I'm not sure how they fit in"). Ah that we should all have such grandmothers...
[2] This is very Victoria. She didn't care so much for whether or not she should be present for grand occasions but rather based her decision to attend on whether she wanted to be present. There's a story about a military review in Aldershot in 1867 which she refused to attend because she was still in mourning. After being told that meant the Princess of Wales would have to go (Victoria already being tired of Alexandra's popularity), she claimed she'd always intended to go to Aldershot and that her mourning must come second to her duty. That was all well and good until the Emperor Maximilian got shot and Victoria found a good excuse to cancel the whole thing.
[3] But not in Hanover of course where (in TTL), she was never Queen consort.
[4] At this time, the British Royal Family had access to three royal yachts still in service from the reign of King George III. Sovereign was the largest.
[5] I've had to use a calculator to work out how long the journey would have taken. The Sovereign being capable of 10-12 knots, the nearest I can approximate from the Port of London to St Petersburg is 7 days. But I stand to be corrected here as nautical speeds are not my speciality!
[6] It's widely reported that the first visit made by a reigning British sovereign to Russia was the state visit of Queen Elizabeth II in 1994. However, Edward VII made a state visit to Russia in 1908 and I believe he had paid a private visit to Russia before then after his accession. From my records, I believe George's visit here is the first visit made but again, I'm happy to be corrected if someone has other statistics.
[7] A knock on effect from our earlier butterflies where the Oriental Crisis is concerned.
[8] Originally a title for the daughters of the Tsar, by the time Alexander II married Marie of Hesse and by Rhine in the OTL, it had come to be used for the wife of the Tsarevich.
[9] Fortnums had been in business for well over 100 years by this time and boasted the Tsar of Russia among the ranks of their grandest patrons.
[10] The language of the Russian Court was French, Russian was only really spoken in private with German following a close second.
[11] And we'll call her Maria from now on.
Notes
Better late than never! This chapter is a little longer than usual as I have a busy weekend ahead so the next might not be till Monday or Tuesday.
Sadly, this is where we leave Charlotte Louise for a while. With these sorts of marriages, it's hard to go into too much detail without derailing our main focus which is of course King George. As with Princess Victoria, I'll try to drop in little updates here and there and Maria Georgievna will make return visits to England. I'll also try to make sure her children get a mention as they arrive too. But certainly for a little while, she's relegated to a B character rather than an A character.
Many thanks for reading!
just fabulous work!!!King George V
Part Three, Chapter Fifteen: A House Divided
It was a misty morning on the 28th of October 1843 when a packet steamer docked at St Katharine’s in London, a small collection of weary travellers descending from the passenger deck to the cobbled street below. Peddlers carrying trays of hot pies and paper bags filled with roasted chestnuts yelled out into the haze, coachmen jostled for position along Mews Street hoping to pick up a generous fare and beggars leaned against soot-stained walls holding aloft tin mugs for a few coppers from London’s latest new arrivals. Amid the scene, Charlie Phipps stood looking anxiously towards the ship, desperately trying to avoid the hawkers and vagrants alike, the bite of the October morning kept out by a thick beaver-fur coat. After almost every passenger had disembarked, Phipps looked down at his pocket watch. Had he been given the wrong time, he wondered. Then, he gazed back up at the deck where a sailor was struggling to pull a large trunk down the ladder. Another stepped in to help him. Then, a third emerged, a wizened figure in a black frock coat with fur trim around the neck holding on to the sailor’s arm. He was tall and thin with a strong roman nose under which a bushy grey moustache twirled at the edges. He used a cane and the support of the sailor to make his way to the ladder, animatedly chatting away as he followed his trunk down onto the dockside. He gave the sailor a coin. The sailor smiled and shook the old gentleman’s hand. Phipps took a deep breath and made his way across the cobbles.
“Your Royal Highness”, he said softly, giving a small bow of the neck, “I am His Majesty’s Private Secretary, welcome to London”
The Duke of Cumberland narrowed his eyes and looked Phipps up and down.
“What a curious thing it is to be welcomed back to one’s own country”, he mused, reaching out his gloved hand to offer a friendly greeting, “Might I take your arm sir? I am weary from my journey”
Phipps gallantly helped the Duke out toward Mews Street where the cabbies looked on with some curiosity. At the end of the road stood a carriage painted in light grey with rich blue velvet curtains at the windows. On the door was painted the Royal Coat of Arms in silver, almost glowing as the gas lamps picked it out in the gauzy morning light. Phipps opened the carriage door and helped the Duke of Cumberland inside. Climbing in after his charge, Phipps rapped on the top of the coach and it began its slow trundle away from Mews Street into Tower Hill.
“His Majesty apologises Sir; he would have liked to have welcomed you personally but he is otherwise detained this morning”
“Humph”, the Duke snorted, “I should wager he’s still in his bed, what? My father would never have allowed it. The best of the day wasted in a pit. Young men today simply do not appreciate the enemy of time. Where am I to lodge?”
