Today, we're going to pause from our usual Friday "Punch and Judy" theme to remember the anniversary of a very special day...
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The Wedding of the Duke and Duchess of York, 1893
Crown Copyright
The Royal Collection
Images Courtesy of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II |
On July 6, 1893, Princess Victoria Mary of Teck married George, the Duke of York (later King George V) at the Chapel Royal at St. James Palace. The morning of the wedding, the Duke of York spied Princess May, as she was called by her family, across a long corridor in Buckingham Palace as she was preparing for the wedding. In what could have been an awkward moment—a heralding of bad luck—the Prince smiled, and offered, “a low and courtly bow,” to his future wife. The future Queen Mary never forgot this gesture, noting later that it was at this moment that she knew that she had made the right decision in accepting is proposal of marriage. She would don her elaborate wedding gown of silver brocade, trimmed in white, and jewels and, offering her famous side-ways smile to the gathered crowds of well-wishers, joined her groom as the consort of the new heir presumptive to the throne.
This, however, was not the wedding that was originally meant to be. Princess May was previously engaged to George’s elder brother, Prince Albert Victor, Duke of Clarence and Avondale. The Prince, known as “Eddy” to his family, was quite the opposite to his more staid brother. Eddy was listless and not terribly ambitious, but possessed of a remarkably winning charm. Queen Victoria, fearful that the apathetic heir presumptive would make a mess of his life, was adamant that he should make a smart marriage (and not a morganatic one to a woman beneath his position) and studied the possible candidates for his bride. Of the Prince’s cousins, the only clear choice was Princess Victoria Mary, the daughter of Princess Mary Adelaide (on the Cambridge side of the Royal Family) and the slightly off-kilter Duke of Teck.
Victoria worried that her grandson—who was given to enormous waves of passion for a variety of London ladies—would not be keen on marrying his reserved and dignified cousin May, and was happily surprised when, upon the suggestion, he immediately fell in love with May. May accepted his proposal, and joined the Cambridge clan in London (accompanied by her stout mother and muttering father), enjoying the many celebrations in honor of the couple. Though it was not a love-match on Mary’s side, she had a fondness for her cousin and thought him very “dear.” May was no fool and realized that the marriage put her in the position of being the future Queen Consort, and rather liked the idea—devoted as she was to her country and people.
During the nationwide celebration, the Duke of Clarence and Avondale and May made many journeys in inclement weather. They didn’t worry much about the widespread outbreak of influenza that had gripped England. After all, it was Prince George who was the sickly one. Albert Victor was hale and hearty. Still, “Eddy” contracted a slight head cold that quickly became a massive infection. Over a period of six days, he declined rapidly as fever and illness possessed his body.
The Prince of Wales (later King Edward VII), the Princess of Wales (later Queen Alexandra, the much-beloved and beautiful woman who captivated the hearts of the nation) gathered with Princess May (and her parents) at the bedside of the ailing heir presumptive. Young Prince George knelt at the side of his brothers bed and wept. Princess Alexandra, ever brave, turned to the attending doctor and asked in a clear voice (here, I should note that Alexandra was stone deaf and her lovely voice was a testament to her strength), “Can nothing be done for him?” The physician sadly shook his head.
With a few rattling breaths, Prince Albert Victor, Duke of Clarence and Avondale—dear “Eddy”—rattled out his last few breaths and died.
All of England was distraught at this tragedy, and turned their sympathies to his intended as Princess May—in a daze—mourned not only the passing of her future husband, but, seemingly, her chances of becoming Queen.
An informal song was soon on the lips of people throughout London.
Alas his soul, it has departed
How solemn came the news,
His parents broken-hearted,
Their darling son to lose.
With sympathy and feeling,
We one and all should say,
God rest his soul in silence,
And bless the Princess May.
With love and true devotion,
They watched by his bed side,
But all was gloom and sadness,
The moment that he died,
He closed his eyes forever,
They kissed his pallid cheek,
In breathless tones his mother said,
“O speak, my darling speak.”
A nation wrapped in mourning,
Shed bitter tears today,
For the noble Duke of Clarence
And fair young Princess May.
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Prince Albert Victor, Duke of Clarence and Avondale
with the Family of the Duke and Duchess of Teck
upon the engagement of their daughter.
