1875.

April 15th.My best thanks for your dear letter of the 13th. You say rightly, what a fault it is of parents to bring up their daughters with the main object of marrying them. This is said to be a too prominent feature in the modern English education of the higher classes. * * * I want to strive to bring up the girls withoutseekingthis as the sole object for the future—to feel they can fill up their lives so well otherwise. * * * A marriage for thesakeof marriage is surely the greatest mistake a woman can make. * * * I know what an absorbing feeling that of devotion to one’s parent is. When I was at home, it filled my whole soul. It does still, in a great degree, andHeimweh[homesickness] does not cease after ever so long an absence. * * *

April 15th.

My best thanks for your dear letter of the 13th. You say rightly, what a fault it is of parents to bring up their daughters with the main object of marrying them. This is said to be a too prominent feature in the modern English education of the higher classes. * * * I want to strive to bring up the girls withoutseekingthis as the sole object for the future—to feel they can fill up their lives so well otherwise. * * * A marriage for thesakeof marriage is surely the greatest mistake a woman can make. * * * I know what an absorbing feeling that of devotion to one’s parent is. When I was at home, it filled my whole soul. It does still, in a great degree, andHeimweh[homesickness] does not cease after ever so long an absence. * * *

Darmstadt, April 23d.* * * I thought so much of your remarks about daughters, etc., and do think itsonatural and dutiful to remain with one’s parent as long as one is wanted. Is it not a duty when no one else can take one’s place? I should feel it so.

Darmstadt, April 23d.

* * * I thought so much of your remarks about daughters, etc., and do think itsonatural and dutiful to remain with one’s parent as long as one is wanted. Is it not a duty when no one else can take one’s place? I should feel it so.

April 26th.I thank you most tenderly for your loving wishes for my birthday, received on getting up yesterday morning. You can understand that the day was inexpressibly sad, that the fair head missing in our circle was painfully felt, and that all these recollections caused me endless tears and heartache—though not for him, sweet precious child.As you say, life at best is a struggle; happy those who can lie down to rest, having fought their battle well; or those who have been spared fighting it at all, and have remained pure and untouched, barely touching this earth, so mixed up with grief and sin!Let me thank you for the charming photographs, and for the present toward the layette—a most kind assistance.* * * We went to the Mausoleum. The children had made me wreaths to take there, and we all went together. How often and tenderly Ernie speaks of Frittie! It is very touching, and speaks of his deep and warm heart. He said the other day—for the recollection of death has left such a deep impression, and he cannot reconcile it with life, it pains him,—“When I die, you must die too, and all the others; why can’t all die together? I don’t like to die alone, like Frittie.” Poor child! the wish thatallhave, who love their own, so early expressed. * * *

April 26th.

I thank you most tenderly for your loving wishes for my birthday, received on getting up yesterday morning. You can understand that the day was inexpressibly sad, that the fair head missing in our circle was painfully felt, and that all these recollections caused me endless tears and heartache—though not for him, sweet precious child.

As you say, life at best is a struggle; happy those who can lie down to rest, having fought their battle well; or those who have been spared fighting it at all, and have remained pure and untouched, barely touching this earth, so mixed up with grief and sin!

Let me thank you for the charming photographs, and for the present toward the layette—a most kind assistance.

* * * We went to the Mausoleum. The children had made me wreaths to take there, and we all went together. How often and tenderly Ernie speaks of Frittie! It is very touching, and speaks of his deep and warm heart. He said the other day—for the recollection of death has left such a deep impression, and he cannot reconcile it with life, it pains him,—“When I die, you must die too, and all the others; why can’t all die together? I don’t like to die alone, like Frittie.” Poor child! the wish thatallhave, who love their own, so early expressed. * * *

May 4th.Many thanks for your last dear letter written on dear Arthur’s birthday, of which, though late, I wish you joy. Such a good, steady, excellent boy as he is! What a comfort it must be to you, never to have had any cause of uneasiness or annoyance in his conduct! He is so much respected, which for one so young is doubly praiseworthy. From St. Petersburg, as from Vienna, we heard the same account of the steady line he holds to, in spite of all chaffing, etc., from others; which shows character.My mother-in-law tells me that since Miechen has been allowed to retain her religion, this right will of course be conceded to all Princesses in future. Whata good thing, for the changing I always thought too bad, and nowadays so intolerant and narrow. * * * To think of Mr. Van de Weyer also leaving this world! To you he will be a loss, and to all who knew him. Old friends are precious landmarks in the history of one’s life, and not to be replaced by new ones; and it is sad, how time reduces the number as one gets on in life. How deeply you must feel this with each fresh loss! I feel much for you. * * *

May 4th.

Many thanks for your last dear letter written on dear Arthur’s birthday, of which, though late, I wish you joy. Such a good, steady, excellent boy as he is! What a comfort it must be to you, never to have had any cause of uneasiness or annoyance in his conduct! He is so much respected, which for one so young is doubly praiseworthy. From St. Petersburg, as from Vienna, we heard the same account of the steady line he holds to, in spite of all chaffing, etc., from others; which shows character.

My mother-in-law tells me that since Miechen has been allowed to retain her religion, this right will of course be conceded to all Princesses in future. Whata good thing, for the changing I always thought too bad, and nowadays so intolerant and narrow. * * * To think of Mr. Van de Weyer also leaving this world! To you he will be a loss, and to all who knew him. Old friends are precious landmarks in the history of one’s life, and not to be replaced by new ones; and it is sad, how time reduces the number as one gets on in life. How deeply you must feel this with each fresh loss! I feel much for you. * * *

Darmstadt, May 18th.* * * Since 1867 the Emperor’s [of Russia] face shrank so, and he became so thin. When I first saw him, in 1864, he was much stouter and fresher looking. He has many cares, and one sees they weigh upon him, for he is so kind and so well-meaning, and has done so much to advance liberty and culture in his own country.

Darmstadt, May 18th.

* * * Since 1867 the Emperor’s [of Russia] face shrank so, and he became so thin. When I first saw him, in 1864, he was much stouter and fresher looking. He has many cares, and one sees they weigh upon him, for he is so kind and so well-meaning, and has done so much to advance liberty and culture in his own country.

Darmstadt, June 5th.Beloved Mama:—* * * The day (Whitsunday, and dear Frittie’s burial-day) of baby’s birth would have been too sad, had not the fact of its being your birthday given a double significance; but when I heard those bells, and became conscious again of every thing, my feelings were deep and mingled beyond expression. * * * With repeated tender thanks, your most loving child,Alice.

Darmstadt, June 5th.

Beloved Mama:—* * * The day (Whitsunday, and dear Frittie’s burial-day) of baby’s birth would have been too sad, had not the fact of its being your birthday given a double significance; but when I heard those bells, and became conscious again of every thing, my feelings were deep and mingled beyond expression. * * * With repeated tender thanks, your most loving child,

Alice.

June 11th.* * * Having no cow, or country place to keep one, in this tremendous heat where one can’t keep milk, and dysentery carries off so many babies, it would not be fair to deprive the poor little thing of its natural and safest nourishment till the hot monthsare over. These, darling Mama, are my reasons, and though I do it with such pleasure, yet it is not without sacrifices of comfort and convenience, etc.; but it seems to me the best course to take for our children, and as we are situated.Many thanks for being baby’s godmother! It gives us great pleasure.Do thank all our good people for their kind interest. * * *I am driving out this afternoon if cool enough. You must not tell one of the heavenly Scotch air, when one is breathing heated stove air; it makes one too envious.

June 11th.

* * * Having no cow, or country place to keep one, in this tremendous heat where one can’t keep milk, and dysentery carries off so many babies, it would not be fair to deprive the poor little thing of its natural and safest nourishment till the hot monthsare over. These, darling Mama, are my reasons, and though I do it with such pleasure, yet it is not without sacrifices of comfort and convenience, etc.; but it seems to me the best course to take for our children, and as we are situated.

Many thanks for being baby’s godmother! It gives us great pleasure.

Do thank all our good people for their kind interest. * * *

I am driving out this afternoon if cool enough. You must not tell one of the heavenly Scotch air, when one is breathing heated stove air; it makes one too envious.

