AT HOME AND AT WORK. 1866-1872. (continued 2)

Uncle Louis and his Umgebung [the people about him] will all be against my Louis, as they think it a shame and injustice to give up any of their rights, and that it is unpardonable of Louis to act up to what he has always said. He is so good a nephew, that all this will be dreadfully painful to him; but he is quite convinced that his duty to his country and his future demands this step of him. He is obliged to go away from here, as he does not think it right for him to be always in opposition to Uncle Louis, and as he cannot gain by it what the country and the troops require. On account of all these reasons he considers it right to leave.

He wished me to write all this to you, as he knows you will understand and not disapprove the confidence he bestows on one, on whose opinion he quite relies. He looks forward so much to coming to England, as he is worried and harassed by all that has happened. In all this he has again shown, as of old, that he always places himself and his wishes and feelings in the background, and that to serve others and to do his duty are the sole aims of his existence. He will, as soon as he has received an answer from the Grand Duke, telegraph to you to settle our plans. The children are overjoyed at the prospect of seeing their dear Grandmama again.

I am not up to very much, I don’t always feel quite strong; but the change will do me good, I am sure.

May 16th.

The Grand Duke has not as yet consented to Louis’ resignation. Louis has made conditions, under which it will be possible for him to remain, if Uncle L. consents. The first condition is to have a Prussian officer at his side. The Grand Duke declared he would sooner lose his country than give his consent to that. Louis has now officially written his letter of requirements, and sent it. But, whatever happens, he will be able to get a short leave, he thinks, by the beginning of June.

May 19th.

The military affair is at length settled. Uncle Louis has given in to the points Louis demanded, and he retains his command. All are astonished at Louis’ unlooked-for success in this affair, and as Uncle L. would not have a Prussian General, and had no one here to take in Louis’ stead, who could do the things well, he had to agree and to allow what Louis was justified in asking. Louis’ firmness and decision have done great good, and all are thankful to him for it, though others, who ought to do as he has done, have never shown the courage.

Louis is laid up with the most awful nettle-rash all over face and body, and is so unwell with it. He has had it now three days. Altogether since the winter, or rather since the war, he has had so much cause for vexation, that he has been constantly unwell; and each time he is much worried he has an attack of illness.

May 29th.

* * * I presided at my committee of seven ladies and four gentlemen a long while yesterday, and to-morrow I have my other one, which is more numerous. It is an easy task, but I hope we shall have good results from our endeavors.

Paris, June 9th.

I really am half killed from sight-seeing and fêtes, but all has interested me so much, and the Emperor and Empress [of the French] have been most kind. Yesterday was the ball at the Hôtel de Ville, quite the same as it had been for you and dear Papa, and there were more than 8,000 people there. It was the finest sight I have ever seen, and it interested me all the more, as I knew it was the same as in the year when you were at Paris.

Every morning we went to the Exhibition, and every evening there was a dinner or ball. It was most fatiguing. To-morrow morning we leave, and had really great trouble to get away, for the Emperor and Empress and others begged us so much to remain for the ball at the Tuileries to-morrow night; but we really could not, on account of Wednesday’s concert,[78] as we should barely arrive in time.

The attentat on the Emperor of Russia was dreadful, and we were close by at the time. The Empress can’t get over it, and she does not leave Uncle Sache’s[79] side for an instant now, and takes him everywhere in her carriage.

To-day we are going with the whole Court to Versailles. Dear Vicky is gone. She was so low the last days, and dislikes going to parties so much just now, that she was longing to get home. The King [of Prussia] wished them both to stop, but only Fritz remained. How sad these days will be for her, poor love! She was in such good looks; every one here is charmed with her.

[During the months of June and July, 1867, the Princess with her family was on a visit in England.]

Darmstadt, August 4th.

We arrived here at midnight on Friday and I was so knocked up * * * that I was incapable of doing any thing yesterday.

* * * My poor Willem[80] was buried yesterday. Every one regrets the poor child, for he was very dear. I miss him so much here, for he did every thing for me, and liked being about me and the children. All our servants went to the burial. It quite upset me here not to find him, for I was really attached to him, and he learnt so well, and was in many ways so nice, though of course troublesome too at times. How short life is, and the instant one is gone, he is so wiped away for others, and one knows so absolutely nothing about the person any more! Were it not for a strong faith in a future, it would indeed be cruel to bear. No one of the family is here. We leave to-morrow for Zürich, where we shall be at ten at night; the next day to Chur, and the next day to St. Moritz.

St. Moritz, August 1st.

With perfect weather we accomplished our journey perfectly, and were enchanted with the beautiful scenery from Zürich here, not to speak of this place.

The first day—5th—we left Darmstadt at 11 A.M., and did not reach Zürich till eleven at night. We got two little rooms in the Hôtel Baur, but the whole place was full. The next morning after breakfast we went to look at the lovely lake, which is green and quite transparent. It was a beautiful warm morning. We left by rail at ten, partly along the lake of Zürich and then along the Wallenstädter See, which is long and narrow, with high perpendicular mountains down to the water—very wild and picturesque. This lake likewise is of that marvellous green color. We reached Chur at three that afternoon—a pretty small town, situated close up against a mountain. We visited a beautiful old church there, which contains fine old pictures and relics; it was built in the time of the Romans, and is still the chief church of the bishopric.

The next morning we two, with Sarah, Logoz and our footman, left at six o’clock in a diligence (we both sitting in the coupé in front) with four horses, for here the road is the grandest one can imagine, perpetually ascending for two hours, and then descending again, always along precipices, and the horses at a quick trot turning sharp round the corners—which, I assure you is a trial to the best nerves. We drove over the Julier Pass, which was a road already used by the Romans, and which is almost the highest in Switzerland. One passes close to the top of the mountains, which have snow on them, and are wild and rugged like the top of Lochnagar. Lower down, the mountains are covered with bright green grass and fir trees, but rocks look out everywhere, and there are constantly lovely water-falls.

After crossing the Pass, we drove down—very steep, of course nothing on the edge of the road, always zigzag, and at a sharp trot—for some distance down to Silva Plana, where the view over the valley and lakes of the Engadine, where St. Moritz lies, is beyond description beautiful.

We reach this in the evening at six o’clock, the weather being most beautiful. The Curhaus is below the town, and looks like a large asylum. It is overfilled with people. We have two rooms, but our people as yet, none, though they hope for some to-morrow.

I saw Dr. Berry, a little Swiss man, and he recommended me to take the baths twice a week, besides drinking the waters; which I have begun this morning at seven o’clock, the usual hour, as one has to walk up and down a quarter of an hour between the glasses. The bath I took at ten. It is tepid and also iron water, which bubbles like soda water, and makes one feel as if insects were crawling over one.

Lina Aumale is here, the Parises and Nemours. Fritz and Louise [of Baden] leave to-morrow. This afternoon we drove with them, in two funny little “Wageli” with one horse, to Samaden, where Louise went into the hotel to see Mme. d’Usedom, who was lately upset with her carriage off the road, as there is no barrier, and hurt herself severely. We saw her brother likewise.

I have sent you a nosegay of Edelweiss and other Alp flowers. I hope it won’t arrive quite dead. You must fancy them alive, and, if they could speak, they would tell you how much I love you, and how constantly I think of you, and of my dear, dear home!

St. Moritz, August 11th.

* * * All the Orleans’ left this place suddenly yesterday, as there are three cases of scarlatina in the house. We consulted the doctor immediately, whether he thought it safe for Louis to remain, he never having had it, and he said, “Perfectly, as we are at the other end of the house, and out nearly all day.”

Victor and Lolo [Count and Countess Gleichen] are here, and we went out drawing together yesterday; but it is too difficult here. I think constantly how much you would admire this place: it is indeed exquisitely beautiful—much the finest I have ever seen. It is very wild and reminds me in parts of dear Scotland.

You say that our home in England is dull now for those who like to amuse themselves. It is never dull, darling Mama, when one can be with you, for I have indeed never met a more agreeable charming companion. Time always flies by when one is with you. I hope it is not impertinent my saying so.

St. Moritz, August 13th.

* * * I knew you would feel for me at the loss of my poor Willem. Of course one must feel that sort of loss more than that of many a relation, if one knew the latter but little. I said to Louis at the time, that Willem’s death distressed me more than would that of several relations who were not intimate with me. * * *

Yesterday we and the Gleichens went to the Rosegg Glacier, and to get there had to go from Pontresina in little Bergwagen, which are strong miniature Leiterwagen without springs, and we went over a horrid path with quantities of stones, so the shaking was beyond description.

Victor and Lolo go mostly with us and we always dine together.

