The Widow of Windsor Read online

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  ‘And indulging in adventures meanwhile.’

  ‘Frederick calls himself the cosmopolitan bohemian.’

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

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

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

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

  ‘Frederick will come to the throne.’

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

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

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

  ‘Is that quite out of the question?’

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

  ‘Do you think Frederick should marry again?’

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

  ‘Louise! How could Louise come into this?’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  Louise, who had been waiting for him, saw him arrive and hurried into the bedroom where he was changing his uniform.<
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  ‘Christian,’ she said, ‘I must speak to you.’

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

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

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

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

  ‘Good God!’

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

  ‘Me! King of Denmark!’

  ‘That’s what it would appear.’

  ‘Impossible!’

  ‘No, Christian, quite possible.’

  ‘A penniless, obscure member of the family!’

  ‘You would be neither if you were King.’

  ‘I couldn’t do it.’

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

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

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

  ‘He’s the King’s son. I’m not.’

  ‘There would be wonderful opportunities for the children.’

  The children.’ Christian looked at his watch.

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

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

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

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

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

  He looked again at his watch.

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

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

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

  ‘Where is your sister?’ he asked.

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

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

  ‘Yes, Papa.’

  ‘Why should you be one minute late?’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  ‘I wish I could do that!’ he cried.

  Christian stood on ceremony; the children were very still.

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

  But Christian signed to them to bow and curtsey.

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

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

  Louise came hurrying in.

  ‘Your Majesty …’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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