July 13th.The christening went off very well. Baby looked really pretty for so young an individual. It was in a large room. Marie [Duchess of Edinburgh], quite in pink, held her godchild; and my mother-in-law, with her best love, begs me to tell you, it had pleased her so much that you had asked her to represent you. My three older girls looked very nice, I thought, in lavender silk (your Christmas present). I had the same color, and “Sunny” in pink, was immensely admired. She is still improving in looks since you saw her.I was glad it was another place, in different circumstances from the last christening. As it was, it moved me much. The last time I heard these words, darling Frittie was with us, and now the chain has a gap!* * * We can get nothing at Scheveningen except at exorbitant prices, so we go to that dreadful Blankenberghe—without tree or bush, nothing but a beach and sand banks.Blankenberghe, July 24th.The sea air is doing all good, the children especially, the heat had pulled them so.I have bathed once, and hope it will agree. * * * My cough and relaxed throat are getting better.The rooms are small and few, but clean, and the cooking good, and we are quite satisfied. There is not a soul one knows.

July 13th.

The christening went off very well. Baby looked really pretty for so young an individual. It was in a large room. Marie [Duchess of Edinburgh], quite in pink, held her godchild; and my mother-in-law, with her best love, begs me to tell you, it had pleased her so much that you had asked her to represent you. My three older girls looked very nice, I thought, in lavender silk (your Christmas present). I had the same color, and “Sunny” in pink, was immensely admired. She is still improving in looks since you saw her.

I was glad it was another place, in different circumstances from the last christening. As it was, it moved me much. The last time I heard these words, darling Frittie was with us, and now the chain has a gap!

* * * We can get nothing at Scheveningen except at exorbitant prices, so we go to that dreadful Blankenberghe—without tree or bush, nothing but a beach and sand banks.

Blankenberghe, July 24th.

The sea air is doing all good, the children especially, the heat had pulled them so.

I have bathed once, and hope it will agree. * * * My cough and relaxed throat are getting better.

The rooms are small and few, but clean, and the cooking good, and we are quite satisfied. There is not a soul one knows.

Blankenberghe, August 16th.This day makes me think of our dear kind Grandmama, whose image still dwells amongst us! None who ever knew her can forget how truly lovable she was; and we grandchildren will ever retain such a bright recollection of her. So many little attentions, small souvenirs, kind letters, all tokens of affectionsopleasing to the receivers.Yesterday Louis saved a lady from drowning. He was bathing. The waves were high, and he heard a cry for help, and saw a bather struggling. She had lost her footing. Her husband tried to help her, but was exhausted and let her go; equally so the brother-in-law, and Louis felt he was losing his strength, but she kept her presence of mind and floated. He let her go once till a wave brought her near him again, and he caught her hand and brought her in, feeling quite done himself. I was not in the sea at the time, for the waves were so tremendous that I lost my footing several times, and had come out, fearing an accident. The lady is a Mrs. T. Sligo, a Scotchwoman, and she has just written to me to thank Louis. He is a good swimmer, and very strong. The gentlemen are two grey-haired Scotchmen.Ella has so wonderfully improved since she has been here. She is no more pale and languid, and Ernie is another child also.Luckily it has not been warm, so the air and baths are doubly efficacious. They have done me a world of good. I feel quite different to what I have done ever since Sunny’s birth. I believe the sea to be the only thing for such a relaxed state, and, being strong and healthy by nature, I can’t bear not being well, and feeling so weak. Miss Graves has returned, but the girls have been very good—no trouble at all.

Blankenberghe, August 16th.

This day makes me think of our dear kind Grandmama, whose image still dwells amongst us! None who ever knew her can forget how truly lovable she was; and we grandchildren will ever retain such a bright recollection of her. So many little attentions, small souvenirs, kind letters, all tokens of affectionsopleasing to the receivers.

Yesterday Louis saved a lady from drowning. He was bathing. The waves were high, and he heard a cry for help, and saw a bather struggling. She had lost her footing. Her husband tried to help her, but was exhausted and let her go; equally so the brother-in-law, and Louis felt he was losing his strength, but she kept her presence of mind and floated. He let her go once till a wave brought her near him again, and he caught her hand and brought her in, feeling quite done himself. I was not in the sea at the time, for the waves were so tremendous that I lost my footing several times, and had come out, fearing an accident. The lady is a Mrs. T. Sligo, a Scotchwoman, and she has just written to me to thank Louis. He is a good swimmer, and very strong. The gentlemen are two grey-haired Scotchmen.

Ella has so wonderfully improved since she has been here. She is no more pale and languid, and Ernie is another child also.

Luckily it has not been warm, so the air and baths are doubly efficacious. They have done me a world of good. I feel quite different to what I have done ever since Sunny’s birth. I believe the sea to be the only thing for such a relaxed state, and, being strong and healthy by nature, I can’t bear not being well, and feeling so weak. Miss Graves has returned, but the girls have been very good—no trouble at all.

Kranichstein, August 26th.On dear Papa’s birthday I must send you a few lines. The past is ever bright and vivid in my mind, though year after year intervenes. How must it be for you, who live surrounded by such precious recollections of the happy past!I think doubly of you to-day, and doubly tenderly, sweet Mama!I got home quite right, and found the house here cold. There was no sun, and our rooms being to the north, and the wood so near, makes them feel chilly.I am glad dear Leopold bore the journey well. The air will do him good in his weakened state.The day at Laeken was quiet and pleasant. Marie is still thinner, and more aged, I think. The loss of that nice boy weighs on them still, and they spoke much about it, and she with many tears.Every one has his burden to bear, and must bear it alone with trust and resignation—that is the thing to struggle and to pray for.

Kranichstein, August 26th.

On dear Papa’s birthday I must send you a few lines. The past is ever bright and vivid in my mind, though year after year intervenes. How must it be for you, who live surrounded by such precious recollections of the happy past!

I think doubly of you to-day, and doubly tenderly, sweet Mama!

I got home quite right, and found the house here cold. There was no sun, and our rooms being to the north, and the wood so near, makes them feel chilly.

I am glad dear Leopold bore the journey well. The air will do him good in his weakened state.

The day at Laeken was quiet and pleasant. Marie is still thinner, and more aged, I think. The loss of that nice boy weighs on them still, and they spoke much about it, and she with many tears.

Every one has his burden to bear, and must bear it alone with trust and resignation—that is the thing to struggle and to pray for.

Kranichstein, September 1st.* * * I shall get a comforter done for good Mrs. Brown, kind old woman. I am glad she does not forget me, and shall be pleased to do any little thing that can give her pleasure. Will you tell herthe plaid she made me still goes everywhere with me? How is Mrs. Grant?Louis is gone, and I have a good deal to do every day. We breakfast at half-past eight, then I have baby, and take the children out till eleven. I then have business, baby, and, at one, the elder girls alternately for French reading. After luncheon I write my letters, etc., and before five go out. In the evenings I read, and have supper at eight with the two ladies.Ella is another child since she has been at the seaside—fine color, no longer pale and languid, learns well, and is quite different. Ernie the same, bright and fresh; while before they had been looking pulled and weak, outgrowing their strength.“Sunny” is the picture of robust health, and sweet little “sister Maly” sits up quite alone, and is very neat and rosy, with such quick eyes, and two deep dimples in her cheeks—a great pet, and so like my poor Frittie.The return here has been very painful, and days of great depression still come, when I am tormented with the dreadful remembrance of the day I lost him. Too cruel and agonizing are those thoughts. I dwell onhisrest and peace, and that our sufferings he cannot know. What might not life have brought him? Better so! but hard to say, “God’s will be done.”

Kranichstein, September 1st.

* * * I shall get a comforter done for good Mrs. Brown, kind old woman. I am glad she does not forget me, and shall be pleased to do any little thing that can give her pleasure. Will you tell herthe plaid she made me still goes everywhere with me? How is Mrs. Grant?

Louis is gone, and I have a good deal to do every day. We breakfast at half-past eight, then I have baby, and take the children out till eleven. I then have business, baby, and, at one, the elder girls alternately for French reading. After luncheon I write my letters, etc., and before five go out. In the evenings I read, and have supper at eight with the two ladies.

Ella is another child since she has been at the seaside—fine color, no longer pale and languid, learns well, and is quite different. Ernie the same, bright and fresh; while before they had been looking pulled and weak, outgrowing their strength.

“Sunny” is the picture of robust health, and sweet little “sister Maly” sits up quite alone, and is very neat and rosy, with such quick eyes, and two deep dimples in her cheeks—a great pet, and so like my poor Frittie.

The return here has been very painful, and days of great depression still come, when I am tormented with the dreadful remembrance of the day I lost him. Too cruel and agonizing are those thoughts. I dwell onhisrest and peace, and that our sufferings he cannot know. What might not life have brought him? Better so! but hard to say, “God’s will be done.”