“St James’ Palace, Your Royal Highness”, Phipps explained kindly, “Princess Sophia will receive you”
“I am glad”, Cumberland nodded, “It has been too long since I saw my sister. She was always kind to me”
A brief silence descended, the Duke holding on to a rope on the carriage door to steady himself as the coach swayed to and fro along the bump and rattle of the London streets.
“This girl my son is to marry…a pleasant young lady is she?”
The Duke of Cumberland
Phipps was taken aback by the question. He was suddenly reminded of just how much a stranger to the Royal Family the old Duke had become. Cumberland had once been a figure of great public interest, not because he inspired affection but because he was so very much despised by the press, politicians and people alike. His efforts to unseat his elder brother as Regent for King George V had finally seen him evicted from the country he loved. In his self-imposed exile in Berlin, the Duke’s only real connection with his former life came by virtue of his wife’s family, the Prussian Royal Family extending the odd dinner invitation to the Cumberlands bringing a rare opportunity for the Duke to don his uniform, orders and decorations and remind himself of what it was to be a Prince at court. His son and heir, Prince George, had rehabilitated the Cumberland family reputation somewhat, becoming a much-loved friend to the King and well-liked by other members of the Royal Family. But this was not extended to the Duke who, now a widower, lived on a meagre allowance (by royal standards at least) with a skeleton staff. He rarely entertained and had not seen his son for months. Such a life seemed to have knocked the fight out of the old man. Phipps noticed his hands shook a little and each of his 72 years seemed to be etched on his wrinkled face.
“The Princess is delightful”, Phipps replied, feeling a little sad for Cumberland, “She arrives tomorrow”
“Not consulted”, the Duke said with a sigh.
“Sir?”
“I was not consulted”, Cumberland said, fishing for his handkerchief to mop his teary eyes, though whether this was from emotion or the harshness of the morning chill Phipps could not tell, “Such is my station now”
At St James’, Phipps helped the Duke out of the carriage, across Friary Court and through the Queen’s Door which led to the modest apartment where the Duke’s sister Princess Sophia lived. The 66-year-old was seated on a chair in the lobby, a lady in waiting at her side, dressed in her finest awaiting her guest. Sophia was now completely blind, her hair totally white under it’s lace cap, her hands unsteady.
“Meine liebe schwester…”
Cumberland pottered his way toward Sophia who leaned against her lady in waiting to rise from her chair. She held out her arms before her and waited to feel her brother’s kiss on her cheek. Both stood for a moment, weeping and holding on to each other’s arms.
“Come inside now dear”, Sophia said gently, “I have so very much to tell you”
Phipps watched as brother and sister walked away into Sophia’s apartment. The pathetic scene left him feeling quite sullen.
Contrary to his uncle’s assessment, the King was actually wide awake and busy with his morning papers at Buckingham Palace – he simply didn’t wish to spend a moment longer in Cumberland’s company than was absolutely necessary. Despite this unwelcome arrival however, George was in good spirits. His day had begun with a letter from Princess Agnes of Anhalt-Dessau, a brief note saying how much she had enjoyed their meeting at Trechtinghausen but which was accompanied by a drawing of two cats dancing on a roof. Underneath, Agnes had written the caption “Cat Dance!”. It was so charming that the King set it among the objects on his desk, grinning each time it caught his eye. It made the rather tedious report from the Treasury bearable. JC Herries was predicting another difficult winter ahead. The harvest was poor and some grains in short supply. A rise in prices was inevitable and the cushion of the dreaded income tax was soon to dissipate as the government had to honour its promise and phase it out within the six-month time frame agreed in Cabinet.
George puffed on a cigarette and turned his attention instead to his Foreign Office briefing, a school of politics that interested him far more than economic policy (which he never really understood). It was not exactly edifying reading. The King of Afghanistan was once again squeezing British traders, the Russians now gaining the upper hand there. In Hong Kong, there was growing animosity to the British in their new colony. The Straits Pact was holding. Just. Meanwhile in Spain, Espartero had been ousted as predicted but the situation was described as stable. Isabella II had been declared to have reached the age of majority, though she was only 13, approving the 1837 Spanish constitution and installing a liberal government led by Salustiano de Olózaga – a much needed boost for the Anglo-Spanish trade agreement being negotiated in Madrid.
Away from the King’s Study, Princess Mary was bounding through the corridors of Buckingham Palace ensuring that all was ready for the wedding of Prince George of Cumberland and Princess Auguste of Hesse-Kassel. For all her faults, Mary was proving to be an excellent hostess and on her watch, the Palace had recaptured the glitter of the past which Queen Louise had sought to curtail somewhat. Though the Royal Household found Mary to be a formidable mistress, she was not unkind or unnecessarily demanding unless her orders were not carried out to the letter – in which case she could erupt until matters were settled to her liking. The wedding of Prince George was to take place in two days’ time and so it was that Mary paid particular attention to the Chapel Royal. Whilst carrying out her inspection, she spied the Bishop of London (who was to perform the marriage ceremony, the Archbishop of Canterbury being unwell) casting his eye over the altar. Catching Princess Mary’s eye, the Dean bowed and smiled.
