Chapter 2 Desperate Times

DESPERATE MEASURES

 

In the middle and towards the end of the 19th century, the steamship was hailed as ‘the greatest invention of the industrial age’. For the first time in history, man could travel on the high seas without the assistance of winds and currents. It may have been hailed as the greatest invention of this or any other age but as far as Princess Victoria of Hesse and Rhine was concerned it was nothing but cramped and claustrophobic. They may have promoted first-class travel as being equivalent to a five-star hotel room, but Victoria never felt confined in a hotel room or in desperate need for air.

 

Once she and her staff boarded, fully unpacked, (although, lets be honest , the closet space was woefully insufficient, which meant the majority of her clothes remained hanging in her trunk), Alice, asleep in her state room, Victoria dismissed her staff and made her way alone through the narrow winding corridors up to the deck of the ship.

 

Even though it was early September, Victoria needed her lace up boots, leather gloves and fur stowl around her shoulders to protect her against the biting wind. She walked to the edge of the deck, grabbed the rail and looked down at the dark murky waters below. The white horses of foam fanned out beneath the boat and disappeared in the waters behind her.

 

She had left Darmdtadt in Germany at the beginning of August. The weather with its blue sky and fluffy white clouds was almost perfect, and headed towards London in a temperamental dust determined to prove her mother-in-law completely incorrect in her assessment of her granddaughter. All she could think at the time was that together with her grandmother, Queen Victoria, they would put this matter to rights, laugh unashamedly at the misconception and she would be back at home with a correct diagnosis in a fortnight.

 

London was a miserable disappointment. Not only was the weather overcast, cloudy and somewhat dreary. But it failed to hold any answers she was seeking. Queen Victoria produced every expert, specialist and Doctor who had any connection to the ear nose and throat. Every day they came in with their little black leather bags, and produced various obscure metal instruments, to test for pitch and auditory performance, without any success.

 

In the beginning, Victoria tried to make it a game for Alice, she seemed quite fascinated with the oddly shaped silver instruments that were produced out of the little black bag. Almost as if the doctor was a magician and soon a white rabbit would appear. But after several weeks of realizing nothing fascinating was about to happen, no white rabbits, no multi coloured hankerchiefs, Alice began to get frustrated with being prodded and poked by these strange, intense, humourless men, her patience faded, as she did not understand what was happening and her kind and gentle temperament became distressed and angry.

 

Four weeks had passed, and nothing conclusive has been produced by any of these doctors. Victoria had to wave a white flag, much as it distressed her to do so. It stuck in her throat to have to admit that that country bumpkin of a doctor in Germany was correct and none of these specialists in London could disprove it.

 

Alice had a thickness in the tubes leading to the ear, she was congenitally deaf, there was no cure. It may improve slightly as she aged, but it was a disability that she would have to live with for the rest of her life. The beautiful diamond in the royal Crown had a deep flaw. No longer perfect, her life could still follow the path that her mother wished, but everything now would be that much more difficult, she would have to learn to be a fighter. Being born into a life of privilege and luxury was no longer a prerequisite for happiness and success. Alice would have to forge her own path, her mother would insist on it.

 

The elegant Victorian lady stood on the end of the boat, gripping the rail with her calf skin gloves and stared into the water. The only part of her face that was exposed, was her nose, her head covered in a hat secured by diamond and pearl bobby pins, secured under her chin by a lace scarf, as she inhaled deeply into the clear sea air, and searched the water below her for answers.

 

Her grandmother's reaction to the news was to call out to her beloved, Albert. This made Victoria think about how much she missed her mother. Her mother would've known what to do; her mother would've dealt with this condition far better than anyone else she knew. A former colleague and confidant of Florence Nightingale, she loved the concept of nursing and was extremely good at it. An ideal she infused into Victoria’s younger sister, Ella. Victoria had to admit, she just wasn't that way. Not everyone could embrace bandages, sickness and blood. Not everyone could run into the front line and mop up blood and guts. It was her mother's hands-on approach to illness that cost her her life. Victoria knew that would never be her. She would have to deal with Alice's condition her way, her mother wasn't here and she would have to look to herself.

 

She remembered one of the specialists recommending that Alice learnt to ‘sign’. Victoria’s reaction was so intense, the poor Doctor thought he had suggested giving Alice

diphtheria! Victoria was adamant, there was no reason that Alice should learn to sign, why call attention to the affliction, she was smart, she was intelligent, she could lip read. Then a serious disability could be a mild inconvenience.  No reason to deviate to far from the norm, it was full steam ahead she mused as she looked back down into the deep, troubled and choppy waters.