Kranichstein, September 15th.* * * ——’s conversion has created no smaller sensation with us than elsewhere, and theTimescriticised his step so sharply. It remains a retrograde movement for any Protestant, how much more so for a man of his stamp! Quite incomprehensible to me.* * * This Catholic movement isso un-English.I think, among those Ritualists there arebonâ fideCatholics who help to convert. * * *I will send you sweet little Maly’s photograph next time. * * * Baby has a very fair skin, light-brown hair and deep-blue eyes with marked eyebrows, not much color in her cheeks, but pink and healthy-looking altogether.

Kranichstein, September 15th.

* * * ——’s conversion has created no smaller sensation with us than elsewhere, and theTimescriticised his step so sharply. It remains a retrograde movement for any Protestant, how much more so for a man of his stamp! Quite incomprehensible to me.

* * * This Catholic movement isso un-English.I think, among those Ritualists there arebonâ fideCatholics who help to convert. * * *

I will send you sweet little Maly’s photograph next time. * * * Baby has a very fair skin, light-brown hair and deep-blue eyes with marked eyebrows, not much color in her cheeks, but pink and healthy-looking altogether.

Kranichstein, September 24th.* * * People with strong feelings and of nervous temperament, for which one is no more responsible than for the color of one’s eyes, have things to fight against and to put up with, unknown to those of quiet, equable dispositions, who are free from violent emotions, and have consequently no feeling of nerves—still less, of irritable nerves. If I did not control mine as much as I could, they would be dreadful. * * * One can overcome a great deal—butalterone’s self one cannot. * * *

Kranichstein, September 24th.

* * * People with strong feelings and of nervous temperament, for which one is no more responsible than for the color of one’s eyes, have things to fight against and to put up with, unknown to those of quiet, equable dispositions, who are free from violent emotions, and have consequently no feeling of nerves—still less, of irritable nerves. If I did not control mine as much as I could, they would be dreadful. * * * One can overcome a great deal—butalterone’s self one cannot. * * *

October 31st.* * * I always think, that in the end children educate the parents. For their sakes there is so much one must do: one must forget one’s self, if every thing is as it ought to be. It is doubly so, if one has the misfortune to lose a precious child. Rückert’s lovely lines are so true (after the loss of two of his children):Nun hat euch Gott verlieh’n, was wir auch wollten thun,Wir wollten euch erzieh’n, und ihr erzieht uns nun.O Kinder, ihr erziehet mit Schmerz die Eltern jetzt;Ihr zieht an uns, und ziehet uns auf zu euch zuletzt.[123]Yesterday Ernie was telling Orchard that I wasgoing to plant some Spanish chestnuts, and she said: “Oh, I shall be dead and gone before they are big; what a pity we had none sooner!” and Ernie burst out crying and said: “No, you must not die alone—I don’t like people to die alone; we must die all together!” He has said the same to me before, poor darling. After Lenchen’s [Princess Christian’s] boys were gone, and he had seen Eddy and Georgy [sons of the Prince of Wales], his own loss came fresh upon him, and he cried for his little brother! It is the remaining behind the loss, the missing of the dear ones, that is the cruel thing to bear. Only time can teach one that, and resignation to a Higher Will. * * *

October 31st.

* * * I always think, that in the end children educate the parents. For their sakes there is so much one must do: one must forget one’s self, if every thing is as it ought to be. It is doubly so, if one has the misfortune to lose a precious child. Rückert’s lovely lines are so true (after the loss of two of his children):

Nun hat euch Gott verlieh’n, was wir auch wollten thun,Wir wollten euch erzieh’n, und ihr erzieht uns nun.O Kinder, ihr erziehet mit Schmerz die Eltern jetzt;Ihr zieht an uns, und ziehet uns auf zu euch zuletzt.[123]

Nun hat euch Gott verlieh’n, was wir auch wollten thun,Wir wollten euch erzieh’n, und ihr erzieht uns nun.O Kinder, ihr erziehet mit Schmerz die Eltern jetzt;Ihr zieht an uns, und ziehet uns auf zu euch zuletzt.[123]

Nun hat euch Gott verlieh’n, was wir auch wollten thun,Wir wollten euch erzieh’n, und ihr erzieht uns nun.O Kinder, ihr erziehet mit Schmerz die Eltern jetzt;Ihr zieht an uns, und ziehet uns auf zu euch zuletzt.[123]

Yesterday Ernie was telling Orchard that I wasgoing to plant some Spanish chestnuts, and she said: “Oh, I shall be dead and gone before they are big; what a pity we had none sooner!” and Ernie burst out crying and said: “No, you must not die alone—I don’t like people to die alone; we must die all together!” He has said the same to me before, poor darling. After Lenchen’s [Princess Christian’s] boys were gone, and he had seen Eddy and Georgy [sons of the Prince of Wales], his own loss came fresh upon him, and he cried for his little brother! It is the remaining behind the loss, the missing of the dear ones, that is the cruel thing to bear. Only time can teach one that, and resignation to a Higher Will. * * *

Darmstadt, November 9th.* * * The new Church laws (similar to the Prussian) go through our Upper Chamber to-morrow, and will meet with great opposition. Louis is, of course, for accepting them, as a check must be put on the Catholics; for the Catholic clergy are paid by the State as well as the Protestant, so that the State has an equal right over both; but this right the Catholics have for years managed to evade. The Bishop of Mayence is doing his utmost to create every possible obstacle, but it is to be hoped that one will not here have to have recourse to the method of fines and imprisonment as in Prussia * * *

Darmstadt, November 9th.

* * * The new Church laws (similar to the Prussian) go through our Upper Chamber to-morrow, and will meet with great opposition. Louis is, of course, for accepting them, as a check must be put on the Catholics; for the Catholic clergy are paid by the State as well as the Protestant, so that the State has an equal right over both; but this right the Catholics have for years managed to evade. The Bishop of Mayence is doing his utmost to create every possible obstacle, but it is to be hoped that one will not here have to have recourse to the method of fines and imprisonment as in Prussia * * *

November 16th.Many thanks for your dear letter, and for the advice, which, as a mark of your interest in our children, is very precious, besides being so good! What you mention I have never lost sight of, and there is, as you say, nothing more injurious for children than that they should be made a fuss about.I want to make them unselfish, unspoiled, and contented; as yet this is the case. That they take a greater place in my life, than is often the case inourfamilies, comes from my not being able to have enough persons of a responsible sort to take charge of them always; certain things remain undone from that reason, if I do not do them, andtheywould be the losers. I certainly do not belong by nature to those women who are above allwife; but circumstances have forced me to be the mother in the real sense, as in a private family, and I had to school myself to it, I assure you, for many small self-denials have been necessary. Baby-worship, or having the children indiscriminately about one, is not at all the right thing, and a perpetual talk about one’s children makes some women intolerable. I hope I steer clear of these faults—at least I try to do so, for I can only agree ineveryword you say, as does Louis, to whom I read it; and he added when I was reading your remarks: “Das thust Du aber nicht. Die Kinder und andere Menschen wissen gar nicht, was Du für sie thust” [“But you don’t do so. Neither the children nor anybody else knows what you do for them”]. He has often complained that I would not have the children enough in my room, but, being of your opinion, where it was not necessary, I thought it better not. * * *

November 16th.