“Your Royal Highness…”
“Now I shan’t have a thing changed”, Mary boomed accusingly, “Why are you here?”
“I have an audience with His Majesty, Ma’am”, the Bishop explained, “But it has been delayed as I believe the Prime Minister has not yet been dismissed”
“Dismissed?”
“Yes Ma’am, he is still in audience with His Majesty”
“How disappointing”, she sighed, “Well do not clutter yourself in here, I have much to do and I can’t have Bishops under my feet”
“Quite Ma’am”, the Bishop smiled awkwardly, “I shall…”
He looked about for some kind of indication as to where else he might wait.
“I shall…wait in the corridor”
Mary smiled and nodded approvingly, turning her attention to the altar where the Bishop had just put a cushion on which the wedding bands might be placed. She sighed and moved the cushion an inch to the left, patting it for good measure.
The Prime Minister’s weekly audience with the King had been brought forward, the wedding gala for the Cumberlands knocking it off the agenda at it’s usual time. It marked the first since the King’s return from Germany and there was much to discuss. Sir James Graham had resolved to curtail the King’s foreign travels for a time and had seemingly found a way to enforce the new restriction without appearing to exert too much authority. Charlie Phipps had defended his master well when the topic had been raised before George V’s departure for Germany and Graham had promised that the King would be “kept busy”. The Prime Minister wished to hush criticism that the Sovereign was spending too much time abroad whilst also keeping His Majesty’s interests diverted away from the Foreign Office. To affect this, Graham proposed a royal progress which would see the King visit Scotland for the first time since his coronation. There had not been an official tour north of the border since the reign of George IV because much of George V’s reign thus far had fallen under the Long Regency. George had very little interest in Scotland, his only memories associated with it being a brief holiday or two spent at Abbotsford with his estranged mother.
But the Scottish tour of 1822 had been a huge success, a display of pageantry and pomp choreographed by the late Sir Walter Scott to introduce King George IV to his people in Scotland in a series of galas, fetes and public appearances that all agreed had done much to endear those who saw His Late Majesty to the monarchy. Indeed, the only place George IV’s wife was ever received warmly by the majority of the British people was in Scotland. She had even planned to build a new palace for herself there, her assessment being that the Scots were far friendlier than the English (though it must be said she saw little of Scotland beyond the country estates of friends). King George V was less enthusiastic about the idea of touring Scotland and even more so when the Prime Minister proposed that his tour should be extended well beyond the fortnight his parents had spent there. Graham suggested that the King spend eight weeks in Scotland, recreating the visit of his father in 1822 in Edinburgh but then moving on to tour Glasgow, Stirling, Dundee, St Andrews and finally Aberdeen. Officially, the motive of the tour was to introduce the Scots to their King but in reality, Graham simply wanted the King to be elsewhere when the new parliamentary session opened in February, something that didn’t suit the King’s purpose at all. If anything, he intended to watch parliament all the more closely because he intended that they should assist him in bringing some resolution to recent headaches.
King George IV and Queen Louise at Hopetoun, Edinburgh, 1822.
Understandably, the King was furious when he discovered that the Landtag in his “other Kingdom” had confirmed the validity of his cousin’s marriage. But that was merely the overture. Buoyed by his success (and a healthy cash injection to his beleaguered finances), George Cambridge had decided that there was only one thing outstanding yet to be settled following his marriage to Franziska Fritz; he wanted his royal rank back. He was advised this was a hopeless case for in the United Kingdom, there was no such thing as birthright when it came to royal titles and styles. These were in the sole gift of the monarch and whilst convention dictated that George was indeed entitled to be styled as a royal prince of the United Kingdom of Great Britain etc, the King was well within his rights to remove that style if he so wished. But George Cambridge had other ideas. He had already instructed a solicitor in England to look into the possibility of approaching the Committee of Privileges on the matter, news which quickly reached the Palace and sent the King into one of his temper tantrums. The King had been warned that George Cambridge was by no means done with his attempts to restore his reputation but even before this, the recent difficulties borne of his decision to recognise his late uncle’s marriage had inspired the King to take action in some way to prevent a similar situation ever arising again. The rumours coming from Erfurt made the matter both pressing and urgent. George V consulted the Attorney General to help him put together a plan of attack and now the King wished to put these proposals before his Prime Minister with a view to Cabinet approval and a parliamentary vote.
