Victoria’s Grandchildren, Part 1: Kaiser Wilhelm II

Queen Victoria’s most famous (or perhaps infamous) grandchild was probably her first one, son of eldest daughter Vicky and her husband Fritz (Friedrich Wilhelm of Prussia). I am speaking, of course, of Kaiser Wilhelm II of Germany, who led his country into the maelstrom of World War I, and lost his throne as a result.

Friedrich Wilhelm Viktor Albert was born on January 27, 1859, in Berlin. It was a long and difficult labor for his 18-year-old mother; a clumsy delivery injured the baby’s left arm, which would be weak and withered his entire life. Some historians conjecture that his difficult birth (he was not breathing and had to be rubbed and slapped into drawing breath) and physical imperfection had a profound effect on the boy; from an early age it was noted that he was clever but hyperactive, aggressive and emotionally unstable.

Willy’s parents loved him dearly (that's him with his father on a visit to Balmoral in 1863), but few of the decisions around the boy’s upbringing were left to Vicky and Fritz. As third in line to the throne of Prussia (and eventually, to the imperial throne of Germany), Willy’s care and education were dictated by his grandfather, the arch-conservative Wilhelm, and indirectly by his Grandfather’s chancellor, Otto von Bismarck, who did not want the child influenced by Fritz’s and especially Vicky’s well-known liberalism. Nor was Vicky necessarily the best parent of a difficult child: herself the child of hypercritical parents, Vicky in turn was a hypercritical mother. Trapped between her and the sycophantic courtiers who surrounded him, there is little wonder that Willy had a deeply confused relationship with her that lasted until her death. He respected his father’s sterling record as a soldier, but it was his reactionary grandfather he idolized, and his grandfather’s reactionary view of the world he adopted…though all his life he was fascinated by his English grandmother, Queen Victoria, and by England’s global domination (which he felt should have belonged to Germany).

The Prussian royal family was a strongly military one, and Willy was no exception. Though he spent a few years dabbling at Bonn University (where most of his time was spent at the Borussa, the university’s most exclusive drinking and dueling club), Willy’s main love was the army, in which he was enrolled at age 18; it seems, however, that he was more concerned with the niceties of uniforms and decorations than of actual military science. An Englishwoman who had married into a prominent German family described him as “a high spirited, sensitive boy who had a ready brain and a quick but not profound intelligence…He always thought he knew everything and no one dared to tell him he was sometimes wrong. He hated to be told the truth and seldom, perhaps, never, forgave those who insisted on telling him.”

At the age of 22 he married a distant cousin, Augusta Viktoria of Schleswig-Holstein-Sondersburg-Glucksburg, a rather lackluster young woman who worshipped Willy and obeyed him unquestioningly. They had seven children together—six sons and a daughter.

In 1888, his grandfather Wilhelm I died, to be followed only 99 days later by his father Fritz, who died of throat cancer...and at age 29, Willy became Emperor Wilhelm II. Though he had long been a disciple of his grandfather’s chancellor, Bismarck, a few short years later he dismissed Bismarck to rule on his own, with weak chancellors to serve as yesmen.

Willy’s obsession with England continued; he longed to have a navy and colonial possessions to rival England’s and spent the next decades trying to building both up, to England’s dismay. He also became increasingly paranoid, sure that England, in the form of his uncle, Edward VII, was out to grind him and Germany into the dust. It was this paranoia, combined with the militarism of the Prussian ruling class, that would lead down the road to the first world war.

This is, necessarily, a very brief overview of a complex person and complicated times. For a deeper and fascinating (and very readable!) look at Willy’s life and how it led to the war, I highly recommend Miranda Carter’s George, Nicholas, and Wilhelm: Three Royal Cousins and the Road to World War I. Happy reading!

Royal Weddings, Part 3: Princess Victoria and Prince Friedrich of Prussia

Our next royal wedding is that of Princess Victoria the Princess Royal, eldest daughter of Queen Victoria, and Prince Friedrich Wilhelm of Prussia, the future Emperor and Empress of Germany…and known within their families as Vicky and Fritz. As we have seen, the match between these two was truly a love match, and they remained devoted all their lives. In fact, they became semi-secretly engaged—family were informed, but it wasn’t widely announced—when Vicky was not quite 15. As Fritz was nine years her senior, she must have been quite a young lady to enchant a more-or-less grown man, and a very eligible one to boot.