Many thanks for your dear letter, and for the advice, which, as a mark of your interest in our children, is very precious, besides being so good! What you mention I have never lost sight of, and there is, as you say, nothing more injurious for children than that they should be made a fuss about.I want to make them unselfish, unspoiled, and contented; as yet this is the case. That they take a greater place in my life, than is often the case inourfamilies, comes from my not being able to have enough persons of a responsible sort to take charge of them always; certain things remain undone from that reason, if I do not do them, andtheywould be the losers. I certainly do not belong by nature to those women who are above allwife; but circumstances have forced me to be the mother in the real sense, as in a private family, and I had to school myself to it, I assure you, for many small self-denials have been necessary. Baby-worship, or having the children indiscriminately about one, is not at all the right thing, and a perpetual talk about one’s children makes some women intolerable. I hope I steer clear of these faults—at least I try to do so, for I can only agree ineveryword you say, as does Louis, to whom I read it; and he added when I was reading your remarks: “Das thust Du aber nicht. Die Kinder und andere Menschen wissen gar nicht, was Du für sie thust” [“But you don’t do so. Neither the children nor anybody else knows what you do for them”]. He has often complained that I would not have the children enough in my room, but, being of your opinion, where it was not necessary, I thought it better not. * * *

December 12th.I enclose a few lines to Mr. Martin.[124]I have only had time to look at the preface, and am very glad to hear that you are satisfied.With what interest shall I read it! You will receive these lines on the 14th. Last year I had thecomfort of being near you. It did me real good then, and I thank you again for those short and quiet days, where the intercourse with you was so soothing to my aching heart. There is noUmgang[intercourse] I know, that gives me more happiness than when I can be with you—above all, in quiet. The return to the so-called world I have barely made. Life is serious—a journey to another end. The flowers God sends to brighten our path I take with gratitude and enjoy; but much that was dearest, most precious, which this daycommemorates, is in the grave; part of my heart is there too, though their spirits, adored Papa’s, live on with me, the holiest and brightest part of life, a star to lead us, were we but equal to following it! The older I grow, the more perfect, the more touching and good, dear Papa’s image stands before me. Such anentirelife for duty, so joyously and unpretendingly borne out, remains for all times something inexpressibly fine and grand! With it how tender, lovable, gay, he was! I can never talk of him to others who have not known him, without tears in my eyes—as I have them now. Hewasandismy ideal. I never knew a man fit to place beside him, or so made to be devotedly loved and admired. * * *

December 12th.

I enclose a few lines to Mr. Martin.[124]I have only had time to look at the preface, and am very glad to hear that you are satisfied.

With what interest shall I read it! You will receive these lines on the 14th. Last year I had thecomfort of being near you. It did me real good then, and I thank you again for those short and quiet days, where the intercourse with you was so soothing to my aching heart. There is noUmgang[intercourse] I know, that gives me more happiness than when I can be with you—above all, in quiet. The return to the so-called world I have barely made. Life is serious—a journey to another end. The flowers God sends to brighten our path I take with gratitude and enjoy; but much that was dearest, most precious, which this daycommemorates, is in the grave; part of my heart is there too, though their spirits, adored Papa’s, live on with me, the holiest and brightest part of life, a star to lead us, were we but equal to following it! The older I grow, the more perfect, the more touching and good, dear Papa’s image stands before me. Such anentirelife for duty, so joyously and unpretendingly borne out, remains for all times something inexpressibly fine and grand! With it how tender, lovable, gay, he was! I can never talk of him to others who have not known him, without tears in my eyes—as I have them now. Hewasandismy ideal. I never knew a man fit to place beside him, or so made to be devotedly loved and admired. * * *

December 14th.Before this day is over, I must write a few words—my thoughts are so much with you and with the past, the bright, happy past of my childhood, where beloved Papa was the centre of this rich and happy existence. I have spent nearly the whole day with the precious volume which speaks so much of you and of him.Whata man in every sense of the word; what a Prince he was—so entirely what the dear old Baron[Stockmar] urged him always to be! Life with him must have seemed to you so secure and well-guarded. How you must have loved him! It makes one’s heart ache again and again, in reading and thinking of all dear Papa was to you, that you should have had to part from him in the heat of the day, when he was so necessary.Ihm ist wohl[With him it is well]. A life like his was a whole long lifetime, though only twenty-two years, and he well deserved his rest!The hour is nearing when we last held and pressed his hand in life, now thirteen years ago. How well I recollect that last sunrise, and then the dreadful night with you that followed on that too awful day! But it is not well to dwell on these things, when we have the bright, sunny past to look back to. Tennyson’s beautiful Dedication[125]expresses all one feels and would wish to say. I can only add, with a heavy-drawn sigh, “Oh, to be worthier ofsucha Father!” How far beneath him, if not always in aims, at least in their fulfilment, have I always remained!

December 14th.

Before this day is over, I must write a few words—my thoughts are so much with you and with the past, the bright, happy past of my childhood, where beloved Papa was the centre of this rich and happy existence. I have spent nearly the whole day with the precious volume which speaks so much of you and of him.

Whata man in every sense of the word; what a Prince he was—so entirely what the dear old Baron[Stockmar] urged him always to be! Life with him must have seemed to you so secure and well-guarded. How you must have loved him! It makes one’s heart ache again and again, in reading and thinking of all dear Papa was to you, that you should have had to part from him in the heat of the day, when he was so necessary.Ihm ist wohl[With him it is well]. A life like his was a whole long lifetime, though only twenty-two years, and he well deserved his rest!

The hour is nearing when we last held and pressed his hand in life, now thirteen years ago. How well I recollect that last sunrise, and then the dreadful night with you that followed on that too awful day! But it is not well to dwell on these things, when we have the bright, sunny past to look back to. Tennyson’s beautiful Dedication[125]expresses all one feels and would wish to say. I can only add, with a heavy-drawn sigh, “Oh, to be worthier ofsucha Father!” How far beneath him, if not always in aims, at least in their fulfilment, have I always remained!

December 17th.My best thanks for the letter of the 15th. Poor Colonel Grey’s[126]death is shocking, and Bertie and Alix are sure to have felt it deeply. Dear Bertie’s true and constant heart suffers on such occasions, for he can be constant in friendship, and all who serve him serve him with warm attachment. I hope he won’t give way to the idea of Sandringham being unlucky, though so much that has been trying and sad has happened to them there! Superstition is surely a thing to fight against; above all, with the feeling that all is in God’s hands, not in ours!How interesting the book is [“Life of the Prince Consort”]! I have finished it, and ambefriedigt[satisfied]. It was a difficult undertaking, but Mr. Martin seems to have done it very well.I am sure dear Osborne is charming as ever, but I can’t think of that large house so empty; no children any more; it must seem so forsaken in our old wing. I have such aHeimweh[yearning] to see Osborne again after more than six years. * * *

December 17th.

My best thanks for the letter of the 15th. Poor Colonel Grey’s[126]death is shocking, and Bertie and Alix are sure to have felt it deeply. Dear Bertie’s true and constant heart suffers on such occasions, for he can be constant in friendship, and all who serve him serve him with warm attachment. I hope he won’t give way to the idea of Sandringham being unlucky, though so much that has been trying and sad has happened to them there! Superstition is surely a thing to fight against; above all, with the feeling that all is in God’s hands, not in ours!

How interesting the book is [“Life of the Prince Consort”]! I have finished it, and ambefriedigt[satisfied]. It was a difficult undertaking, but Mr. Martin seems to have done it very well.

I am sure dear Osborne is charming as ever, but I can’t think of that large house so empty; no children any more; it must seem so forsaken in our old wing. I have such aHeimweh[yearning] to see Osborne again after more than six years. * * *

Eachyear the Princess Alice endeavored by some public effort or other—either a dramatic or musical performance—to collect funds for her many charitable institutions which, as they extended their field of usefulness, were more and more in need of pecuniary help. Artists as well as amateurs gladly offered their services on all such occasions.

In the beginning of this year the Prince and Princess and their children went to England for two months, spending part of the time with the Queen, and part with the Prince and Princess of Wales. The two eldest daughters, Victoria and Elizabeth, accompanied their grandmother to Balmoral in May.

The whole family returned to Darmstadt at the end of June. In July the Prince and Princess Louis were present at the “coming of age” of the Hereditary Grand Duke of Baden. The rest of the summer was spent at Kranichstein.

In 1874 the Hessian Government had amended their educational laws for the schools, and had established, as a fundamental principle, that needle-workin all its branches should be taught in all girls’ schools, and that suitable teachers for this purpose should be engaged. To meet this necessity, a course of lectures and instruction in the art of needle-work was instituted by the “Alice Society,” open to women and girls of all classes. This has proved in its results of real blessing and benefit to the whole country.

[The next two letters arose out of the expression of an opinion on the part of some of the Prince Consort’s friends, that the publication of his Life under the sanction of the Queen, with unreserved fulness of details, had been premature.]

Darmstadt, January 3d, 1875.* * * It is touching and fine in you to allow the world to have so much insight into your private life, and allow others to have what has been onlyyourproperty and our inheritance.People can only be the better for reading about dear Papa, such as he was, and such as so feelingly and delicately Mr. Theodore Martin places him before them. To me the volume is inexpressibly precious, and opens a field for thought in various senses.For the frivolous higher classes how valuable this book will be, if read with real attention, as a record of a life spent in the highest aims, with the noblest conception of duty as a leading star.

Darmstadt, January 3d, 1875.