I take three glasses beginning at seven in the morning, and a bath at eight. One lies in a wooden thing, covered over up to one’s chin with boards, and remains so twenty minutes.

We lunch at twelve and dine at half-past six, and go to bed early. We are out nearly all day long. It is very warm, the sun scorching; my face is quite red-brown, in spite of veils and parasols. I feel already very much better, and Louis says my face is quite fat. I wish we could remain longer than the end of the month, but Louis must be home.

I hope you notice the pains I take with my writing, for you complained of it at Osborne—I fear, justly—and I am trying to improve it again.

St. Moritz, August 16th.

Yesterday we made a beautiful expedition, which it may amuse you to hear of, as in an exaggerated way it reminded me of our nice Scotch ones. The evening before we left with Victor and Lolo (without servants) about eight o’clock for Pontresina. The country looked more beautiful than ever in the brightest moonlight. We found two very small but clean rooms in an hotel outside the village.

The next morning we got up at half-past four, dressed, and breakfasted, then got on four horses with most uncomfortable saddles, with our guide Adam Engler, an amusing man, most active and helpful. We saw the sun rising over the snow-covered mountains, and the valleys gradually coming out clearer.

We were to ascend the Piz Languard, a mountain 1,200 feet high. We rode for two hours by a worse and much steeper road than up the Glassalt, then walked over rocks, sand, and slippery grass, so steep that one could not look up to see where one was going to, quite precipitous on each side, leaving snow and glacier below us. The last bit has a sort of immensely high steps hewn in the rock. After an hour and a half’s hard labor we reached the summit, which is rocky and small—enormous precipices all round. Poor Lolo was giddy for some time, which was very unpleasant. The view from the top is most extensive. The Italian, Swiss, and Tyrolese Alps are all to be seen, but the view was not very clear. We rested and ate something, and drank some Lochnagar whisky. The sun was getting intense. We commenced our descent at eleven o’clock, and had to walk the whole way back, for one can’t ride down. We did not reach Pontresina till nearly four, as we had to rest several times, our limbs ached so, for there is no level ground the whole way, and the stones slip, and it was very hot. I had quite sore feet with blisters all over, so that the last hours were really agonizing. But it is a thing to have done, and the view amply repaid one, though one does not feel tempted to do it a second time. I feel very well, excepting my face, (which is still burning and quite red), and my unfortunate feet.

Poor Christa wrote to me yesterday, and says:—

“I must also tell your Royal Highness that I have received a letter in her own hand from Her Majesty the Queen. I cannot express how deeply this has moved me and filled me with gratitude. God bless the Queen for her rare human love; for surely there is no one, who in such a position as hers, has preserved a heart like hers, so full of kindness and sympathy for others.”[81]

Dear sweet Mama, your kind and sisterly words have been balsam to many a wounded heart, and many are the blessings that have been craved for you from above by hearts filled with thankfulness for your true sympathy.

St. Moritz, August 21st.

* * * Now I will tell you of our expedition. Louis and I, Victor and Lolo, and a guide, with each a small bag, left this early on the morning of the 17th (dear Grandmama’s birthday) in a carriage for Pontresina; from thence, in two of those shaky Bergwagen, over part of the Bernina Pass, past the magnificent Morteratsch Glacier, which we saw perfectly. The guide told us he had been there with Professor Tyndall, and that the latter had observed that the glacier advanced a foot a day in the warm weather, and old people recollect it having been a mile higher up. We soon left the high-road, and all vegetation, save grass, for a bad path into the Val da Fain. The heat was again intense. We lunched and rested, and then took the horses out of the carts for us ladies to ride. The scenery was wild and severe, until we began again to descend, and came down upon the lovely Livigno Valley, which is Italian, and covered with brown châlets. We reached the village of Livigno, with only wooden huts, by six o’clock, and turned into a funny little dark inn, in which we four found one small but clean room for us—most primitive. As the inhabitants speak a sort of Italian, we had the greatest difficulty to make ourselves understood. Victor cooked part of the dinner, and it was quite good.

We all slept—I resting on a bed, the other three on the floor—in this little room, with the small window wide open.

The next morning we left at nine, and drove on no road in such a small carriage—of course, no springs—our husbands at first getting a lift on the horses, without saddles; then on foot up a steep and dangerous ascent. Splendid weather, but too hot. We went over the Pass of the Stretta: a more difficult and rough ground I never crossed in my life, but splendid scenery. We came on a view which was glorious—such enormous snow-covered mountains and glaciers, with the green valleys deep below looking on Italy and the Tyrol.

We reached Bormio by seven, and took up our residence at a bathing-place, quite magnificently situated, very high up—also Italian. The next morning we started early in carriages, and went over the Stelvio Pass. There, nearly at the risk of my neck, I picked for the first time some Edelweiss, which I am very proud of, as it is always difficult and rare to get.

We got down to St. Maria, which is at the upper end of the Münsterthal and belongs to Switzerland. In the afternoon, dreadfully hot, I was very thirsty and drank off a glass of milk; but how it tasted! It was goat’s milk; the people keep the cow’s milk for butter and cheese. We remained the night there, and left the next morning for here, by Zernetz and Ofen. To get from one valley into another, one has always to ascend and descend enormous heights, and always by narrow paths at the edge of precipices. We enjoyed our tour immensely, and got on perfectly without servants. Packing up my things, though, every morning was a great trouble, and the bag would usually not shut at first. The trees growing here are splendid larches and arven[82]; the latter grow only in these very high regions and in Siberia. Victor and his wife are most amiable and pleasant travelling-companions, and pleased with every thing; not minding to rough it, which we had to do.

Schloss Mainau, August 30th.

* * * We left St. Moritz at seven, and reached Chur at seven in the evening. The next day we came on here to Louise of Baden. Fritz is at Carlsruhe. This place is very lovely, though, alas! the fine mountains are gone, which one always misses so much.

I thought of you more than I can say on the dear 26th, and I felt low and sad all day. Dear Papa! Time has not yet accustomed us to see each anniversary come round again, and he still remain away. It is so inexpressibly hard for you, and you must feel such intense longing for the dear past. There remains a future! that is the only consolation.

To-day we went with Louise by carriage, and then across part of the lake to the property of the Emperor Napoleon, Arenenberg, which the Empress gave him eight years ago, and which was his home with his mother, and where she died. Every picture and bit of furniture is replaced as it was when the Emperor lived there, and he was there himself and replaced every thing. It is quite a page in history to see all the things that surrounded the Emperor in the days of his misfortune.

Darmstadt, September 8th.

* * * I spent three days and two nights with dear Alix at Wiesbaden, and I find her leg decidedly better. * * * It is a little less hot to-day, but much hotter even now than we ever have in England. Stallmeister Meyer[83] came to see us yesterday, and we took him out riding, which made him quite happy. Any one who reminds me of the good old times before the 14th of December does me good; it is a pleasure to speak about those past, so happy days! When they came to a close, I lost the greater part of my joyousness, which, though I am so happy, has never returned. A certain melancholy and sadness sometimes overcome me, which I can’t shake off; then I have Heimweh after adored Papa to such an extent that tears are my only relief.

Darmstadt, September 20th.

* * * The King of Prussia’s visit went off very well here, and both high personages seemed pleased to have got over the meeting. The King came most kindly to see us, and went over all our rooms, which seemed to amuse him. * * * Yesterday evening Sache and Minnie[84] arrived, and we intend going over to see them all to-morrow.

Louis will retain the command, but, according to the King’s advice, has demanded a Prussian General Stabschef [Chief of the Staff], which will be a great assistance to him.

At the sale of the Homburg things I bought a lovely miniature of dear Grandmama in a black velvet gown, with a red shawl over her shoulder—shortly after her marriage, I think.

Darmstadt, October 3d.

Yesterday evening I returned from Wiesbaden, leaving Alix well, but having caught a bad cold myself. The children have equally heavy ones.

Darmstadt, October 8th.

Many thanks for your letter just received, and for the review of dear Papa’s Life, which is excellent, and which I sent on to Aunt Feodore, as you desired. I have been laid up for a week with influenza, and am only about again since yesterday, though not out of the house. I am quite weak from it. The whole house is laid up with bad colds, and baby can’t shake her’s off at all. The cough is so tiring, and she whoops whenever she coughs. Poor Jäger, who is, alas! we fear, consumptive, broke a blood-vessel two days ago, and is dangerously ill, to the great grief of all in the house. He is our best servant, and so devoted; he never would take care of himself, as he could not bear letting any one but himself attend on Louis. We have just got a Diakonissin [Deaconness] to nurse him; on account of his great weakness he can’t be left alone one instant.

Sir William, Lady, and Charlotte Knollys have been on a visit to us; also Lady Geraldine Somerset for two nights. They are all interested to see our house.

