Princess Odette's Vacation, Glencraig Castle, Summer of 1855
The birth of Princess Elisabetta in May 1855 proved to be long and difficult, with Odette's labor lasting roughly twelve hours. The birth was assisted with chloroform, luckily, a drug that Queen Mary supported her daughters using to ease the pains of labor. Odette wished to recuperate in Windenburg; however, her doctors advised her to remain in Tartosa for at least a month before traveling. Following Elisabetta's baptism, Odette hastily traveled to Windenburg, accompanied by all her children except Deo, who had begun his military training in Aosta. The royal entourage included the family's Windenburgian governess, Anne Louisa Smith, Odette's closest confidante and maid of honor, Teresa Colonna, Princess of Castiglione, and her secretary, Sir Joseph Campbell. The royal party arrived at Glencraig on the Tartosan royal yacht, Antonia, on July 1st, to spend the summer holiday with Queen Mary II.
"Glencraig: a lovely medieval castle, the ancestral home of Windenburgian Royalty, and where I spent most of my childhood. The large palace had enormous walls and massive gardens planted in the former moats of the fortress. The western side of the castle has beautiful views of the sea and a little village, which we used to visit with our grandmother, the dear Dowager Countess. Looking eastward, one can admire the beautiful gardens, forests, and picturesque towns of Langley and Colinbrook, filled with little tudor houses and stone cottages. Glencraig had become my mother's sanctuary in the years following my dear Papa's death. Far away from the cities of San Myshuno and Windenburg, my mother could finally find peace in the countryside, in the place where her children were raised.
A quiet family life here, the children adored by all their family, especially Annie, who is the favorite. Annie feels quite at home in the castle, running through the halls with her siblings and cousins, especially dear Helene, whom she adores. I left the children for a week at Glencraig while I visited my paternal relations and my maternal grandmother, the Dowager Duchess of Rochester, in San Myshuno. By the time I returned, Annie had known every corner of the castle, every stone, she was friends with every servant, and knew everyone in the village. My younger brother, Eddy, who had finished his naval training, stayed at Glencraig with the children. He read to the children every evening, reading many amusing tales. Little Bertie was obsessed with his uncle, often climbing on his shoulders and ordering him to give a piggy-back ride through the castle halls. Brother Charles mostly kept to himself, but was only brought out of his rooms to see little Bertie, who would wait outside his door every morning like a little puppy.
A large corridor circles the inner courtyard of the palace, containing hundreds of years-old treasures, tapestries, paintings, and old furniture. Here, Manny rides his bicycle recklessly through the halls. He never seems to reach the point of exhaustion. Ophelia's daughter, Irene, loves to chase Manny on his bicycle, with the dogs running behind them. Mama's little terrier, Sparky, has the tiniest body, yet the loudest bark. It terrifies baby Betta, who awakens whenever he barks. Betta wasn't the only baby in the castle that summer; my sisters, Anne and Charlotte, had given birth the same year. My beloved Anne had struggled with pregnancy and finally gave birth to a baby boy, Philippe, my godson. Philippe had beautiful blue eyes, just like Betta; he had that typical tiny León nose that all the men of the Magnolian family have. Meanwhile, Charlotte had her one-year-old, Theodora. Theodora was a handsome baby; she had golden curls and blue eyes, resembling Charlotte in her childhood. Cece, Charlotte's eldest, had been a terrible baby, crying whenever Mama held her, but Theo never cried; she was perfect. May, Matilda, and my Fran loved our babes, spending hours in the nursery playing with them. Fran loved her younger aunts, almost like they were her own sisters. Fran and Annie accompanied one another everywhere, but that summer, Fran spent all her time with May and Matilda, greatly saddening Annie.
Mama's rooms were filled with treasures, mementos, and tokens from my childhood. Cameos, portraits, and photographs of family members, especially of her paternal family, the Wittenburgs. She had a large Gainsborough painting of my great-grandmother, Queen Odette, hanging from the fireplace, along with cameos of all her aunts, Elliana, Elizabeth, and Amelia. A portrait of my grandmother, the formidable Dowager Duchess of Rochester, stared down visitors as soon as they entered her chambers. The walls were still draped in black damask, almost eight years after my dear papa's death. Mama had Papa's old desk moved into her room, where she wrote extensively in her journal every day. Papa's bedchamber, which he seldom used, where he passed away, was like a time capsule. The bedsheets and firewood were changed every day, almost like he was still alive, but alas, no one was allowed to use the room.
Mama inspected the children every morning at breakfast, which was often crowded. She insisted that we all eat together, although it was becoming difficult when there were twenty-five of us. Each one of her grandchildren had to inform the Queen what they had learned from their studies, which terrified them. Anxious Manny would stumble over his words, which made Mama chuckle. She was greatly amused by Annie, who was by far one of her favorites. Annie would always make witty comments, which made the entire table laugh profusely. In the evenings, Mama would go on a carriage ride throughout the estate, often in the company of her grandchildren, sisters-in-law, or one of her ladies-in-waiting. I accompanied Mama once with Aunt Georgiana, who had recently lost her husband. Mama and Aunt Georgiana clung to one another during widowhood, becoming the best of friends and lifelong companions. Aunt Georgie, as I called her, had beautiful dark hair, tan skin, and delicate features, much like Papa, but was draped in a black shawl and veil, which hid her beautiful face. She was one of the most fashionable women of the court, always wearing bright, beautiful dresses made from the finest fabrics, but now, in widowhood, was confined to wearing black for the rest of her life, like Mama. Aunt Georgie and Mama had a long conversation with me about married life, exchanging stories and reminiscing on shared memories from decades ago. Aunt Georgie had asked me about my marriage, whereupon my mother grasped her hand and glanced at her with caution. I had forgotten about my troubles until that very moment, not even thinking about my husband in weeks. We sat in awkward silence for ten minutes before we arrived back at Glencraig. " - Chapters of My Life: The Lost Journal of Queen Odette of Tartosa (1955)