* * * It is touching and fine in you to allow the world to have so much insight into your private life, and allow others to have what has been onlyyourproperty and our inheritance.

People can only be the better for reading about dear Papa, such as he was, and such as so feelingly and delicately Mr. Theodore Martin places him before them. To me the volume is inexpressibly precious, and opens a field for thought in various senses.

For the frivolous higher classes how valuable this book will be, if read with real attention, as a record of a life spent in the highest aims, with the noblest conception of duty as a leading star.

To this letter Her Majesty replied:

Osborne, January 12, 1875.Dearest Alice:—* * * Now as regards the book. If you will reflect a few minutes, you willsee how I owed it to beloved Papa to let his noble character be known and understood, as it now is, and that to wait longer, when those who knew him best—his own wife, and a few (very few there are) remaining friends—were all gone, or too old, and too far removed from that time, to be able to present a really true picture of his most ideal and remarkable character, would have been really wrong.He must be known, for his own sake, for the good of England and of his family, and of the world at large. Countless people write to say, what good it does and will do. And it is already thirteen years since he left us!Then you must also remember, that endless false and untrue things have been written and said about us, public and private, and that in these days people will write and will know: therefore the only way to counteract this is to let the real, full truth be known, and as much be told as can be told with prudence and discretion, and then, no harm, but good, will be done. Nothing will help me more, than that my people should see what I have lost! Numbers of people we knew have had their Lives and Memoirs published, and some beautiful ones: Bunsen’s by his wife; Lord Elgin’s, by his (very touching and interesting); Lord Palmerston’s; etc., etc.“The Early Years” volume was begun for private circulation only, and then General Grey and many of Papa’s friends and advisers begged me to have it published. This was done. The work was most popular and greatly liked. General Grey could not go on with it, and asked me to ask Sir A. Helps to continue it, and he said that he could not, but recommended Mr. Theodore Martin as one of the most eminent writers of the day, and hoped I could prevail on him to undertake this great national work. I did succeed, and he has taken seven years to prepare the whole, supplied by me with every letter and extract; and a deal of time it took, but I felt it would be a national sacred work. You must, I think, see I am right now; Papa and I too would have suffered otherwise. I think even the German side of his character will be understood.One of the things that pleases people most is the beautiful way in which he took all good Stockmar’s often very severe observations. And they also admire so much good old Stockmar’s honesty, fearlessness, and are pleased to be shown what a dear warm-hearted old man he was. Your devoted Mama,V. R.

Osborne, January 12, 1875.

Dearest Alice:—* * * Now as regards the book. If you will reflect a few minutes, you willsee how I owed it to beloved Papa to let his noble character be known and understood, as it now is, and that to wait longer, when those who knew him best—his own wife, and a few (very few there are) remaining friends—were all gone, or too old, and too far removed from that time, to be able to present a really true picture of his most ideal and remarkable character, would have been really wrong.

He must be known, for his own sake, for the good of England and of his family, and of the world at large. Countless people write to say, what good it does and will do. And it is already thirteen years since he left us!

Then you must also remember, that endless false and untrue things have been written and said about us, public and private, and that in these days people will write and will know: therefore the only way to counteract this is to let the real, full truth be known, and as much be told as can be told with prudence and discretion, and then, no harm, but good, will be done. Nothing will help me more, than that my people should see what I have lost! Numbers of people we knew have had their Lives and Memoirs published, and some beautiful ones: Bunsen’s by his wife; Lord Elgin’s, by his (very touching and interesting); Lord Palmerston’s; etc., etc.

“The Early Years” volume was begun for private circulation only, and then General Grey and many of Papa’s friends and advisers begged me to have it published. This was done. The work was most popular and greatly liked. General Grey could not go on with it, and asked me to ask Sir A. Helps to continue it, and he said that he could not, but recommended Mr. Theodore Martin as one of the most eminent writers of the day, and hoped I could prevail on him to undertake this great national work. I did succeed, and he has taken seven years to prepare the whole, supplied by me with every letter and extract; and a deal of time it took, but I felt it would be a national sacred work. You must, I think, see I am right now; Papa and I too would have suffered otherwise. I think even the German side of his character will be understood.

One of the things that pleases people most is the beautiful way in which he took all good Stockmar’s often very severe observations. And they also admire so much good old Stockmar’s honesty, fearlessness, and are pleased to be shown what a dear warm-hearted old man he was. Your devoted Mama,

V. R.

January 18th.* * * The service in Dr. Weber’s study before the open coffin, filled with flowers, was very affecting. He was truly beloved and respected. His sufferings must have been intense, and for many years borne heroically—not a word said; not a complaint; always ready to bear the sorrows of others with them, yet bearing his own unassisted! Wonderful self-command and unselfishness! He knew his illness was fatal; even to the latter weeks considered his days as but few, and put all in order, without letting his family and friends know what he himself only too well foresaw.It was a stormy afternoon with pouring rain when he was buried. Louis, his poor boy, and many were out. * * *We have April weather. I have a very heavy cold, and feel so weak and done up. It is too warm and unhealthy; every place smells, our house especially.January 27th.* * * My little May has such a cold, which lessens her usual smiles. She is a fine, strong child, more like what Victoria was, but marked eyebrows, with the fair hair and such speaking eyes. She and Aliky are a pretty contrast!

January 18th.

* * * The service in Dr. Weber’s study before the open coffin, filled with flowers, was very affecting. He was truly beloved and respected. His sufferings must have been intense, and for many years borne heroically—not a word said; not a complaint; always ready to bear the sorrows of others with them, yet bearing his own unassisted! Wonderful self-command and unselfishness! He knew his illness was fatal; even to the latter weeks considered his days as but few, and put all in order, without letting his family and friends know what he himself only too well foresaw.

It was a stormy afternoon with pouring rain when he was buried. Louis, his poor boy, and many were out. * * *

We have April weather. I have a very heavy cold, and feel so weak and done up. It is too warm and unhealthy; every place smells, our house especially.

January 27th.

* * * My little May has such a cold, which lessens her usual smiles. She is a fine, strong child, more like what Victoria was, but marked eyebrows, with the fair hair and such speaking eyes. She and Aliky are a pretty contrast!

February 14th.You say of the drains just what I have said from year to year; and this summer—if we can get away in the spring, when it is most unwholesome—what can be done is to be done, and I hope with better success than what has hitherto been attempted.My little May cannot get rid of her cough, though she looks pink and smiling. I shall be so glad to show her to you—she is so pretty and dear.My father-in-law has for the first time got the gout in his feet, and is so depressed. Uncle Louis suffers dreadfully from oppression at night, so that he can’t remain in bed. He is a good deal aged, and stoops dreadfully. * * *

February 14th.

You say of the drains just what I have said from year to year; and this summer—if we can get away in the spring, when it is most unwholesome—what can be done is to be done, and I hope with better success than what has hitherto been attempted.

My little May cannot get rid of her cough, though she looks pink and smiling. I shall be so glad to show her to you—she is so pretty and dear.

My father-in-law has for the first time got the gout in his feet, and is so depressed. Uncle Louis suffers dreadfully from oppression at night, so that he can’t remain in bed. He is a good deal aged, and stoops dreadfully. * * *

March 14th.Louis gave me a dreadful fright last week by suddenly breaking through the ice, and at a very deep place. He laid his arms over the thicker ice, and managed to keep above water till some one was near enough to help him out. He said the water drew immensely, and he feared getting under the ice. The gentleman, who is very tall, lay down and stretched his arms out to Louis, another man holding the former: and so he got out without ill effects. As it was at Kranichstein, he undressed and rubbed himself before the stove in the Verwalter’s [land-steward’s] room; and he came home in the Verwalter’s clothes, which looked very funny. * * *Marlborough House, May 15th.I did not half thank you yesterday for our pleasant visit. I could not trust myself to speak. I felt leaving you again so much. It has been a great happiness to me, sowohlthuend[doing me so much good] to have been with you, and I can never express what I feel, as I would, nor how deep and tender my love and gratitude to you are! The older I grow, the more precious theVerhältniss[relation] to a mother becomes to me, and how doubly so to you!Louis feels as I do; his love to you has always been as to his own mother; and my tears begin to run when I recall your dear face and voice, which to see and hear again has seemed so natural, so—as it ought to be! that it is quite difficult to accustom myself to the thought that only in memory can I enjoy them now.How I do love you, sweet Mama! There is no sacrifice I would not make for you! and as our meetings are of late years so fleeting and far between, when they are over I feel the separation very much. * * *

March 14th.