Uncle George has made me a present of one of the horses the Sultan sent him.

Darmstadt, October 10th.

I can’t find words to say how sorry I am that dear sweet Arthur should have the small-pox! and that you should have this great anxiety and worry. God grant that the dear boy may get well over it, and that his dear handsome face be not marked! Where in the world could he have caught it? The Major kindly telegraphs daily, and you can fancy, far away, how anxious one is. I shall be very anxious to get a letter with accounts, for I think constantly of him, and of you. My parents-in-law wish me to tell you how they share your anxiety, and how they wish soon to hear of dear Arthur’s convalescence; of course my Louis likewise, for he shares all my feelings, being a real brother towards my Geschwister [brothers and sisters].

We both paid the King of Prussia our respects at Frankfort this morning, principally to tell him that Bertie had been so grieved at the ill success of his intended visit, as the Queen begged us to do.

I am better to-day, but Ella and Irène can’t shake off their colds, and poor Ella is altogether unwell. Victoria is all right.

We are going on the 18th to Baden for Fritz’s birthday.

Darmstadt, October 14th.

How glad I am to see by your letter that darling Arthur is going on so very well. One can’t be too thankful; and it is a good thing over, and will spare one’s being anxious about him on other occasions.

Bertie and Alix have been here since Saturday afternoon, and leave to-morrow. They go straight to Antwerp, and Bertie is going back to Brussels to see the cousins.

The visit of the King went off very well, and Alix was pleased with the kindness and civility of the King. I hear that the meeting was satisfactory to both parties, which I am heartily glad of. Bearing ill-will is always a mistake, besides its not being right.

Dear Alix walked up our staircase with two sticks, of course very slowly, but she is improving wonderfully, though her knee is quite stiff.

Poor Jäger is a little better, and the momentary danger is past, though I fear he cannot ultimately recover. How hard for poor Katrinchen! There is much sorrow in the world, and how often such a share falls to the best and gentlest! I, of course, go to see him daily, but it always goes to my very heart to see that attached and faithful creature dying slowly away. How is Brown’s sister?

We hope that Countess Blücher will return here with Vicky and me from Baden for a few days, as it is an age since Vicky has seen her.

Dear Alix is writing in my room at this moment, and is so dear and sweet. She is a most lovable creature.

Darmstadt, October 23d.

I have had the pleasure of having Augusta and the Dean [Stanley] here since yesterday, but they leave again this morning.

The King of Prussia is here to-day, and there is a large dinner for him in the Schloss, and he is kind enough to come and see me afterward.

The accounts of poor dear Aunt Feodore are so sad, and I hear she does not look well, and is so low about her eyes and being unable to see you again after so long a separation. She seems alone and lonely, with old age and sickness coming over her. If I had been well, I should have gone to see her. I am much better these last days. I can breathe much better, but the dreadfully swelled ankles and wrists remain as bad as before, and cause great discomfort and even pain. I never had this before.

Schweinsberg, October 24th.

Dear Vicky and Fritz left us yesterday morning. It is such a pleasure to me to think that they, like Bertie and Alix, know my house, and that they have lodged under our roof. When will you, darling Mama? If ever again you go abroad and wish to rest on your way, all in the world we have is at your disposal. How happy that would make us!

We ourselves left at four yesterday afternoon, remaining the night at Marburg, and leaving at a quarter to five in the morning, so that Louis could reach Alsfeld in time to join the shooting-party. We parted at Kirchhain, and I came here with Christa to her mother’s house—so sad and changed since three years ago. It is most kind of them to have taken me up here, and the bracing air will do me good. They know that I can understand what a house of mourning is, and that I don’t want to amuse myself.

Ella cried on parting with us yesterday, and wanted to get into the train with us.

Victoria is going to have a little lesson every other day, when I go back, from Mr. Geyer, who taught poor Willem, and who teaches little girls particularly well. She must begin in my room, as it is better not to have lessons in the nursery, I think. Vicky and I spoke much together about education and taking a governess. I thought to wait a year (for financial reasons), and I think it time enough then—do not you?

Darmstadt, October 26th.

* * * We arrived late at Baden, and Vicky and Fritz, who had had two long days’ journey, were very tired; but we had to go to dress at once, to go to a soirée at Madame Viardot’s, which lasted till midnight, and at which the King and Queen were present. Her daughters and scholars sang a little operetta she had composed, which was very pretty.

I hope the inauguration of the statue went off as well as the weather would permit.

November 15th.

* * * It is so good and wholesome not always to be one’s own master, and to have to suit one’s self to the wish of others, and, above all, to that of one’s mother and sovereign. —— feels it as such, and often told me so, regretting how seldom such was the case.

The Moriers are often with us, and we value them much; they are such pleasant companions, and such excellent, clever people.

Darmstadt, December 6th.

* * * The visit to Claremont must have been quite peculiar for you; and I can fancy it bringing back to your mind the recollections of your childhood. In spring it must be a lovely place, and, with gayer papers on the walls, and a little modern comfort, the house must likewise be very pleasant. Ella, who was breakfasting with me just now, saw me dip my Bretzel in my coffee, and said: “Oh, Mama, you must not! Do you allow yourself to do that?” because I don’t allow her to do it. She is too funny, and by no means quite easy to manage—a great contrast to Victoria, who is a very tractable child. Ella has a wonderful talent for sewing, and, when she keeps quiet a little while, sews quite alone and without mistakes. She is making something for you for Christmas, which she is quite excited about. Victoria’s little afternoon lesson answers admirably, and is the happiest time of the day for her. She can read words already.

We have snow and ice, and no sunshine since some time, and it is not inviting to take the dull walks in the town. But I make a rule to go out twice a day, and keep nearly the same hours as at home.

The account of your visit to Lady Palmerston and to her daughter is most touching. It is so inexpressibly sad for grandmother and mother, for it is unnatural for parents to survive their children, and that makes the grief a so peculiar one, and very hard to bear.

December 9th.

* * * During the long winter days, when Louis is away sometimes four times in the week from six in the morning till six in the evening, and then when he returns from his shooting has his work to do, I feel lonely. I am often for several hours consecutively quite by myself; and for my meals and walks only a lady, as she is the only person in the house besides ourselves. It is during these hours, when one cannot always be reading or at work, that I should wish to have some one to go to, or to come to me to sit and speak with; but such is not the case, and it is this I regret—accustomed as I was to a house full of people, with brothers and sisters, and above all, the chance of being near you. I always feel how willingly I would spend some of those hours with or near you—and the sea ever lies between us! When Louis is at home and free—for in the morning I don’t see him—then I have all that this world can give me, for I am indeed never happier than at his dear side; and time only increases our affection, and binds us closer to each other.

We have deep snow now and sledging the last two days.

December 12th.

Before going to rest, I take up my pen to write a few loving words that they may reach you on the morning of the 14th. The sound of that date brings with it that sad and dreary recollection which, for you, my poor dear Mama, and for us, time cannot alter. As long as our lives last, this time of year must fill us with sad and earnest feelings, and revive the pain of that bitter parting.

I ought not to dwell on those hours now, for it is wrong to open those wounds afresh, which God in His mercy finds little ways and means to heal and soothe the pain of.

Dear darling Papa is, and ever will be immortal. The good he has done; the great ideas he has promulgated in the world; the noble and unselfish example he has given, will live on, as I am sure he must ever do, as one of the best, purest, most God-like men that have come down into this world. His example will, and does, stimulate others to higher and purer aims; and I am convinced that darling Papa did not live in vain. His great mission was done; and what has remained undone he has placed in your dear hands, who will know best how to achieve his great works of love and justice. I shall think much, very much, of you on the 14th, and you will be more in my prayers than ever. Think also a little of your most devoted child!

Darmstadt, Christmas Day.

We missed poor Willem so much in arranging all the things; and poor Jäger’s illness was also sad. We gave him a tree in his room. He looks like a shadow, and his voice is quite hoarse.

To two hospitals, the military and the town one, I took presents yesterday, and saw many a scene of suffering and grief. My children are going to give a certain number of poor children a Bescheerung on New Year’s Day. It is so good to teach them early to be generous and kind to the poor. They even wish to give some of their own things, and such as are not broken.

Your many generous presents will find their use at once, and the Christmas pie, etc., be shared by all the family. The remembrances of those bright happy Christmases at Windsor are constantly before me. None will ever be again what those were, without you, dear Papa, and dear kind Grandmama.

Darmstadt, December 27th.

* * * I am sure you will have felt under many a circumstance in life, that if any momentary feeling was upon you, and you were writing to some one near and dear, it did you good to put down those feelings on paper, and that, even in the act of doing so, when the words were barely written, the feeling had begun to die away, and the intercourse had done you good.