Though in later years George V would insist that he had always reacted to events rather than to proactively affect change, this wasn’t entirely accurate for in November 1843 he took a monumental decision which would perhaps become remembered as George V’s biggest contribution to the British monarchy, certainly during his early reign. Pragmatic and with one eye on the future, what the King was about to do would forever change the way the monarchy operated and it would have very tangible effects in the decades to come. He was not motivated by spite in this, he did not act simply to prevent his cousin from causing yet another scandal – though it must be said that George was advised that if Cambridge did press his case in England, the public mood may well be on his side – rather, the King acted as he did because in the last fifteen years, the only real scandal to affect the monarchy emerged from one thing and one thing only – the Royal Marriages Act of 1772. He admitted that he had not handled the fallout of these incidences well and that, whilst he tried to act out of kindness where his late uncle was concerned, he had effectively proven the act to be a catalyst for crisis. What George III had intended to protect the monarchy from scandal had actually set it on a direct course for public humiliation. The Royal Marriages Act could not be allowed to stand a moment longer.
It should be remembered that the Royal Marriages Act had never been popular in England, indeed, it was only narrowly passed by Lord North in the first place. When George III introduced the bill, the aristocracy were immediately offended because they believed that it was little more than a legal reminder that the Royal Family were a cut above any Duke or Earl not in terms of rank but in terms of pedigree. The message sent to a gentry which had actually provided one or two royal consorts in their time was that the royal bloodline was far too precious to be sullied with commoner blood ever again and that, much like the Stuarts, the Hanoverians considered themselves to be an impeccable breed for whom the mere daughter of a Duke or an Earl would never do. One of the most ferocious opponents of the bill was the Whig titan Charles James Fox. He believed George III’s behaviour was autocratic, even tyrannical. He fought to repeal the bill once it had passed, almost succeeding but for 18 votes. But at the time, the legislation delivered exactly what George III wanted and so, for the next 72 years, the status quo was redefined on royal authority regardless of the troubles it caused for two of George III’s own children. Now, George V had had enough. Something must be done, and quickly, before the Royal Family became caught in a spiral of controversy relating to a bill which had ultimately caused more harm than good.
George V’s objective was a fairly simple one: to relax the harsh restrictions of the Royal Marriages Act (and to contain the fallout of the disagreements it caused) whilst keeping the monarchy itself protected from marriages which would be seemed unsuitable or unacceptable by the Crown, parliament and people alike. At first, he believed the way to affect this was to ask parliament to introduce a new bill which would allow members of the Royal Family to contract morganatic marriages [1]. Morganatic marriage was relatively common among European royalty and though it was still unwelcome, it spared many families the unwelcome attention brought to the British Royal Family’s doorstep in recent years. In most German states, a Prince could marry a beggar if he wished and the marriage would be valid – but there was a price to pay. In most cases, an unequal marriage resulted in the bride taking on an inferior courtesy title (which might be created for her) with special remainder to her children who were considered legitimate but who had no succession rights beyond the title created for their mother. It led to a kind of “Within but without” scenario whereby a Prince might become a Grand Duke without an heir but with children who were nonetheless legitimate. This opened the door to some difficulties in certain royal houses when those affected might try to erase the stain of the morganatische from their family tree – something we have already come across where Alexandrine of Baden’s ancestors were concerned and which ironically affected George V’s descendants in Darmstadt in the early 1890s. [2]
But the Baden example also reveals that morganatic marriages, and the offspring of such unions, were not well received in royal circles. The Duchess of Cambridge could never countenance Alexandrine as a daughter in law because she was the product of a morganatic marriage and in practical terms, Europe had a two-tier system of royalty in operation whereby some Princes and Princesses were more equal in stature than others - and thus, received differently. So though morganatic marriage was a viable option in many European courts, it was still discouraged. Each royal house had its own way of regulating these marriages and instituted house laws, a set of legally binding rubrics established by an ancestor to govern the way the royal house would operate in certain situations. The House of Hanover had no such laws but in most other courts, they served as permanent reminders of royal authority derived from a very different source than parliamentary sovereignty. For example, in Russia, the Romanov dynasty was governed by the Pauline Laws of 1797, a set of imperial regulations that acted as divine commandments imposed by an autocrat upon his own family. But even the smaller German courts had house laws as their “code of conduct”. In Coburg for example, the House Laws forbad the accession of a Roman Catholic which posed a serious threat to that particular family in 1893 when Duke Ernst II of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha died without legitimate issue [3].
The United Kingdom had no need of such laws because unlike the Emperor of Austria or the Tsar of Russia, the King was subject to parliamentary sovereignty as a constitutional monarch. Parliament had settled the succession in 1701 and only approved the Royal Marriages Act because they saw the benefit of it – not because the King demanded it. But recent events had shown that though he had no claim to the same authority as the Russian Tsars or the Austrian Emperors, King George could still make use of certain royal privileges to shape the monarchy as he wished. In removing royal rank from his cousin the Earl of Tipperary, George V had established a new precedent; that those who married in defiance of the Royal Marriages Act of 1772 would lose their style of Royal Highness and Prince of the United Kingdom, etc. But he had confused that precedent by trying to retroactively give his consent to the marriage of his late uncle the Duke of Sussex. When the King met the Attorney General, he was given the following advice: there was absolutely no possibility of parliament ever agreeing to establish the concept of morganatic marriages in England. The aristocracy would never stand for it and besides, it would go against centuries of English law concerning not only marriages but inheritances too. However, Sir Frederick Pollock did see a way forward that could provide the King with the outcome he wanted but which did not infringe too much on the status quo.