Louis gave me a dreadful fright last week by suddenly breaking through the ice, and at a very deep place. He laid his arms over the thicker ice, and managed to keep above water till some one was near enough to help him out. He said the water drew immensely, and he feared getting under the ice. The gentleman, who is very tall, lay down and stretched his arms out to Louis, another man holding the former: and so he got out without ill effects. As it was at Kranichstein, he undressed and rubbed himself before the stove in the Verwalter’s [land-steward’s] room; and he came home in the Verwalter’s clothes, which looked very funny. * * *

Marlborough House, May 15th.

I did not half thank you yesterday for our pleasant visit. I could not trust myself to speak. I felt leaving you again so much. It has been a great happiness to me, sowohlthuend[doing me so much good] to have been with you, and I can never express what I feel, as I would, nor how deep and tender my love and gratitude to you are! The older I grow, the more precious theVerhältniss[relation] to a mother becomes to me, and how doubly so to you!

Louis feels as I do; his love to you has always been as to his own mother; and my tears begin to run when I recall your dear face and voice, which to see and hear again has seemed so natural, so—as it ought to be! that it is quite difficult to accustom myself to the thought that only in memory can I enjoy them now.

How I do love you, sweet Mama! There is no sacrifice I would not make for you! and as our meetings are of late years so fleeting and far between, when they are over I feel the separation very much. * * *

Marlborough House, June 15th.* * * God bless you, my precious Mother, watch over and guard you; and let your blessing and motherly interest accompany us and our children! Louis’ tenderest love; many, many kisses from all children, and William’s respectful duty!

Marlborough House, June 15th.

* * * God bless you, my precious Mother, watch over and guard you; and let your blessing and motherly interest accompany us and our children! Louis’ tenderest love; many, many kisses from all children, and William’s respectful duty!

Kranichstein, June 20th.* * * All Victoria and Ella tell me of their stay at Balmoral—the many things you gave them and their people—touches me so much: let me thank you so many times again. I feel I did not half say enough, but you knowhow muchI feel it!Our journey did very well; no one was ill, after that dreadful storm—a piece of luck. You are now again at Windsor. How much I think of you and of dear Beatrice!

Kranichstein, June 20th.

* * * All Victoria and Ella tell me of their stay at Balmoral—the many things you gave them and their people—touches me so much: let me thank you so many times again. I feel I did not half say enough, but you knowhow muchI feel it!

Our journey did very well; no one was ill, after that dreadful storm—a piece of luck. You are now again at Windsor. How much I think of you and of dear Beatrice!

July 10th.* * * We got home from Carlsruhe at eleven o’clock last night. We went there on Thursday; arrived at two; were received there by Fritz and Louise and the Emperor; found dear Marie Leiningen and Hermann and Leopoldine there. Fritz W. arrived half an hour afterwards from Vienna, having met with a railway accident in the night; but he was, thank God, unhurt—barely shaken.It was frightfully hot! Family dinner at five; then a drive about the town, which was decked with flags. At nine in the evening a large soirée and continual circle! and supper—sucha heat! At eight next morning in gala, church service. Fritz (son) for the first time in uniform with the Black Eagle; then at ten a very fine parade, in which Fritz marched past as second lieutenant with his regiment. The troops were so fine; the Emperor led his own regiment past, and it was a very moving sight, with a great deal of cheering. At two there was a large banquet, at which Fritz made a beautiful speech, and the Emperor a very good answer.All Fritz’s (son) former school-fellows, and the different schools and masters, came by in procession, and the day was very fatiguing. He is such a good boy. His former tutor, who finished his task of education yesterday, said to me: “Er ist einguterMensch und die Wahrheit selber” [He is a good man, and truth itself]. He was very self-possessed, modest, and civil, talking to every one. He is full of promise, and has been carefully and lovinglybrought up by his parents, who are such excellent people. I have the greatest regard for them.I told the Emperor the fright we had about the war. He was much distressed, that any one could believe him capable of such a thing; but our Fritz and Fritz of Baden agree that, with Bismarck, in spite of the nation not wishing it, he might bring about a war at any moment. Our Fritz spokesojustly and reasonably—quite anti-war—and I told him all the opinions I had gathered and heard in London; and he was much grieved and worried, I could see; but it must and can be prevented, ifallare against it, I am sure. This enormous and splendid army, ready at any moment, is a dangerous possession for any country. * * *

July 10th.

* * * We got home from Carlsruhe at eleven o’clock last night. We went there on Thursday; arrived at two; were received there by Fritz and Louise and the Emperor; found dear Marie Leiningen and Hermann and Leopoldine there. Fritz W. arrived half an hour afterwards from Vienna, having met with a railway accident in the night; but he was, thank God, unhurt—barely shaken.

It was frightfully hot! Family dinner at five; then a drive about the town, which was decked with flags. At nine in the evening a large soirée and continual circle! and supper—sucha heat! At eight next morning in gala, church service. Fritz (son) for the first time in uniform with the Black Eagle; then at ten a very fine parade, in which Fritz marched past as second lieutenant with his regiment. The troops were so fine; the Emperor led his own regiment past, and it was a very moving sight, with a great deal of cheering. At two there was a large banquet, at which Fritz made a beautiful speech, and the Emperor a very good answer.

All Fritz’s (son) former school-fellows, and the different schools and masters, came by in procession, and the day was very fatiguing. He is such a good boy. His former tutor, who finished his task of education yesterday, said to me: “Er ist einguterMensch und die Wahrheit selber” [He is a good man, and truth itself]. He was very self-possessed, modest, and civil, talking to every one. He is full of promise, and has been carefully and lovinglybrought up by his parents, who are such excellent people. I have the greatest regard for them.

I told the Emperor the fright we had about the war. He was much distressed, that any one could believe him capable of such a thing; but our Fritz and Fritz of Baden agree that, with Bismarck, in spite of the nation not wishing it, he might bring about a war at any moment. Our Fritz spokesojustly and reasonably—quite anti-war—and I told him all the opinions I had gathered and heard in London; and he was much grieved and worried, I could see; but it must and can be prevented, ifallare against it, I am sure. This enormous and splendid army, ready at any moment, is a dangerous possession for any country. * * *

Kranichstein, October 7th.* * * To-day my eyes will not remain dry; the recollection of five years ago, which brought us joy and promise of more in our sweet second boy, is painful in the extreme. The sudden ending of that young life; the gap this has left; the recollections that are now but to be enjoyed in silent memory, will leave a heart-ache and a sore place, beside where there is much happiness and cause for gratitude. The six children and we, with endless flowers and tears, decked his little grave this morning, and some sad lines of Byron’s struck me as having much truth in the pain of such moments—But when I stood beneath the fresh green tree,Which living waves where thou didst cease to live,And saw around me the wide field reviveWith fruits and fertile promise, and the SpringCome forth her work of gladness to contrive,With all her reckless birds upon the wing,I turn’d from all she brought, to those she could not bring.[127]The weather is fine; it was much like this five years ago, but round Metz it rained. Louis was turning into quarters with his troops from a sortie, and he called the news out to the regiments as he rode along, and they gave a cheer for their little Prince!It was a dreadful time of trial and separation for both of us, and Frittie was such a comfort and consolation to me in all my loneliness.How sorry I am for poor Alix at this long separation![128]For her sake I grieve at the impossibility of her accompanying him.We hope to get back to our house by the 19th, though there will be an end of nice walks for the next eight months—the town grows so, and is all railroad and coal heaps where we had our walks formerly, and the town pavement in the streets is most unpleasant walking. * * *

Kranichstein, October 7th.

* * * To-day my eyes will not remain dry; the recollection of five years ago, which brought us joy and promise of more in our sweet second boy, is painful in the extreme. The sudden ending of that young life; the gap this has left; the recollections that are now but to be enjoyed in silent memory, will leave a heart-ache and a sore place, beside where there is much happiness and cause for gratitude. The six children and we, with endless flowers and tears, decked his little grave this morning, and some sad lines of Byron’s struck me as having much truth in the pain of such moments—

But when I stood beneath the fresh green tree,Which living waves where thou didst cease to live,And saw around me the wide field reviveWith fruits and fertile promise, and the SpringCome forth her work of gladness to contrive,With all her reckless birds upon the wing,I turn’d from all she brought, to those she could not bring.[127]

But when I stood beneath the fresh green tree,Which living waves where thou didst cease to live,And saw around me the wide field reviveWith fruits and fertile promise, and the SpringCome forth her work of gladness to contrive,With all her reckless birds upon the wing,I turn’d from all she brought, to those she could not bring.[127]

But when I stood beneath the fresh green tree,Which living waves where thou didst cease to live,And saw around me the wide field reviveWith fruits and fertile promise, and the SpringCome forth her work of gladness to contrive,With all her reckless birds upon the wing,I turn’d from all she brought, to those she could not bring.[127]

The weather is fine; it was much like this five years ago, but round Metz it rained. Louis was turning into quarters with his troops from a sortie, and he called the news out to the regiments as he rode along, and they gave a cheer for their little Prince!