1868.

Although the winter season brought many social duties with it, the Princess’ active personal attention to all those good works and institutions which she had called into existence never flagged. No subject of interest or importance escaped her, and her time was always fully occupied. In April she met the Crown Prince at Gotha, where Prince Louis also came, on his return from Munich, to fetch her. She spent the months of June and July in England with her three little girls, either at Osborne, Windsor, or in London. The return journey to Darmstadt was made by water as far as Mayence. The autumn was spent at Kranichstein, in the neighborhood of which the manœuvres of the Hessian division took place, at some of which the Princess was present.

On the 25th of November, to the great joy of the parents and the country, a son and heir was born—“a splendid boy.” At his christening, on the 28th of December, he received, at the special desire of the Grand Duke, the names Ernst Ludwig—which had been borne by so many of the old Landgraves of Hesse. The sponsors were the Queen of England and the King of Prussia.

Darmstadt, January 24th.

* * * To-night I am going to act with two other persons in our dining-room a pretty little piece called “Am Klavier,” but I fear I shall be very nervous, and consequently act badly, which would be too tiresome.

I have never tried to act in any thing since “Rothkäppchen.”

February 14th.

What a fright the news of dear Leopold’s dangerous attack has given us! Mr. Sahl’s letter to Becker arrived yesterday afternoon containing the bad news, and he spoke of so little hope, that I was so upset and so dreadfully distressed for the dear darling, for you, poor Mama, and for us all, that I am quite unwell still to-day.

When your telegram came to-day, and Louise’s letter, I was so relieved and only pray and hope that the improvement may continue. May God spare that young bright and gifted life, to be a comfort and support to you for many a year to come!

Had I only had a telegram! for, the letter being two days old, until your telegram came I passed six such agonizing hours! Away from home, every news of illness or sorrow there is so difficult to bear—when one can share all the anxiety and trouble only in thought.

The day passes so slowly without news, and I am always looking toward the door to see if a telegram is coming. Please let me hear regularly till he is quite safe; I do love the dear boy, as I do all my brothers and sisters, so tenderly!

How I wish you had been spared this new anxiety! Those two days must have been dreadful!

Darling Mama, how I wish I were with you! God grant that in future you may send us only good news.

Louis and my parents-in-law send their respectful love and the expression of their warmest sympathy, in which the other members of the family join.

February 2d.

How glad and truly thankful I am, that the Almighty has saved our darling Leopold and spared him to you and to us all! For the second or even third time that life has been given again, when all feared that it must leave us! A mother’s heart must feel this so much more than any other one’s, and dear Leopold, through having caused you all his life so much anxiety, must be inexpressibly dear to you, and such an object to watch over and take care of. Indeed from the depth of my heart I thank God with you for having so mercifully spared dear Leo, and watched over him when death seemed so near!

You will feel deeply now the great joy of seeing a convalescence after the great danger, and I know, through a thousand little things, how your loving and considerate heart will find pleasure and consolation in cheering your patient.

That for the future you must ever be so anxious is a dreadful trial, but it is to be hoped that Leo will yet outgrow this strange illness. I am sure good Archie[85] takes great care of him, and by this time he will have gathered plenty of experience to be a good nurse.

Baby is better, but her poor head and face are perfectly covered with spots, and she was in despair with the smarting and itching, and of course rubbed herself quite sore. Ella has it slightly since this morning.

Darmstadt, February 13th.

* * * First let me wish you joy for the birth of this new grandson,[86] born on your dear wedding-day. I thought of you on the morning of the 10th, and meant to telegraph, but those dreadful neuralgic pains came on before I had time to look about me, and really laid me prostrate for the whole day, as they lasted so very long. I have never felt so unwell, or suffered so much in my life, and this moment, sitting up in Louis’ room, I feel more weak than I have ever felt on first getting up after my confinements. Quinine has kept me free from pain to-day, and I hope will do so to-morrow. I have been in bed a week and touched absolutely nothing all the time. Yesterday evening, as throughout the day, I had had (but much more slightly) a return of these agonizing attacks, which seized my left eye, ear, and the whole left side of my head and nose. I got up and sat in Louis’ room; I could only bear it for two hours, and all but fainted before I reached my bed. If I can get strength, and have no return of pain, I hope to go out after to-morrow. I could not see the children or any one during this week, and always had my eyes closed, first from pain, and then from exhaustion when the pain left me. I really thought I should go out of my mind, and you know I can stand a tolerable amount of pain.

February 17th.

* * * I am so distressed that you remained so long without news. I was really for a whole week quite incapable of any idea about any thing, and had mostly my eyes shut, and was constantly alone, as I could not bear any one in the room.

General Plonsky, the Corps Commandant from Cassel, came here unexpectedly, and Louis, being under his command, was so taken up during those days, besides an immense deal of military business, that I never saw him more than a few minutes in the morning; and during his free time in the afternoon he sat, like the best nurse in the world, near my bed in the dark room, putting wet rags on my head and trying by every possible means to alleviate my pains. He was touching in the great care he took of me. Louis and Harriet did all for me, and I could bear no one else about me. You see, poor Louis had no time to write, and he always thought that I should be well the next day and write myself.

Darmstadt, February 24th.

To my and, I fear, dear Vicky’s great disappointment, Dr. Weber won’t let me go to Berlin, and wants me to go to Wiesbaden for a cold-water cure instead. The latter will be intensely dull, as I shall be there for four weeks all alone; but I believe it will be very beneficial, as with every year I seem to get more rheumatic, which at my age is of course not good.

We shall hope to be able to come to Windsor, middle of June, as you desire. The exact time you will kindly let us know later.

Darmstadt, March 9th.

* * * Louis left yesterday morning for Munich. It is a twelve hours’ journey. There is a procession on foot at the funeral, going to the church through the town, which will last about two hours, and then a very long ceremony in the large, cold Basilica.[87]

Darmstadt, March 14th.

I send you a few lines to-day for the 16th, the anniversary of the first great sorrow which broke in upon your happy life. How well do I recollect how I accompanied you and dear Papa down to Frogmore that night, our dinner in the flower room, the dreadful watching in the corridor, and then the so painful end! Darling Papa looked so pale, so deeply distressed, and was so full of tender sympathy for you. He told me to go to you and comfort you, and was so full of love and commiseration as I have never seen any man before or after. Dear, sweet Papa! that in that same year we should live together through such another heart-rending scene again, and he not there to comfort or support you, poor Mama!

It sometimes, even at this distance of time, seems nearly impossible that we should have lived through such times, and yet be alive and resigned.

God’s mercy is indeed great; for He sends a balm to soothe and heal the bruised and faithful heart, and to teach one to accommodate one’s self to one’s sorrow, so as to know how to bear it!

Darmstadt, April 2d.

* * * Louis is in a most unpleasant crisis with the Ministry and the Grand Duke. I don’t know how it will end.

Darmstadt, April 5th.

Only two words to-day, as my heart is so full of love and gratitude to you who took such care of me this day five years ago, who heard Victoria’s first cry, and were such a comfort and help to us both. All these recollections make Victoria doubly dear to us, and, as in this world one never knows what will happen, I hope that you will always watch over our dear child, and let her be as dear to you as though she had been one of us.

We have spent the day very sadly and quietly together. Louis’ affairs have taken such a turn that he has been obliged to tender the Grand Duke his resignation, as he does not consider it compatible with his honor to remain, under existing circumstances. He has made a great sacrifice to his duty and honor, but doing one’s duty brings the reward with it of a clear conscience.

April 3d.

* * * The King of Prussia has sent General von Bonin here to speak seriously with the Grand Duke, and prove to him through papers, etc., that he has not kept his word, and that he has been very badly advised, and that Louis was quite in the right. The result has been that the poor Grand Duke is scandalized at the state of affairs, and that he really seems to have been more in the dark than was supposed. He gives Louis the command again, sends away the whole Kriegsministerium [War Department], to be reorganized more simply, and with other people, according to Louis’ proposals; and so all military affairs will be in order, and Louis have much greater power to carry out all that has to be done.

We are so pleased at all having turned out thus far well, and know that you will share our feelings. Louis gets more work and a great responsibility; but he has proved himself so capable in every respect, so active and hard-working, that I think and trust he will overcome all difficulties.

I go alone to Gotha, and Louis will follow as soon as he can, so as to spend my birthday there.

I am so distressed at dear, good Sir James [Clark’s] illness. I hope and trust that this precious old friend will still be spared for a few years at least.

Gotha, April 25th.