Sir Frederick Pollock, 1st Baronet, 1840 by Lawrence.
First and foremost, Pollock’s advice (if followed) would see the wholesale repeal of the Royal Marriages Act of 1772. Instead, it would be replaced with something called the Succession to the Crown Act, so called because the major platform of the reform was to put in place consequences serious enough to deter George V’s family from contracting unsuitable marriages even if a mechanism allowed them to do so and have those marriages recognised in law. The Royal Marriages Act was unpopular but it’s penalties rather lacklustre, designed to penalise the bride rather than the groom. Those who married in contravention of it had their marriages declared invalid but they retained their place in the line of succession, their titles, styles and other royal privileges such as continued annuities. The Succession to the Crown Act would change this, giving with one hand but taking with another. Under this new legislation, only the first twelve individuals in the line of succession would be required to seek the Sovereign’s consent for their marriage. If that consent was declined, the individual in question could still go ahead and marry, a marriage that would be recognised and their children considered to be legitimate – but they would lose their succession rights and whilst their children might inherit peerages, they could not inherit a claim to the British throne. They would also forfeit their royal rank, and a second bill was to be introduced alongside the Succession to the Crown Act to regulate this. The two acts together marked the biggest change to the succession since 1701 and would require the approval of the Cabinet before going to parliament for the approval of the Commons and the Lords.
The Royal House Act would supplement the Succession to the Crown Act in creating a new legal entity and was considered a way to convince parliament that unlike King George III, King George V was not acting autocratically. This act stated that the Royal Family was to be restricted in number to the King’s children and grandchildren in the male line. Everybody else was to be considered a member of the Royal House. This was intended to serve as a kind of royal insurance policy with the legislation determining that the King had the right to extend or withdraw membership at any time via Letters Patent as Head of the Royal House. In effect, this meant two things. In the future, the King’s children and grandchildren in the male line would remain Royal Highnesses and Princes and Princess of the United Kingdom. They would also be members of the Royal House of course but their primary status was as members of the Royal Family. They could hold Crown appointments and be granted annuities accordingly and so long as they toed the line, their status would never change.
But the most important adjustment was for those who might be born into the Royal House (not the Royal Family) in the future. These individuals would be entitled to the style of His/Her Highness Prince/Princess XYZ of Hanover [4]. Despite a lesser rank, they would retain their succession rights and if they fell into the first twelve in the line of succession, they would still be required to seek the Sovereign’s consent before their marriage. For example, the children of Princess Marie Louise. But what of those members who, by their own actions, were “ported” over to the Royal House? To understand how this would work, we may imagine a situation where George Cambridge married after 1844 and in which his chosen bride was not a Roman Catholic.
The Earl of Tipperary would have fallen under the provisions of the new Succession to the Crown Act and we shall suppose that consent was withheld but that George chose to marry anyway. George would have lost his succession rights and have ceased to be His Royal Highness Prince George of Cambridge from the moment he married under the terms of the Succession to the Crown Act. But his marriage would still have been valid and under the terms of the Royal House Act, he would have become His Highness Prince George of Hanover, his wife becoming Her Highness Princess George and his children styled accordingly because they would be legitimate. Also, they could inherit the Dukedom of Cambridge even if they could not inherit the Crown itself and so, whilst the new approach under the Succession to the Crown Act was harsher than that of the Royal Marriages Act, it affected fewer individuals and was far more generous in it's consequences. Of course, none of this could have applied to George Cambridge’s case if he married a Roman Catholic as he did when he took Franziska Fritz for his bride. The Act of Settlement determined that and restrictions on Catholics were to remain. Indeed, Pollock was forced to address this directly, perhaps with George Cambridge's example in mind.
The Attorney General's concern was that parliament may overlook the benefits of the new legislation because it was a distinct possibility that it’s provisions may inadvertently give rise to Catholic cadet branches of the Royal House in the future. Though they could not inherit the throne, this could be taken as a step too far among a population which still held very strong anti-Catholic views despite Catholic emancipation a decade earlier. To resolve this, the Royal House Act was to include a clause which specifically excluded Catholics from becoming members of the Royal House and if an existing member married a Catholic, they would forfeit their membership immediately, no longer afforded the style of Highness or Prince/Princess of Hanover. Naturally they would already have lost their succession rights under the terms of the Act of Settlement which neither the Succession to the Crown Act or the Royal House Act replaced in any way. It remained on the statute books unaffected [5]. The King asked if there was any possibility that this new approach may strengthen the case of George Cambridge specifically if he sought to appeal to the Committee of Priveleges as it was rumoured he stood poised to do. George V worried that his cousin may now seek to claim membership of the Royal House. Pollock reassured the King that whilst Cambridge may indeed appeal [6], the new legislation would not be applied retroactively and as such, the Earl of Tipperary would walk away empty handed.