It was a dreadful time of trial and separation for both of us, and Frittie was such a comfort and consolation to me in all my loneliness.

How sorry I am for poor Alix at this long separation![128]For her sake I grieve at the impossibility of her accompanying him.

We hope to get back to our house by the 19th, though there will be an end of nice walks for the next eight months—the town grows so, and is all railroad and coal heaps where we had our walks formerly, and the town pavement in the streets is most unpleasant walking. * * *

Schloss Kranichstein, October 16th.For your dear letter and for the inclosures I am so grateful, but distressed beyond measure at dear Fannie’s [Lady Frances Baillie]. I had a long letter from her some weeks back, when she was more hopeful about dear Augusta [Stanley]. This is too much sorrow for them all! Fannie I loved as a sister, and dear Augusta’s devotion and self-sacrifice to you, and even to us in those dreadful years, was something rare and beautiful. Her whole soul and heart were in the duty, which to her was a sacred one. The good, excellent Dean! My sympathy is so great with these three kind and good people so sorely tried. I grieve for you too! God help them!

Schloss Kranichstein, October 16th.

For your dear letter and for the inclosures I am so grateful, but distressed beyond measure at dear Fannie’s [Lady Frances Baillie]. I had a long letter from her some weeks back, when she was more hopeful about dear Augusta [Stanley]. This is too much sorrow for them all! Fannie I loved as a sister, and dear Augusta’s devotion and self-sacrifice to you, and even to us in those dreadful years, was something rare and beautiful. Her whole soul and heart were in the duty, which to her was a sacred one. The good, excellent Dean! My sympathy is so great with these three kind and good people so sorely tried. I grieve for you too! God help them!

October 26th.How sorry I am for dear good old Mrs. Brownand for her sons.[129]Please say something sympathizing from me; her blindness is such a trial, poor soul, at that age. How gloomily life must close for her!

October 26th.

How sorry I am for dear good old Mrs. Brownand for her sons.[129]Please say something sympathizing from me; her blindness is such a trial, poor soul, at that age. How gloomily life must close for her!

Althoughthis new year brought no actual change to the usual routine of the daily life in the Princess’ home, and although the Princess was able to fulfil her social duties, traces of serious illness now began to show themselves by repeated attacks of exhaustion and weakness. These attacks were partially relieved by a short stay in the Black Forest in June, and by a visit to England and Scotland, which she made without her husband. The Prince had been detained in Germany by the great manœuvres, on the conclusion of which he fetched her from England, in the autumn. On their way back to Darmstadt they stopped at Brussels. They also visited Coblenz, to pay their respects to the Empress of Germany, who had been to see their children at Darmstadt in October.

January 18th, 1876.No words can express how deep my sympathy and grief is for what our dear Augusta and the Dean have to go through. With her warm, large heart, which ever lived and suffered for others, how great must her pain be in having to leave him! I can positively think of nothing else lately, as you knowmy love for Augusta, the General [her brother, General Bruce], and Fanny has always been great; and when I think back of them in former times, and in the year 1861, my heart aches and my tears flow—feeling what you and we shall lose in dear Augusta. My pity for the dear, good, kind Dean is so deep. I sent him a few words again to-day, in the hope he may still say a few words of love and gratitude to dear Augusta from me.

January 18th, 1876.

No words can express how deep my sympathy and grief is for what our dear Augusta and the Dean have to go through. With her warm, large heart, which ever lived and suffered for others, how great must her pain be in having to leave him! I can positively think of nothing else lately, as you knowmy love for Augusta, the General [her brother, General Bruce], and Fanny has always been great; and when I think back of them in former times, and in the year 1861, my heart aches and my tears flow—feeling what you and we shall lose in dear Augusta. My pity for the dear, good, kind Dean is so deep. I sent him a few words again to-day, in the hope he may still say a few words of love and gratitude to dear Augusta from me.

Darmstadt, January 22d.* * * Yesterday morning Ernie came in to me and said, “Mama, I had a beautiful dream; shall I tell you? I dreamt that I was dead and was gone up to Heaven, and there I asked God to let me have Frittie again; and he came to me and took my hand. You were in bed, and saw a great light, and were so frightened, and I said, ‘It is Ernie and Frittie.’ You were so astonished! The next night Frittie and I went with a great light to sisters.” Is it not touching? He says such beautiful things, and has such deep poetic thought, yet with it all so full of fun and romping.

Darmstadt, January 22d.

* * * Yesterday morning Ernie came in to me and said, “Mama, I had a beautiful dream; shall I tell you? I dreamt that I was dead and was gone up to Heaven, and there I asked God to let me have Frittie again; and he came to me and took my hand. You were in bed, and saw a great light, and were so frightened, and I said, ‘It is Ernie and Frittie.’ You were so astonished! The next night Frittie and I went with a great light to sisters.” Is it not touching? He says such beautiful things, and has such deep poetic thought, yet with it all so full of fun and romping.

February 9th.* * * I am so sorry and shocked about excellent Mr. Harrison.[130]Whata loss! He was so obliging and kind always in the many commissions for us children. Poor Kräuslach,[131]too—so sad! It is too grievous; how one well-known face—with its many associations—after another, is called away; and on looking back, how short a space of time they seemed to have filled!

February 9th.

* * * I am so sorry and shocked about excellent Mr. Harrison.[130]Whata loss! He was so obliging and kind always in the many commissions for us children. Poor Kräuslach,[131]too—so sad! It is too grievous; how one well-known face—with its many associations—after another, is called away; and on looking back, how short a space of time they seemed to have filled!

Wolfach, June 7th.* * * The heat here is excessive; the wildflowers covering every field are more beautiful than I have ever seen them anywhere—such quantities of large forget-me-nots. The streams are very much like Scotch ones; the valleys are partly very narrow, and the hills wooded to the very top—rather like the Thüringer Wald, but more different greens: such lovely coloring. I admire the country so much.

Wolfach, June 7th.

* * * The heat here is excessive; the wildflowers covering every field are more beautiful than I have ever seen them anywhere—such quantities of large forget-me-nots. The streams are very much like Scotch ones; the valleys are partly very narrow, and the hills wooded to the very top—rather like the Thüringer Wald, but more different greens: such lovely coloring. I admire the country so much.

Darmstadt, June 23d.* * * How sorry I am for good, kind old Mrs. Brown—to be blind with old age seems so hard, so cruel; but I am sure with your so loving heart you have brightened her latter years in many kind ways. It is such a pleasure to do any thing for the aged; one has such a feeling of respect for those who have the experience of a long life, and are nearing the goal.* * * Yesterday, again, the Emperor Alexander spoke to me, really rejoicing that the political complications were clearing peacefully: “Dites à Maman encore une fois comme cela me réjouit, et de savoir comme c’est elle qui tient à la paix. Nous ne pouvons, nous ne voulons pas nous brouiller avec l’Angleterre. Il faudrait être fou de penser à Constantinople ou aux Indes!” He had tears in his eyes, and seemed so moved, as if a dreadful weight was being lifted off; so happy for the sake of Marie, and Affie, too, that matters were mending. He showed me after dinner the buttons you gave him; spoke also so affectionately of Bertie. * * * I thought of you—thirty-nine years of rule not to be envied, save for the service one can render one’s country and the world in general in such an arduous position.Private individuals are, of course, far the best off—our privileges being more duties than advantages—and their absence would be no privation compared to the enormous advantage of being one’s own master, and of being on equality with most people, and able to know men and the world as they are, and not merely as they please to show themselves to please us. * * *

Darmstadt, June 23d.

* * * How sorry I am for good, kind old Mrs. Brown—to be blind with old age seems so hard, so cruel; but I am sure with your so loving heart you have brightened her latter years in many kind ways. It is such a pleasure to do any thing for the aged; one has such a feeling of respect for those who have the experience of a long life, and are nearing the goal.