* * * It is now eleven years since I spent my birthday with dear Vicky, and she has been so dear and kind, and dear Aunt and Uncle likewise. We spend the day quite quietly together, and the bad weather prevents any expeditions.

After to-morrow we go home.

Darmstadt, May 4th.

Accept my best thanks for your last letter written on dear Arthur’s birthday. The playing of the band I am sure gave him pleasure; but it would be too painful for all ever to have it again on the terrace as formerly. There are certain tunes which that Marine Band used to play, which, when I have chanced to hear them elsewhere, have quite upset me, so powerful does the recollection of those so very happy birthdays at Osborne remain upon me! Those happy, happy days touch me even to tears when I think of them. What a joyous childhood we had, and how greatly it was enhanced by dear, sweet Papa, and by all your great kindness to us!

I try to copy as much as lies in my power all these things for our children, that they may have an idea, when I speak to them of it, of what a happy home ours was.

I do feel so much for dear Beatrice and the other younger ones, who had so much less of it than we had!

Darmstadt, May 11th.

For your sake I am sorry that my condition should cause you anxiety, for you have enough of that, God knows. But I am so well this time that I hope and trust all may go well, though one is never sure. It is this conviction which I always have, and which makes me serious and thoughtful, as who can know whether with the termination of this time my life may not also terminate?

This is also one of the reasons why I long so very much to see you, my own precious Mama, this summer, for I cling to you with a love and gratitude, the depth of which I know I can never find words or means to express. After a year’s absence I wish so intensely to behold your dear, sweet, loving face again, and to press my lips on your dear hands. The older I grow the more I value and appreciate that mother’s love which is unique in the world; and having, since darling Papa’s death, only you, the love to my parents and to adored Papa’s memory is all centred in you.

Louis has leave from the 11th of June to the 11th of August.

Uncle Ernest is coming here to-day for the day, from Frankfort, where he has been to a cattle-show. Uncle Adalbert is here, so much pleased with having seen you again, singing the praise of both Lenchen and Louise, which of course I joined in, as it is such a pleasure to hear others admire and appreciate my dear sisters.

Darmstadt, May 14th.

I know you will be grieved to hear that we all have had the grief of losing good, excellent Jäger.[88] He was, on the whole, better and was out daily, and he went to bed as usual, when in the middle of the night he called one of the men, and before they could come to his assistance he expired, having broken a blood-vessel. Poor Katrinchen’s despair and grief were quite heart-rending, when we went together to see our true and valued servant for the last time. I was so upset by the whole, that it was some days before I got over it. We made wreaths to put on his coffin, which was covered with flowers sent from all sides, and we both were at the door with our servants when he was carried out, and tried to console the poor, unfortunate Braut [bride], who remained at home.

He was the best servant one could find; never, since he has been in our service, had he been found fault with by any one. He was good, pious, and gentle, and very intelligent. The death of a good man, who has fulfilled his allotted duty in this world as a good Christian ought, touches one deeply, and we have really mourned for him as for a friend, for he was one in the true sense of the word. Jäger rests alongside my poor Willem, in the pretty little cemetery here; a bit of my heart went with them.

Fritz, on his way back from Italy, spent a few hours with us, and told us much of his journey. He heard the strangest rumors of France intending to break out in sudden hostilities with Germany, and asked me what you thought of a probability of a war for this summer. I hope to God, that nothing horrid of that sort will happen! Do you think it likely, dear Mama?

Darmstadt, May 19th.

My own darling and most precious Mama, the warmest and tenderest wishes that grateful children can form for a beloved parent we both form for you, and these lines but weakly express all I would like to say. May God bless and watch over a life so precious and so dear to many! It is now six years since I spent that dear day near you, but I hope that some time or other we shall be allowed to do so. Our joint present is a medal for you with our heads. We had it made large in oxidized silver on purpose for you. I myself have braided and embroidered, with Christa’s help (who begged to be allowed to do something for you), a trimming for a dress, which I hope you will like and wear. It took a deal of my time, and my thoughts were so much with you while I was doing it, that I quite regretted its completion.

We are having a bracelet with our miniatures and the three children’s in it made for you, but unfortunately it is not finished, so we shall bring it and give it to you ourselves.

Darmstadt, May 29th.

* * * The intense heat remains the same, and becomes daily less endurable here in town—the result on my unfortunate person being a very painful rash which itches beyond all description. I hope it won’t increase.

How I envy you at Balmoral! the very thought of that air makes me better.

Osborne, August 6th.

I was just sitting down to write to you when Ernest came in with your dear letter. Thousand thanks for it! These parting lines will be such a clear companion to me on our journey. I can’t tell you how much I felt taking leave of you this time, dear Mama; it always is such a wrench to tear myself away from you and my home again. Where I have so, oh, so much to be thankful and grateful to you for, I always fear that I can never express my thanks as warmly as I feel them, which I do indeed from the bottom of my heart. God bless you, darling Mama, for all your love and kindness; and from the depth of my heart do I pray that nothing may cause you such anxiety and sorrow again as you have had to bear of late. * * *

When I left you at the pier the return to the empty house was so sad! It felt quite strange, and by no means pleasant, to be here without you and all the others. We lunched alone with Victoria, and dined in the hot dining-room with the ladies and gentlemen, sitting on the terrace afterward.

It has rained all the morning, and is most oppressive. As it is so foggy, we have to leave at two; but there is no wind, and I hope the sea will be quite smooth. I am sure you must feel lonely and depressed on this journey, poor Mama; but the change of scene and beautiful nature enjoyed in rest and quiet must surely do you good.

Kranichstein, August 10th.

* * * We left Osborne at two on Thursday in rain and wind. The children and I were dreadfully sick an hour after starting, but the passage got smoother later; and, though I was very wretched in every way, I was not sick again. The same sort of weather on the Alberta next morning, but it cleared up later. The Rhine steamer was very comfortable, and Doctor Minter accompanied us to Dordrecht. The last afternoon and night on board I suffered dreadfully. Since I arrived here, I am better, but not right yet. Had it not been for your great kindness in giving us the ship, I am sure I should not have got home right. This awful heat adds to my feelings of fatigue and discomfort.

Kranichstein, August 11th.

I have just received your letter, from Lucerne, and hasten to thank you for it.

How glad I am that you admire the beautiful scenery, and that I know it, and can share your admiration and enjoyment of it in thought with you! It is most lovely. The splendid forms, and the color of the lake, are two things that we don’t know in dear Scotland, and which are so peculiar to Swiss scenery.

Louis is in town from eight till our two o’clock dinner, and has a great deal to do.

For your sake as for my own I long for a respite from this unbearable heat, which is so weakening and trying.

Kranichstein, August 16th.

* * * How satisfactory the accounts of dear good Arthur are! From the depth of my heart do I congratulate you on all that Colonel Elphinstone says about his character, for with a real moral foundation, and a strict sense of duty and of what is right and wrong, he will have a power to combat the temptations of the world and those within himself. I am sure that he will grow up to be a pride and pleasure to you, and an honor to his country.

Brown must have been glad to be allowed to continue wearing his kilt, and, as it is a national dress, it is far more natural that he should give it up nowhere. I am sure that he and Annie[89] must admire the place.

Kranichstein, August 26th.

I have just received your dear letter, and am so pleased to hear that you enjoyed your excursion, and that you have now seen the sort of wild scenery high up in the mountains, which I think so beautiful and grand in Switzerland. For all admirers of that style of scenery there is nothing to be compared to Switzerland.

Since it became cool again I have had neuralgia in my head, and I have had a dreadful sty, which had to be cut open, and made me quite faint and sick for the whole day. In spite of it I went to the station here, with a thick veil on, to see the Russian relations pass two days ago. The Emperor looks even more altered and worn since last year, and is suddenly grown so old.

Kranichstein, September 4th.

* * * How too delightful your expeditions must have been! I do rejoice that, through the change of weather, you should have been able to see and enjoy all that glorious scenery. Without your good ponies and Brown, etc., you would have felt how difficult such ascents are for common mortals, particularly when the horses slip, and finally sit down. I am sure all this will have done you good; seeing such totally new beautiful scenery does refresh so immensely, and the air and exertion—both of which you seem to bear so well now—will do your health good.

Yesterday we both were two hours at Jugenheim. To-day the two little cousins are coming to see my children.

Louis’ business is increasing daily, and until the 19th, manœuvres, inspections, etc., won’t be over. He will even have to be away on his birthday, which is a great bore. There is a great review for the Emperor on Saturday.

September 15th.

* * * Like a foolish frightened creature as I am, I have worried myself so much about this sudden talk of war and threatening in all the French papers, saying that October, November, or thereabouts would be a good time to begin. Do tell me, if you think there is the least reasonable apprehension for any thing of that sort this year. I have such confidence in your opinion, and you can imagine how in my present condition I must tremble before a recurrence of all I went through in 1866!