The King personally made a few additions to the Royal House Act. He wanted to make it clear that members of the Royal House were not to be deprived of their nationality, that they were still eligible to be created peers of the realm and that just as the Sovereign could “demote” a member of the Royal Family to membership of the Royal House, he could also raise a member of the Royal House to membership of the Royal Family – for example, if a grandchild in the female line was to become heir apparent, it therefore being entirely appropriate that he or she be styled Royal Highness etc with all the privileges associated. But he also made one important stipulation which had never before been installed in British law; that members of the Royal House to whom consent did not apply, were free to marry as they wished with one exception; they were to be forbidden from marrying divorcees. In doing so, they would immediately forfeit their membership even though their marriage would be considered legally valid.
A provision was also made that, even in the event of the accession of a female monarch, the Royal House would maintain the name of Hanover. The Succession to the Crown Act and the Royal House Act combined would serve to secure the monarchy’s reputation for decades to come and would become known in history as the King’s Laws, a moniker which originated among opponents to the legislation but which now has even been adopted by the Royal Family itself on their website in the telling of this episode in the monarchy’s history. George V was determined that his solution was logical, “dignified” and “wholly appropriate to prevent further disruptions which may continue to arise from the Royal Marriages Act of 1772”. He was confident it would be adopted and passed and in his journal prior to his audience with the Prime Minister, he wrote “Pollock’s advice v. sound. All things considered well and the case made for their inclusion most strongly”.
When the King presented these reforms to the Prime Minister, Graham was quietly impressed at just how thoroughly George had prepared his proposals. He had sought advice from the Attorney General, from the Prime Minister and would (pending Graham’s consent and departure) seek the advice of the Church of England too. But Graham wanted a very important reassurance before taking the proposed measures to Cabinet for their approval. Whilst George V had shown a far more magnanimous attitude to the Civil List than his predecessors, a recent bill to provide Prince George of Cumberland with an annuity upon his marriage was not well received in the Commons, even though it passed. The Prime Minister believed he could use the new legislation proposed to ringfence royal spending in the future to some extent, arguing that the Royal House Act should make clear that no dowries or annuities would be considered in parliament for members of the Royal House and that, if a member of the Royal Family married without consent and was granted membership of the Royal House they should be required to forfeit any financial assistance from parliament that would see a rise in the Civil List. In practise, this meant that if a member of the Royal Family married without consent, he may well become a member of the Royal House but he could never be granted an annuity by parliament and his only recourse to a payment from the Civil List would depend on the generosity of the Sovereign from existing funds. The King was wary but agreed when Graham suggested this alone would be enough to convince any opponents to other clauses in the two bills. Graham promised to introduce the reforms to Cabinet and “test the waters”.
But there was a catch. Graham looked down at Pollock’s handiwork and sipped at his port, mulling over his next move.
“Of course Your Majesty, even if the Cabinet approves of these measures and the government sponsors this legislation, I can give no guarantee that my colleagues in the House of Commons will vote in favour”
“I quite understand Prime Minister”, the King replied, “But nonetheless, I believe we have presented an approach which is eminently fair and practicable”
Graham gave a wry smile.
“Parliamentarians do not always favour things because they are fair or practicable Sir”, he said, “And I feel it my duty to warn Your Majesty that when parliament has considered such legislation before, the Royal Marriages Act for example, some members chose to vote the legislation down because they believed it was not correct, in principle, to pass a bill simply because the King wished it. Your late grandfather was himself accused of intimidating members into adopting the very legislation you now wish to repeal”
“Oh but that is intolerable – and most unfair”, George sighed frustratedly, “I should never intimidate and I recognise that parliament has the right to deny this legislation’s passage. I should like you to make that clear to your colleagues if this is to be considered on the floor of the House”
“And I shall do so Sir, I assure you…”, Graham enthused, “But if Your Majesty wishes me to introduce this legislation, I could not do so until the State Opening next year and if I may be so bold, it might serve our purpose far better if Your Majesty were…to remove yourself for a time…many of my colleagues come to the Palace on a regular basis, members of the other place too, I should like to ensure we leave no door open to those who may suggest pressure was being exerted”
“I would never do that!”, George barked, “Good God man, I’m no tyrant”
“Oh perish the thought Sir”, Graham replied hurriedly, “But you do see my meaning? We must chart the course carefully if we are to have success”
“Fine”, George grumbled, “Introduce it when I go to Hanover next year”
“Alas Sir”, the Prime Minister sighed, “Parliament shall be in recess then. But if Your Majesty were to take my proposals for a tour of Scotland next April…it would coincide with the anniversary of the visit of Your Majesty’s late father…a perfectly reasonable pretext…”
The King fixed Graham with a glare. He knew exactly what the Prime Minister was trying to do, though of course he didn’t yet grasp the true reason Graham wanted him to go to Scotland in the first place.
“Oh very well. Give Phipps the papers on the blessed tour”, the King said, a hint of steel in his voice, “We shall consider them”.