* * * Yesterday, again, the Emperor Alexander spoke to me, really rejoicing that the political complications were clearing peacefully: “Dites à Maman encore une fois comme cela me réjouit, et de savoir comme c’est elle qui tient à la paix. Nous ne pouvons, nous ne voulons pas nous brouiller avec l’Angleterre. Il faudrait être fou de penser à Constantinople ou aux Indes!” He had tears in his eyes, and seemed so moved, as if a dreadful weight was being lifted off; so happy for the sake of Marie, and Affie, too, that matters were mending. He showed me after dinner the buttons you gave him; spoke also so affectionately of Bertie. * * * I thought of you—thirty-nine years of rule not to be envied, save for the service one can render one’s country and the world in general in such an arduous position.

Private individuals are, of course, far the best off—our privileges being more duties than advantages—and their absence would be no privation compared to the enormous advantage of being one’s own master, and of being on equality with most people, and able to know men and the world as they are, and not merely as they please to show themselves to please us. * * *

Darmstadt, July 5th.* * * We dined with Uncle Louis, the Emperor, etc., and Grand Duke of Weimar, at Seeheim yesterday. The Emperor said he had written to you, but Prince Gortschakoff seemed only half-happy, and said to me: “Franchement puis-je vous le dire, je désirerais voir l’Angleterre grande, forte, décidée dans la politique, comme l’était Canning et les grands hommes d’état que j’ai connus en Angleterre il y a quarante ans. La Russie est grande et forte; que l’Angleterre le soit aussi; nous n’avons pas besoin de faire attention à tous les petits.” He said we made our foreign policy and despatches for the Blue Book, and not an open decided policy before the House of Commons and the world. It may interest you to hear this opinion, as it shows the temper of his policy.

Darmstadt, July 5th.

* * * We dined with Uncle Louis, the Emperor, etc., and Grand Duke of Weimar, at Seeheim yesterday. The Emperor said he had written to you, but Prince Gortschakoff seemed only half-happy, and said to me: “Franchement puis-je vous le dire, je désirerais voir l’Angleterre grande, forte, décidée dans la politique, comme l’était Canning et les grands hommes d’état que j’ai connus en Angleterre il y a quarante ans. La Russie est grande et forte; que l’Angleterre le soit aussi; nous n’avons pas besoin de faire attention à tous les petits.” He said we made our foreign policy and despatches for the Blue Book, and not an open decided policy before the House of Commons and the world. It may interest you to hear this opinion, as it shows the temper of his policy.

September 5th.It is long since I have felt such pain as the death (to me really sudden and unexpected, in spite of the danger inherent in her case) of my good, devoted, kind Emily[132]has caused me. My tears won’t cease. Louis, the children, the whole household, all mourn and grieve with me. She was singularly beloved, and richly deserved to be so! Her devotion and affection to me really knew no bounds. I cannot think what it will be to miss her. I haveneverbeenserved as she served me, and probably never shall be so again. It is a wrench that only those can estimate who knew her well—like poor Mary Hardinge. She came first in Emily’s heart, and the loss for her is quite,QUITEirreparable! Had I but seen dear Emily again! This sudden, cruel sort of death shocks me so.How I should have nursed and comforted her had I been near her! She always wished this, and told me she had such a fear of death. There never breathed a more unselfish, generous, good character.

September 5th.

It is long since I have felt such pain as the death (to me really sudden and unexpected, in spite of the danger inherent in her case) of my good, devoted, kind Emily[132]has caused me. My tears won’t cease. Louis, the children, the whole household, all mourn and grieve with me. She was singularly beloved, and richly deserved to be so! Her devotion and affection to me really knew no bounds. I cannot think what it will be to miss her. I haveneverbeenserved as she served me, and probably never shall be so again. It is a wrench that only those can estimate who knew her well—like poor Mary Hardinge. She came first in Emily’s heart, and the loss for her is quite,QUITEirreparable! Had I but seen dear Emily again! This sudden, cruel sort of death shocks me so.

How I should have nursed and comforted her had I been near her! She always wished this, and told me she had such a fear of death. There never breathed a more unselfish, generous, good character.

September 6th.* * * I fear you will find me so dull, tired, and useless. I can do next to nothing of late, and must rest so much. Poor Emily! My thoughts never leave her. I cannot yet get accustomed to the thought of her loss.P. S.—Just received your dear note. The accounts of my dear Emily’s sad end have just reached me, and I am terribly upset. You can hardly estimate the gap, the blank she will leave—my only lady, and in many wayshomme d’affaires. We had been so much together this last waiting; every thing reminds me of her, and of the touching love she bore me. Surely some years more she would have lived.Darling Mama, I don’t think you quite know how far from well I am, and how absurdly wanting in strength. I only mention it, that you should know that until the good air has set me up I am good for next to nothing; and I fear I sha’n’t be able to come to dinner the first evenings. I hope you won’t mind. I have never in my life been like this before. I live on my sofa, and in the air, and see no one, and yet go on losing strength! Of course this unexpected shock has done me harm too, and has entailed more sad things. * * *Douglas’ Hotel,Edinburgh, Sunday, September 11th.* * * I hear Ernie is still so dull and melancholy at missing me; he always feels it most, with that tender loving heart of his. God preserve and guard this to me so inexpressibly precious child! I fancy that seldom a mother and child so understood each other, and loved each other, as we two do. It requires no words; he reads in my eyes, as I do in his, what is in his little heart.It is so wonderfully still here, not a soul in the streets. The people of the house have sent up several times to enquire when and to what church I was going; so I shall go, as it seems to shock them, one’s staying away. I shall see the Monument this afternoon, and go and see Holyrood again. The whole journey here brought back with the well-remembered scenery the recollection of my childhood, all the happy journeys with dear Papa and you. How the treasured remembrance, with the deep love, lives on, when all else belongs to the past!I seem, in returning here, so near you and him in former happy years, when my home was in this beloved country. No home in the world can quite become what the home of one’s parents and childhood was. There is a sacredness about it, a feeling of gratitude and love for the great mercies one had there. You, who never left country,Geschwister[kindred], or home, can scarcely enter into this feeling.In the hopes of meeting you soon, kissing your dear hands, with thanks for all goodness, and many excuses for having caused so much trouble. * * *

September 6th.

* * * I fear you will find me so dull, tired, and useless. I can do next to nothing of late, and must rest so much. Poor Emily! My thoughts never leave her. I cannot yet get accustomed to the thought of her loss.

P. S.—Just received your dear note. The accounts of my dear Emily’s sad end have just reached me, and I am terribly upset. You can hardly estimate the gap, the blank she will leave—my only lady, and in many wayshomme d’affaires. We had been so much together this last waiting; every thing reminds me of her, and of the touching love she bore me. Surely some years more she would have lived.

Darling Mama, I don’t think you quite know how far from well I am, and how absurdly wanting in strength. I only mention it, that you should know that until the good air has set me up I am good for next to nothing; and I fear I sha’n’t be able to come to dinner the first evenings. I hope you won’t mind. I have never in my life been like this before. I live on my sofa, and in the air, and see no one, and yet go on losing strength! Of course this unexpected shock has done me harm too, and has entailed more sad things. * * *

Douglas’ Hotel,Edinburgh, Sunday, September 11th.

* * * I hear Ernie is still so dull and melancholy at missing me; he always feels it most, with that tender loving heart of his. God preserve and guard this to me so inexpressibly precious child! I fancy that seldom a mother and child so understood each other, and loved each other, as we two do. It requires no words; he reads in my eyes, as I do in his, what is in his little heart.

It is so wonderfully still here, not a soul in the streets. The people of the house have sent up several times to enquire when and to what church I was going; so I shall go, as it seems to shock them, one’s staying away. I shall see the Monument this afternoon, and go and see Holyrood again. The whole journey here brought back with the well-remembered scenery the recollection of my childhood, all the happy journeys with dear Papa and you. How the treasured remembrance, with the deep love, lives on, when all else belongs to the past!

I seem, in returning here, so near you and him in former happy years, when my home was in this beloved country. No home in the world can quite become what the home of one’s parents and childhood was. There is a sacredness about it, a feeling of gratitude and love for the great mercies one had there. You, who never left country,Geschwister[kindred], or home, can scarcely enter into this feeling.

In the hopes of meeting you soon, kissing your dear hands, with thanks for all goodness, and many excuses for having caused so much trouble. * * *

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