I am so grieved that you should be so unwell on the journey home. Dear beautiful Scotland will do you good. I envy your going there, and wish I could be with you, for I am so fond of it. Remember me to all the good people.

Darmstadt, October 28th.

* * * The Queen of Prussia is coming to lunch with us on Saturday on her way to Coblenz.

I have a cold these last days, and Victoria is still confined to the house with her swelled neck. She had quite lost her appetite, and I tried some porridge for her, which she enjoys, and I hope it will fatten her up a little, for she is so thin and pale. Would you please order a small barrel of oatmeal to be sent to me? Dr. Weber thinks it would be very good for Victoria, and one cannot get it here.

Darmstadt, November 20th.

It is with the greatest interest that I read about the Mausoleum,[90] as I was very anxious to know whether all would be finished. Having been present before at all the important steps in the progress of this undertaking, I feel very sorry to be absent at the last, and I shall be very impatient to see it all again.

Winter has quite set in now here, and when there is no wind the cold is very pleasant.

Darmstadt, December 4th.

Thousand thanks for all your dear kind wishes, for your first letter to me, for the one to Louis, and finally for the eatables! I can’t tell you how touched, how pleased we both are at the kind interest all at home have shown us on this occasion. It has really enhanced our pleasure at the birth of our little son, to receive so many marks of sympathy and attachment from those in my dear native home, and in my present one. My heart is indeed overflowing with gratitude for all God’s blessings.

The time itself was very severe, but my recovery is up to now the best I have ever made, and I feel comparatively strong and well.

The girls are delighted with their brother, though Victoria was sorry it was not a sister. Darling Louis was too overcome and taken up with me at first to be half pleased enough. Baby is to be called by Louis’ Uncle Louis’ wish, Ernst Ludwig, after a former Landgrave;[91] then we would like you to give the name Albert; Charles, after my father-in-law; and William, after the King of Prussia, whom we mean to ask to be godfather. The christening is most likely to be on the 28th, or thereabout.

I am on my sofa in my sitting-room with all your dear photos, etc., around me, and your pretty quilt over me.

December 12th.

* * * Every new event in my life renews the grief for dear Papa’s loss, and the deep regret that he was not here to know of all, to ask advice from, to share joy and grief with, for he was such a tender father, and would have been such a loving grandfather.

You, darling Mama, fill his place with your own, and may God’s support never leave you, and ever enable you to continue fulfilling the many duties toward State and family! The love of your children and people encircles you.

Darmstadt, December 18th.

* * * The presents you intend giving baby will delight us, and in later years I can tell him all about his Grandpapa, and how I wish and pray he may turn out in any way like him, and try and aim to become so.

I think it would be best, perhaps, if you asked my mother-in-law to represent you and hold baby. I think it would pain her, should any one else do it, and I will ask her in your name, if you will kindly telegraph me your approval.

I am sorry Arthur cannot come, it would have given us such pleasure had it been possible.

The greater part of baby’s monthly gowns have been put away, as from the beginning they were too small. He is so very big.

Christmas Day.

* * * Louis thanks you thousand times, as we do, for the charming presents for the children. They showed them to every one, shouting: “This is from my dear English Grandmama”; and Ella, who is always sentimental, added: “She is so very good, my Grandmama.” Irene could not be parted from the doll you gave her, nor Victoria from hers. Baby was brought down, and was wide awake the whole time, looking about with his little bright eyes like a much older child.

We spent a very happy Christmas eve, surrounded by the dear children and our kind relations.

Darmstadt, December 29th.

* * * Prince Hohenzollern with three gentlemen were sent by the King, and the former dined with us after the ceremony. All went off so well, and baby, who is in every way like a child of two months, looked about him quite wisely, and was much admired by all who saw him.

I am so sorry that you have never seen my babies since Victoria, for I know you would admire them, they look so mottled and healthy. Weather permitting, baby is to be photographed to-morrow.

1869.

The winter passed quickly and quietly amidst many occupations.

In May the Prince and Princess, with their children, went on a visit to the Crown Prince and Princess of Prussia at Potsdam, where they spent four happy weeks. Whilst they were there, the Viceroy of Egypt paid a visit to Berlin. Later in the summer they went to Silesia, and spent some time at Fischbach, a property belonging to Princess Charles of Hesse, whose sister, the Queen of Bavaria, and brother, Prince Adalbert of Prussia, joined them there. During their stay, the Prince and Princess made excursions into the neighboring mountains, and ascended the Schneekoppe; and the Prince and his brothers visited the battlefield of Königsgrätz. On the way back to Darmstadt they visited Dresden, to see the King and Queen of Saxony at their country seat, Pillnitz, an hour’s drive from Dresden.

In August, the King of Prussia for the first time personally inspected the Hessian troops. The Prince commanded the troops at the manœuvres in Upper Hesse, at the conclusion of which they paraded before the King of Prussia at Bergen.

Some weeks later, the Prince and Princess of Wales and their family paid Prince and Princess Louis a visit at Kranichstein. The opening of the Idiot Asylum built by the Princess took place on the 15th of October in her presence and that of the Prince. It had been arranged that Prince Louis should accompany the Crown Prince of Prussia on his journey to the East, on the occasion of the opening of the Suez Canal. He started on the 9th of October for Venice. The two Princes visited Corfu, Athens, and Constantinople, and were received with every possible honor in the capitals of Greece and Turkey. They went on to Jaffa, and thence to Jerusalem, Hebron, Damascus, and Baalbec, and finally, on the 15th of November, they arrived at Port Said, where they met a large number of other Princes. A journey up the Nile as far as the first and second cataracts brought their travels to an end. They returned home by way of Naples, and through Italy.

During the absence of the two Princes, the Crown Princess of Prussia and Princess Alice, with her little son, went to Cannes. Whilst there, the Princess devoted herself entirely to the care of her child. Being together with her sister, and in that sunny country, made up somewhat for the long separation from her husband. The Princes joined the two Princesses at Cannes shortly before Christmas. The new year saw them all at home again.

Darmstadt, January 8th.

* * * Dear charming Lady Frances [Baillie] is on a visit with us, and I enjoy having her so much. We talk of old times at Frogmore, and so many pleasant recollections.

I am glad that you like baby’s photograph, though it does not do him justice. He is a pretty baby on the whole, and has a beautiful skin, very large eyes, and pretty mouth and chin; but his nose is not very pretty, as it is so short at present. He is a dear good child, and, though immensely lively, does not give much trouble. He is a great source of happiness to us, and I trust will continue so.

Darmstadt, January 13th.

* * * Is not the death of Leopold’s son shocking?[92] Such suffering, such a struggle for months between life and death; and for the poor parents to have in the end to relinquish their child, their only son! I think it heart-rending. May the Almighty continue to support them even now, as he did these many months! I cannot say how much and truly I feel for them both. This world is full of trials, and some seem to be called upon to suffer and give up so much. Faith and resignation alone can save those hearts from breaking, when the burden must be so heavy.

A few days ago at two o’clock we had another shock [of earthquake], and it seemed as if the house rocked; at the same time the unearthly noise. I think it uncommonly unpleasant, particularly this repetition.

January 30th.

Our thoughts and prayers are so much with you and dear Leopold on this day [his Confirmation]. May the Almighty bless and protect that precious boy, and give him health and strength to continue a life so well begun and so full of promise!

It seems to me quite incredible, the eighth of us should already be old enough to take this step in life, and to have his childhood in fact behind him. Dear Papa’s blessing surely rests on him, and his spirit is near you as you stand there alone by the side of his child, about whom he always was so anxious.

February 5th.

* * * Beloved Papa’s cast arrived a few days ago, and stands in my bedroom. I think it very beautiful, and thank you so warmly for having sent it me.

Poor Orchard, whose leg is very painful and swelled, is to go to bed for a week for entire rest of the limb. You can imagine how inconvenient this is, as we have only Emma and Kathrinchen for the others and baby. You will be amused when I tell you that old Amelung is coming to sleep with baby, and take charge of him; but she is too old and out of practice to be able to wash and dress him morning and evening besides, so I do that, and it is of course a great assistance to all, my being able to do it, and I don’t mind the trouble. Of a morning, as Louis is usually out riding or at his office, I take Victoria and Ella out, who are very good little girls and very amusing.

Darmstadt, March 8th.

* * * We shall go to Potsdam the first week in May, and from there go for a week or ten days to Fischbach. My mother-in-law, Tante Mariechen, and Uncle Adalbert, are all going to spend my mother-in-law’s birthday there.