Graham stood up and bowed.
“Very good Your Majesty”, he said, “And meanwhile, I shall put these proposals to the Cabinet and report back at the earliest opportunity”
The King said nothing of all this to his family as they assembled for the Earl of Armagh’s wedding on the 3rd of November 1843. He decided that he would hold a small family summit before the act was introduced in 1844 instead. However, as monumental as his decision was, his attentions were quickly diverted with the arrival of the Anhalt-Dessaus to London. Though he had not set out to welcome the Duke of Cumberland personally when he arrived at St Katharine Dock, George V did so for the Anhalt-Dessaus when their ship arrived, even providing a phaeton in his own livery to convey them to Marlborough House. The same courtesy was extended to the Hesse-Kassels but not the Solms-Braunfels or the Prussians who were offered carriages decked out in the most junior royal livery and who had to make do with the Deputy Earl Marshal to greet them.
The Chapel Royal, Buckingham Palace, 1843.
The allocation of accommodation told its own story too. Whereas the other guests were squeezed into the relatively uncomfortable suites of St James’, the Anhalt-Dessaus were given two suites at Marlborough House; the Duke and Duchess (and their son the Hereditary Duke) took the apartment once used by the Dowager Queen Louise whilst the Anhalt daughters, Princess Agnes and Princess Maria Anna, were given an apartment all their own with two ladies maids provided for their comfort. In this apartment, the King had personally selected the floral arrangements, hand chosen the pages of the backstairs who would care for the girls and even put a landau at their disposal should they wish to travel independently – which did not please the Duchess of Anhalt-Dessau who was used to keeping her daughters under her careful watch at all times.
This special treatment did not go unnoticed, neither could anybody fail to spot that at the welcome luncheon given at Buckingham Palace the day before the wedding, Princess Agnes was seated far closer to the King in between Prince George of Cumberland and the Duke of Cambridge than precedence might otherwise allow. The Duke of Cumberland meanwhile was pushed as far down the table as possible, tucked in between the Bishop of London’s wife and Princess Marie Louise of Anhalt-Dessau, a princess of Hesse-Kassel by birth (and a first cousin to King George V) who had married Prince Frederick Augustus of Anhalt-Dessau in 1832, he being the brother of Duke Leopold IV, Princess Agnes’ father.
But among these Anhalt-Dessaus were also a whole host of Mecklenburg-Strelitzes, Hesse-Kassels, Schleswig-Holstein-Sonderburg-Glücksburgs and Hohenzollerns. It was one of the biggest assemblies of European royalty for quite some time and reports shared with the general public spoke of the grandeur of the occasion where “every guest can claim a castle or a crown of his own whilst ladies vied with each other to display their finest jewels”. A footnote mentioned that the Duke of Cumberland (“mercifully now a stranger to these shores”) was present but that immediately after the wedding ceremony itself, he left and did not attend the wedding breakfast given in honour of the Earl (and new Countess) of Armagh.
This was rumoured to be because the Duke was horrified to see that as his son made his way to the altar that morning, he had been granted the Order of the Garter which he proudly displayed on his Windsor uniform. This was not in any way unusual of course, Cumberland himself had the Garter (as did all of his brothers) but it seemed to have irritated the old Duke, presumably because it was a further sign that his son enjoyed the favour of the monarch and Cumberland did not. To make matters worse, not only had the Earl of Armagh been given an annuity by parliament of £5,000, but it was also gazetted on the morning of his wedding that he had been appointed Royal Colonel of the 13th Regiment of Foot which was renamed The Earl of Armagh’s Light Infantry in his honour. As if this wasn’t enough, in addition to serving His Majesty as the Ranger of Bushy Park and the Lieutenant of Hampton Court Chase, the King had appointed the Earl of Armagh to take over as the new Ranger of St James’ and Hyde Park. This increased the Earl of Armagh’s income to £18,000 a year – the same figure Cumberland had once enjoyed and which had been increasingly cut over the years. [7]
Citing tiredness in his old age, Cumberland returned to St James’ Palace where he gave a small supper for an old friend, the former Solicitor General, Sir Charles Wetherell. Wetherell was one of Cumberland’s staunchest supporters, a passionate opponent of Catholic emancipation who had seen his parliamentary career tumble when he took against the Duke of Wellington on the issue. Wetherell was now old and bitter, furious that he had not been elevated to the Lords by Sir James Graham – he had even selected his title, Earl of Boroughbridge – when the Prime Minister introduced an army of new Tory peers to the upper house. Wetherell had been asked to St James’ Palace by the Duke of Cumberland for far more than a helping of pilchards on toast, a bowl of potage and a slice of madeira cake. Cumberland was on manoeuvres once more.
Notes
[1] Something considered by almost every British monarch by George I in fact but which has never been allowed to get a foothold. The most obvious example was the proposal that Edward VIII be able to marry Wallis Simpson morganatically. This was rejected because it was felt that morganatic marriage could not be introduced for one individual alone, even if that individual was the King, and that it could have disastrous consequences in a world where peers had the hereditary right to sit in the legislature. It was also considered (by the 1930s anyway) to be a continental custom which could not easily be imposed on the UK without tearing up centuries of existing legislation, something no government was mad enough to embark upon.