Since her parents decreed that she should not marry before she was seventeen, Queen Victoria had plenty of time to gather Vicky’s trousseau…which she did with a vengeance. In the end, 100 hundred packing cases of everything from clothing (dozens of dresses and fabric for dozens more) to housewares (from carpets to wallpaper to furniture) to dainties from Fortnum and Mason and saddles. Parliament granted her a dowry of £40,000, which would generate her an income of £8,000 per year. Although the Prussians wanted their future king to be married in Prussia, the Queen would not hear of it, and the wedding was set for January 25, 1858, in London.

According to her former governess, Vicky was wonderfully calm and composed all through the fuss of dressing and preparing. Her dress was of white silk moire over a flounced lace petticoat, decorated with sprays of orange blossom and myrtle. Her veil was held on with a matching wreath, and she wore diamonds. The Queen wore lilac, while the mother of the groom, Princess Augusta, wore white with a blue velvet train, and Fritz himself wore the dark blue tunic and white trousers of the Prussian Guards.

Unlike her mother’s wedding day, the weather was clear and sunny for Vicky, and the roads between Buckingham Palace and St. James’s Chapel were thronged with onlookers. The wedding itself seems to have run smoothly: Vicky’s train was long enough that her eight bridesmaids didn’t have to worry about tripping over each other, and while according to the Queen the Archbishop of Canterbury was “very nervous”, the bride and groom themselves were poised and spoke “very plainly”. And when the vows were said, the young couple set a tradition, walking out of the chapel to the strains of Mendelssohn’s Wedding March. They also set a precedent by stepping out onto the balcony at Buckingham Palace to wave to the cheering Londoners.

If Victoria and Albert’s cake was enormous, their daughter’s was no smaller: it stood over six feet tall, and quite hid them from view at the wedding breakfast! Also like her mother, Vicky’s honeymoon at Windsor was a short two days, after which her parents and dozens of other wedding guests arrived. And by February 1, Vicky was sailing away with her new husband for her new life as a Prussian Crown Princess—a life which would often be difficult for the warm-hearted young girl.

Fashion Forecast: 1817

What was the well-dressed young lady wearing in 1817?

Well, in January she was certainly keeping cozy with a simply enormous ermine muff worn with a pretty blue Carriage Dress (in Ackermann's Repository). The deep flounce of lace about the hem is interesting in light of the fact that the following month would see the last major Luddite attack against the new manufactories--this one against lace-making machines in Loughborough: Isn't this dress just charming? Alas, this February print from La Belle Assemblee is missing its caption, but I'm guessing that this is an evening or dinner dress. Note the sheer sleeves--a style that will phase in and out of fashion for the next ten years. Notice too that waists are very high this year--just under the bust, in fact:1817 saw the introduction of gas lighting at Covent Garden theatre; perhaps our well-dressed young woman wore this Opera Dress (March, Ackermann's Repository) there. I have the original description for this one: A blue crape dress over a white satin slip; the dress trimmed round the skirt with a deep blond lace, which is headed with a light and novel trimming, composed of white floss silk and small pearl beads: this trimming is surmounted with a beautiful deep embroidery of lilies surrounded by leaves. The body and sleeves of this dress, as our readers will perceive by our print, are extremely novel. Head-dress, toque a la Berri; it is a crown of a novel form, tastefully ornamented round the top with lilies to correspond with the trimming of the skirt, and a plume of white feathers, which droop over the face. Earrings, necklace, and bracelets, sapphire mixed with pearl. The hair is dressed in loose light ringlets on the forehead, and disposed in full curls in the back of the neck. White kid gloves, and white satin slippers:I had to include this Evening Dress from the May edition of Ackermann's Repository just because it is so dainty and sweet. Note the sheer overskirt ornamented with a rose garland over the pink underdress, and the matching rose head-dress. So pretty!Now, how's this for dashing? This is The Glengary Habit from the September Ackermann's, and it's a stunner--note the military-looking epaulettes on the shoulders and frogging over the bust, and that checkerboard-effect on the hat (I'm guessing it's woven ribbon). The skirts of riding habits were very long, so that women's legs would be adequately covered when up on a sidesaddle. Tally ho!1817 also saw the establishment of the famous (or infamous) Elgin Marbles in their permanent home in the British Museum. Maybe our young lady wore this Promenade Dress to view them...and let's hope no one got stuck behind her, because that's a very large bonnet! (Ackermann's Repository, October):It wouldn't be a Fashion Forecast without a Ball Dress, right? Here's one from the November Ackermann's Repository with a beautiful scalloped lace hem, unusual chevron-striped sleeves, the very high waist that was much in evidence this year, and a rather peculiar head-dress: 1817 ended on a somber note, and indeed two tragedies struck England this year: July saw the death at age 41 of our beloved Jane Austen, and November the death in childbirth of Princess Charlotte and her son. Charlotte was the only legitimate grandchild of King George III, and her death led directly to the great marital race among his sons that resulted in the birth of Princess (later Queen) Victoria. Social life did not end, but court mourning was ordered, and women of fashion followed as can be seen by this Evening Dress from December's Ackermann's Repository. It's sober, but I think it very handsome:What do you think of 1817's fashions?