The Moriers are going to England in the first days of April, and I hope that you will see them. We see a good deal of them, and like them both much. He is wonderfully clever and learned, and takes interest in every thing; and she is very agreeable, and a most satisfied, amiable disposition—always contented and amused.

March 19th

I thought of you so much on the 16th. From that day dated the commencement of so much grief and sorrow; yet in those days you had one, darling Mama, whose first thought and deepest was to comfort and help you, and I saw and understood only then how he watched over you, and how and everywhere he sought to ward off all that was painful and strange from you, and took all that pain alone for himself for your sake! I see his dear face—so pale, and so full of tears, when he led me to you early that morning after all was over and said, “Comfort Mama,” as if those words were a Vorbedeutung [presage] of what was to come. In those days I think he knew how deep my love was for you, and that as long as I was left in my home, my first and only thought should be you and you alone! This I held as my holiest and dearest duty, until I had to leave you, my beloved Mother, to form a home and family for myself, and new ties which were to take up much of my heart and strength.

But that bond of love, though I can no more be near you, is as strong as ever.

Darmstadt, March 23d.

* * * Yesterday it was very warm, and to-day it snows; the weather continues so changeable and many people are ill. Ella has again had one of her bad attacks in her throat, but, thank God, it passed away very soon. Two nights ago she could not speak—barely breathe—and was so uncomfortable, poor child. It makes one so anxious each time; but I hope she will outgrow it, when she is six or seven years old.

Victoria is already now composing a letter for your birthday. I won’t have her helped, because I should like you to see her own ideas and style—it is much more amusing.

March 26th.

* * * We had such an unexpected pleasure the other day in the visit of good General Seymour, and I was so pleased to see some one who had seen you lately, and who could give me news of my home. He had not been here since he came with us after our marriage, and was of course interested in seeing every thing.

April 2d.

* * * The constant anxiety about the children is dreadful; and it is not physical ill one dreads for them, it is moral: the responsibility for these little lent souls is great, and, indeed, none can take it lightly who feel how great and important a parent’s duty is.

Darmstadt, April 5th.

* * * Thousand thanks for your dear letter, and for all the tender wishes for our dear child’s birthday! The child born under your roof and your care is of course your particular one, and later, if you wish to keep her at any time when we have been paying you a visit, we shall gladly leave her.

Victoria is so delighted with what you sent her, and sends her very warmest thanks and her tenderest love. She is in great beauty just at present, as she is grown stouter; and I look with pleasure on those two girls when they go out together. They possess, indeed, all we could wish, and are full of promise. May the Almighty protect them and give them a long life, to be of use and a joy to their fellow-creatures!

April 16th.

* * * Rain and wind have at length cooled the air, for this heat without any shade was too unpleasant. Louis left at five this morning to inspect the garrison at Friedberg and Giessen, and then to go to Alsfeld to shoot Auerhähne [capercailzies]. He will return on the 21st or 22d probably.

We shall indeed be so pleased, if later you wish to have any of the granddaughters with you, to comply with any such wish, for I often think so sadly for your dear sake, how lonely it must be when one child after another grows up and leaves home; and even if they remain, to have no children in the house is most dreary. Surely you can never lack to have some from amongst the many grandchildren; and there are none of us, who would not gladly have our children live under the same roof where we passed such a happy childhood, with such a loving Grandmama to take care of them.

April 25th.

* * * May I only know the way to give my children as much pleasure and happiness as you have ever known to give me!

The dinner of family and suite is here in the house to-day—or rather I should call it a luncheon, as it is at two o’clock.

The Irish Church question, I quite feel with you, will neither be solved nor settled in this way; and instead of doing something which would bring the Catholics more under the authority of the State, they will, I fear, be the more powerful. It seems to me that one injustice (with regard to the Protestants) is to be put in the place of a former one, instead of doing justice to both, which would not have been an impossibility through some well-considered settlement and giving in on both sides. Such a changement requires so much thought and wisdom, and, above all, impartiality.

May 3d.

* * * My children are, on the whole, very well behaved and obedient, and, save by fits and starts, which don’t last long, very manageable. I try to be very just and consistent in all things toward them, but it is sometimes a great trial of patience, I own. They are so forward, clever, and spirited, that the least spoiling would do them great harm.

How glad I am that the dear Countess [Blücher] is with you again; she is the pleasantest companion possible, and so dear and loving, and she is devoted to you and dear Papa’s memory as never any one was.

Potsdam, May 25th.

How much we thought of you yesterday, I can’t say! Lord Augustus Loftus lunched with us three and the elder children; and we drank your health, the band playing “God Save the Queen!” All our girls had wreaths of natural flowers in honor of the day.

Potsdam, June 1st.

* * * To-day is regular March weather, and the palace is cold and draughty.

We were in Berlin yesterday, to visit the Gewerbe-Museum [Industrial Museum]; then luncheon at Lord Augustus Loftus’, and from thence to the Victoria bazaar and Victoria Stift, and then home.

It is always so tiring to see things at Berlin; an hour’s rail there and the same back takes so much time. Before returning, we paid a short visit to Baron Stockmar and his wife, who is very pleasing, and seems to suit him perfectly. They look as if they had always belonged to each other.

Potsdam, June 13th.

Our time here is soon drawing to a close, much to my regret; for the life with dear Vicky—so quiet and pleasant—reminds me in many things of our life in England in former happy days, and so much that we had Vicky has copied for her children. Yet we both always say to each other, no children were so happy, and so spoiled with all the enjoyments and comforts children can wish for, as we were; and that we can never (of course, still less I) give our children all that we had. I am sure dear Papa and you, if you could ever hear how often, how tenderly, Vicky and I talk of our most beloved parents, and how grateful we are for what they did for us, would in some measure feel repaid for all the trouble we gave, and all the anxiety we caused. I ever look back to my childhood and girlhood as the happiest time of my life. The responsibilities, and often the want of many a thing, in married life can never give unalloyed happiness.

We are looking for a governess for the two elder girls for next year, and a lady with the necessary knowledge and character, and yet of a certain rank, is so difficult to find.

Potsdam, June 19th.

Louis went two days ago to Fischbach for his mother’s birthday, and returns to-morrow morning. Vicky was very low yesterday; she has been so for the last week, and she told me much of what an awful time she went through in 1866, when dear Siggie [Sigismund] died. The little chapel is very peaceful and cheerful, and full of flowers. We go there en passant nearly daily, and it seems to give dear Vicky pleasure to go there.

Vicky goes on the 7th of July to Norderney.

Fischbach Schlesien, July 2d.

We arrived here in this exquisitely-lovely country two days ago, and were received by our parents-in-law and Aunt Mariechen, whose guests we are in the pretty old Castle of Fischbach, surrounded by fine old trees, with a view on the beautiful Riesengebirge, which reminds me a little of Scotland, and also of Switzerland. The valleys are most lovely and the numberless wooded hills, before one reaches the high mountains, are quite beautiful. The trees are splendid and the country looks very rich and green.

All the people of the village and the neighborhood came out to see us and our children, and old servants of Louis’ grandparents, who were so delighted and pleased that I and my children should be here, and that they should have lived to see the younger generation.

We are out seeing the beautiful spots nearly all day long. The weather is fine and not very warm, so that one can go about comfortably. Yesterday we went over for tea to Erdmannsdorf. If only dear Vicky and Fritz were there now! We must hope for another year to be there together. The parting from them, who had made our séjour under their hospitable roof such a very happy one, was very sad, and the pouring rain was in accordance with our feelings. We left them and dear lovely Potsdam and the pleasant life there with much regret, and many a blessing do I send back in thought to its dear inmates.

Yesterday afternoon we were at Schmiedeberg. We went to see a very interesting carpet-manufactory, worked by hand, and all by girls, and a very simple process, much like making fringe, which you used to do and then make footstools of after Beatrice’s birth.

Yesterday our wedding-day—already seven years ago—made me think so much of Osborne, and of you, darling Mama, and of all that passed during that time. It was a quiet wedding in a time of much sorrow, and I often think how trying it must have been for you.

Kranichstein, July 21st.

Yesterday after eighteen hours’ very hot railway journey, we arrived here all well. Many thanks for your letter, which I received at Dresden. It was impossible to write, as I had to pay visits and to see things during those two days.

The Crown Prince and Princess received us at the station; the following day we paid our visits. I found Marie[93] in bed looking very well, and her baby, tied up in a cushion, seemed a nice child. Her other children are very pretty; the eldest girl is like George, and the little one has a quantity of fair curls, like Louis of Portugal’s boy. In the afternoon of that day the King and Queen came to see us, and were very kind. She is very like the Queen Dowager of Prussia, her twin sister, and her other sister, Queen Marie, is very like her twin sister, Archduchess Sophie. As they are first cousins, and very fond ones, of my father-in-law, they consider themselves of course as our aunts.