Standing, left to right: Prince Adolfus of Teck;
the Duchess of Teck (Princess Mary Adelaide);
Prince Francis of Teck.
Seated, left to right: Albert Victor Duke of Clarence and Avondale;
Princess Victoria Mary of Teck; the Duke of Teck.
December, 1891
The Royal Collection |
Immediately upon the death of Prince “Eddy,” Mary’s father, the Duke of Teck—who following his stroke several years earlier was often given over to fits of madness—began pacing the halls of the palace saying one single sentence over and over. “It must be a Tsarevitch. It must be a Tsarevitch. It must be a Tsarevitch.” Now, what could the Duke of Teck have meant by that odd phrase? Above all else, His Grace was concerned with one thing—status. Even before his stroke, the Duke of Teck was always preoccupied with his position and the rank of his family. His wife, Princess Mary Adelaide—a granddaughter of King George III (and though never in line for the throne since she was the daughter of one of George III’s daughters and cousin to the Queen, was not only a Princess, but also the Duchess of Cambridge. When they married, he was always reminded that their marriage was morganatic (meaning that a woman of higher birth had married beneath her). Because of what he perceived as a massive slight, the Duke always wished that his children would make suitable marriages that would elevate them to the status he felt they deserved. And, so, upon Eddy’s death, the Duke of Teck was more concerned that “May” was missing her chance to become the future Queen.
The Duke of Teck’s mad rambling following the Prince’s death referred to his in-law’s the Cambridges. The Princess of Wales (previously a Princess of Denmark) had a sister, Princess Dagmar of Denmark, who, like May, had been engaged to the heir presumptive who, also, had died before their marriage, preventing her from becoming the Empress of Russia. However, the Russian Royal Family had quickly engaged the grieving Dagmar to the deceased Tsarevitch’s brother, Alexander—the new heir presumptive, and they joined in what would be a very successful union as Emperor and Empress of Russia.
In his own weird way, the Duke was suggesting such an arrangement for Mary. With the passing of Prince Albert Victor, Prince George was the new heir presumptive to the British throne. He was unmarried and needed a strong woman to guide him. Why not engage Mary to George?
Mary would not hear of it.
At the funeral for Prince Albert Victor, many noted that the most touching moment was when Princess May handed her marriage wreath of orange blossoms to her father who in turn presented it to the Prince of Wales (later Edward VII) who, with Princess Alexandra, placed it upon the casket.
Mary’s long and painful period of mourning began. To distract the girl, her parents--especially her mother, Princess Mary Adelaide--forced her to travel and regain her strength. Meanwhile, Queen Victoria had had the same thought as the Duke of Teck—though in a much less embarrassing and public way. Victoria orchestrated a journey for Prince George which would casually force him to be in the same places at the same times as Princess May.
The Princess was still bereft. On what was to have been her wedding day, despite the attempts of her family to distract her, she wrote in her diary:
27 February
Chilly, damp day. This day is a very sad one for me for it was to have been our wedding day. ‘Es wär zu schön gewesen, es hat nicht sollen sein…'
Fifty-five years later, under this entry, Queen Mary wrote again in the same journal:
I read this diary again in 1947, when I was 80, and felt compelled to add that the kind ‘Uncle Wales’ [The Prince of Wales, later King Edward VII] & ‘Motherdear’ [her affectionate nickname for the Princess of Wales, alter Queen Alexandra] gave me a beautiful rivière of diamonds which they had destined for me as a wedding present, as well as a lovely dressing bag, which darling Eddy had ordered for me as a wedding gift. I remember I felt overcome by this kind thought.
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| The future Queen Mary in her Wedding Gown |
Still, George was ever-present. The two—who had known one another all of their lives as cousins—developed a close friendship, bonding over their shared grief. George mourned the loss of his beloved elder brother deeply—calling him, “my dear, lovely boy.” Soon, Mary began to develop feelings for George that she had not felt for Albert Victor. While she was fond of “Eddy” and enjoyed his company, she admitted that she didn’t feel romantic love for him. This, she felt for George. And, though she resisted at first, she did accept his proposal of marriage in 1892—much to the relief of the Queen and much to the joy of the British people.
Their marriage was a success and the two remained devoted to one another—enduring much hardship, war and chaos as King and Queen of England.
So, here’s wishing King George V and Queen Mary a belated and posthumous happy 119th anniversary.