Victoria’s Children, Part 1 (sort of): Princess Victoria, the Princess Royal

Some time ago it was suggested that readers might find more information about Queen Victoria’s family of interest, so today I’m launching an occasional series on Her Majesty’s nine children…or at least eight of them. As you may recall, we already considered her eldest son Bertie (later King Edward VII) in a previous post on 19th century bad boys…it seemed like a good time to have look at his somewhat less naughty siblings, so here we go!

Poor Queen Victoria. Imagine her shock at discovering, within weeks of her wedding at age 21 to Prince Albert, that she was going to be a mother! Indeed, she was quite indignant at the prospect, not wanting to have to divert any attention away from her beloved husband. Not that she was going to be busy burping and bathing babies: upper class women of the 19th century did almost no direct child care of that type. But still…

She was further disappointed, on November 21, 1840, to find that her first-born was not the hoped-for prince, but a princess. During her pregnancy she wrote to her uncle, King Leopold, that "…if all one’s plagues are rewarded only by a nasty girl, I shall drown it, I think." But once Victoria Adelaide Mary Louisa was actually born, the Queen quickly changed her attitude…and Prince Albert was delighted though he too had hoped for a boy.

The Princess, also known as ‘Pussette’ and ‘Vicky’, was a bright, willful little girl who excelled at the grinding course of study set by her ambitious parents (she was probably the most intellectual of the Queen’s nine children) and as a result became Albert’s favorite child. Her upbringing in the royal palaces of Windsor, Osborne, and Balmoral was idyllic and sheltered to an almost ridiculous degree, the result of her parents’ determination to be moral role models to the country. But sheltered or not, it was still her duty one day to marry for Britain’s benefit, and it was for this reason that she was subtly cued to take an interest in young Prince Friedrich (‘Fritz’) of Prussia…which she did so successfully that she was privately engaged to him at the tender age of 14. It would prove to be a singularly happy marriage…unfortunately, one of the few happy things in Vicky’s later life.

She and her Fritz were married shortly after her 17th birthday, and went to Berlin to live…where Vicky found herself hated and gossiped about by the Prussian Royal Family and populace alike, who distrusted Britain and were sure she was hopelessly devoted to her birth country...mistakenly, as it turned out. Though she worked tirelessly for her new country on charities and in war relief and hospital work, little news of this ever was allowed to become public knowledge.

Vicky and Fritz had eight children, the eldest of whom, Willy, would become best known to the world as Kaiser Wilhelm II, who pushed Europe into the horrors of World War I. She had a rocky relationship with him and her older children, but her younger daughters were devoted to her.

Queen Victoria and her daughter were drawn together by Prince Albert’s untimely death in 1861 and by Fritz’s equally untimely one in 1888 after less than a year on the German throne, and maintained a voluminous correspondence over the next forty years until the Queen’s death in January 1901. Vicky herself was already mortally ill with cancer, and followed her "dearest and best of mamas" to the grave only seven months later.