[2] Missy’s children…
[3] In the OTL, Coburg was inherited by the Duke of Edinburgh as the second son of the late Prince Albert, brother of Duke Ernst II. But in TTL, Albert’s children cannot succeed to Coburg because under the terms of his marriage both he and they must be in communion with Rome. He was also required to relinquish claims to Coburg for himself and his children, regardless of Coburg's House Laws. So what happens to the Duchy in 1893? We shall see.
[4] Which they all were anyway but this makes primary was previously secondary. The use of Highness was also not new to the Royal Family. This was granted to princes and princesses who were great-grandchildren of the sovereign in the male line with the exception of the children of the eldest son of the Prince of Wales. Had George V and Elizabeth II not made changes to this approach, the Cambridge children would have been styled as His/Her Highness until their grandfather acceded to the throne.
[5] Heavy stress on the AoS remaining in place!
[6] He wouldn’t have got anywhere if he did. Parliament has no authority over styles which can only be granted or revoked by the Sovereign as hons honorum. Once again, Prince is not a title but a style – only a peerage is truly a title.
[7] The Ranger post here would particularly sting for Cumberland as he fully expected to be given the post in the OTL by William IV and was overlooked for it with the Duke of Sussex appointed instead. In TTL, the likely trajectory would have been that the Duke of Clarence as Regent would have made the same decision and with Sussex’s death just before Armagh’s wedding, it makes him a natural for the post. But Cumberland still holds his post as Ranger of Windsor Great Park…for now. As stated in the chapter, these posts were highly valued because they came with an annuity for the duration – usually set at £5,000 a year.
So, why this change to the Royal Family/House?
This was never intended to be a wander through the OTL with new faces. The purpose of TTL is to showcase an alternative to the British monarchy under Queen Victoria (and beyond). I believe this is the first of many big changes which sets the course of the monarchy in TTL on a very different path to that of the monarchy in the OTL. Possibly for the better…possibly for the worst. I had always intended to introduce this theme in TTL (a theme actually considered by the OTL King Edward VII which sparked the concept) but I had to wait until now to lay enough groundwork to make it plausible. I needed the King to have a strong motive (George Cambridge/the Duke of Sussex) but I also needed him to be in a position where the succession was more secure than when he first came to the throne. He has three children after all. Now a counter argument would be, what if all three marry in contravention to this new act? They’d all lose their succession rights? Well, I’d consider that to be an unlikely outcome anyway but I would argue that by taking this action, George is actively thinking about what he might do if his own children followed Cambridge’s example and installing a deterrent to ensure they do not. That said, what if an Edward VIII hoves into view? Could he manipulate this to get his way?
Equally, there are more subtle changes here which could inspire dramatic events in the future. Note that George V has forbidden a successor to change the name of the Royal House – though an amendment to the act would make it possible. If we go down the same OTL route, how does this affect things in 1917? Equally, more intimate relations to the Sovereign, even his own grandchildren, could be deprived of their titles were the situation in TTL the same as that in the OTL. What of a Princess Margaret type figure? Is her life made easier or more difficult with this system? Does the future bring changes to the legislation on the position of Catholics or divorcees? How would a future Charles III be affected? Has George V taken an action that spares the British Crown years of scandal or has he unwittingly opened the door to more complex clashes long after his time? We shall see…
One final point – an important one – is how these reforms (if indeed they are passed) would be taken in Hanover. At this stage in TTL, George V has done much to repair the broken relationship between the British Sovereign and his people in Hanover. Yet Hanover may well be looking at a situation whereby they lose their permanent royal representative at Herrenhausen for the first time in decades…and there is no obvious successor given that George V may very well want the Armaghs to stay in England to carry out royal duties. Will that weaken the bond? Equally, what if Graham gets his way and manages to curtail the King’s annual visits to Hanover? And on these reforms specifically, how will the people of Hanover take it when they see that (even though the styles relate to the Royal House and not the Kingdom itself), their homeland seems to be nothing more than a dumping ground for the spares and the sinners?
This isn’t an approach I’ve invented. It’s one many monarchies have taken over the years for different reasons and with different outcomes. But I think it’s one that’s fascinating to explore in a UK context. I hope I’ve done enough to make this change feel plausible and that the groundwork makes it a logical conclusion. But also, that it shows just what sort of King our George V is shaping up to be. He’s maturing into his role and thinking about the future. And naturally, this may also lead him to conclude that his future may be a happier one with someone else in it…
And for those who wanted a Prince Albert update, stay tuned, it's on it's way in just a short while!
I just read the end of her, and I am sorry to say but It seems like her son has gotten her capacity of cruelty. Putting her in what was solitary confinement for a number of years borders what she did with the Duchess of Kent. I understand his feelings,