I went to see the picture-gallery, which has some exquisite pictures, though the Sistine Madonna surpasses all others, and the famous Holbein, of which the Dresden gallery has been for long so proud, is now recognized as a copy, and the one that belongs to my mother-in-law as the original. We visited the Grüne Gewöbel [the Green Vaults], where the magnificent jewels and other treasures are preserved, and the King was kind enough to lead us over the rest of the castle himself, including his own rooms, in one of which the life-size pictures of his last four daughters (all dead) stand, of whom he cannot speak without tears. How dreadfully he and the poor Queen must have suffered these last years!

Uncle Louis is at Friedberg and intends remaining there all next month, till the manœuvres are over. Alice Morier will accompany me.

Kranichstein, July 25th.

Thousand thanks for your kind letter which I received yesterday, at the same time that the beautiful christening present for Ernest arrived! Thousand thanks for this most beautiful and precious gift for our boy, from Louis and from myself! We are so pleased with it! It is to be exhibited here, and it will interest and delight all who see it, I am sure.

I have just received a letter from Bertie, announcing his arrival here for the 28th. We shall be greatly pleased to see them all; but we have so little room, and our house in town is all shut up and under repair, so that we shall have some trouble to make them comfortable and shall be quite unable to do it as we should wish. But I trust they will be lenient and put up with what we can offer.

The heat is very great, though this place is comparatively cool.

Kranichstein, July 29th.

Dear Bertie and Alix with their children arrived at Darmstadt after ten, and we brought them here by eleven o’clock last night. They are all looking well, but Bertie has shaved off his beard, which does not suit him. Dear Alix is unchanged, and certainly no fatter.

The children are very dear and pretty, but my boy is as tall as little Louise, and of course much bigger. I am so delighted to see them all again; it is such a great pleasure, as you can well imagine.

The pony you kindly sent us has just arrived, and to the great delight of all the children, who send their best thanks. We are all lodged very close together: Bertie and Alix, our bedroom and my dressing-room; we both, my sitting-room, and the passage-room; then come the different children. No gentlemen or ladies are in the house, as it was utterly impossible.

Kranichstein, August 11th.

* * * Victoria has often ridden on Dred, and also the other girls, on a Spanish saddle, and he goes very well. They delight in him. Baby rolls about the room anywhere now, and tries to crawl properly. He calls Papa, and tries no end of things; he is very forward, and is now cutting his fifth tooth, which is all but through.

Friedberg, August 26th.

On this dear day I must send you a few words. The weather is so beautiful, and the sun so bright, as it used to be at Osborne in former years. I don’t care for the sun to shine on this day now, as it can’t shine on Him whose day it was. It makes one too wehmüthig to think of darling Papa on those happy birthdays, and it must be more so for you than for any of us, poor Mama.

Yesterday was Ludwigstag; all the town decorated with flags, illuminations, etc., and English flags and arms with the Hessian everywhere.

We started on horseback along the high road at half-past seven this morning, and did not get off till one. A lovely country and very interesting to see. To-morrow we shall have a very long march, and the night Alice Morier, I and William (Louis is undecided) will spend at Prince Ysenburg’s at Büdingen. The next morning we have to ride off at half-past five, and a long day back here.

Kranichstein, September 11th.

* * * What charming expeditions you must have made in that lovely country?[94] What I saw of it some years ago I admired so intensely. You can well be proud of all the beauties of the Highlands, which have so entirely their own stamp, that no Alpine scenery, however grand, can lessen one’s appreciation for that of Scotland.

The day before yesterday we went to Mayence to see a “Gewerbe-Ausstellung” [Industrial Exhibition] of the town, which was very good and tastefully arranged. From there we went to Frankfort to our palace, for a rendezvous with Aunt Cambridge, Uncle George, Augusta and Fritz Strelitz. I showed them the children, and afterwards, when our relations left, we took our children to the Zoölogical Garden, which delighted them.

Many thanks for the grouse, which has just arrived, the first since two years ago!

Darmstadt, October 3d.

* * * I am very glad that you also approve of Louis’ journey, which I know will be so useful and interesting for him, though it was not possible to attain this without parting from each other, which is, of course, no small trial for us, who are so unaccustomed to being separated. But we never thought of that when we considered the plan of Louis joining Fritz, which was my idea, as travelling in new countries is so good for a man, and Louis may never find so good a chance again. I am looking forward very much to seeing Geneva—where we spend a day—and the south of France, and above all, seeing the sea again. Fritz passes through here to-morrow. Louis starts Saturday morning, viâ Munich, for Venice, where he will join Fritz next Sunday afternoon, and spend the following Monday there before they go to Brindisi. Vicky comes here with her children on the 12th or 13th, and a suite of twenty-five people. She goes on with the big boys to Baden, and I follow with the other children on the following day. I don’t like separating Victoria and Ella, who like being together; the three girls will be so well taken care of at their grandparents’. I have written down rules for meals, going out, to bed, to lessons, etc.; and my mother-in-law, who never interferes, will see that all is carried out as I wish. I shall miss them so much, but having one child at least is a comfort; and baby is beginning to talk, and is so funny and dear, and so fond of me that he will be company to me when I am alone. I take no one but Orchard, Eliza, Beck, and my Haushofmeister [Steward], who used to be with Lord Granville.

Darmstadt, October 11th.

Yesterday morning at eleven we had the hard separation from each other, which we both felt very much. My own dear, tender-hearted Louis was quite in the state he was in when we parted at Windsor in 1860 after our engagement. He does not like leaving his children, his home, and me, and really there are but few such husbands and fathers as he. To possess a heart like his, and to call it my own, I am ever prouder of and more grateful for from year to year. Nowadays young men like Louis are rare enough, for it is considered fine to neglect one’s wife, and for the wife also to have amusements in which her husband does not share. We sisters are singularly blessed in our husbands.

Dear kind Countess Blücher has been here the last two days—such a happiness to me just now, for the house feels far too lonely.

Grand Hôtel, Cannes, November 5th.

* * * I have this instant received another letter from dear Louis from Constantinople, giving the accounts of what they did and saw there until the 29th ult., when they left for Jaffa. He seems delighted, and very greatly interested with all he has seen. Louis thought so much of the Sultan’s English visit in 1867, on seeing him again. He found him more talkative than then. He saw also several of the suite who were in England. They went to Scutari, into the Black Sea, and visited all in and near Constantinople, and on the last day they visited the Emperor of Austria, who had just arrived. There is something very funny in hearing of these Royalties, one after another, all running to the same places. They must bore the Sultan considerably.

This journey will be of great advantage to dear Louis, who has never had an opportunity (through marrying so young) of travelling like others.

This afternoon we went to see poor Princess Waldeck. She is still in great grief at the loss of her eldest daughter, who suffered so long, and knew she was dying, and bore her lot with such resignation and such goodness. She was only fifteen and a half, I think.

I was very much pleased to see Lord and Lady Russell again the other day. We hope to be able to pay them a visit at San Remo, though one can’t go and return in the same day.

The country has looked too lovely to-day; the sunset is always most beautiful, for it sets behind the Esterel Mountains, which lie to the right from this bay, and have a very lovely jagged form.

I am reading to Vicky a new Life of Napoleon, by Lanfrey, which is very well and impartially written.

Cannes, December 14th.

* * * The heavenly blue sea, stretching so far and wide, is in accordance with one’s feelings, and the beauties of nature have always something comforting and soothing. * * *

The Duke of Argyll’s sister, with his pretty daughter, Victoria, are here, and we have been twice to see them, and are distressed that they should be so anxious about the dear Duchess, of whom the news to-day is worse. How dreadful, should any thing happen to her, for her husband and for the many children!

The Eburys and Lord Dalhousie have likewise arrived here, but we have not seen them yet.

To-morrow we had intended leaving this, but during the night poor Vicky had the dreadful fright of Waldie’s being taken ill with the croup. Thank God, he is better this morning, but our journey will have to be put off for a few days, so that Vicky cannot now reach Berlin in time for Christmas. As we don’t wish to spend that day en route, we have telegraphed to our husbands, who reach Naples to-day, to ask whether they will not join us here, that we may all spend Christmas together before leaving.

This is all unsettled, and I will telegraph as soon as every thing is definitely arranged. Rollet[95] is here to-day, and spends this day in quiet with us.

Cannes, December 20th.

We both had the happiness yesterday of receiving our dear husbands safe and well here after so long a separation. They had been to Naples and Pompeii, and Louis went for a day to Rome, so that he has seen an enormous deal, which is very instructive for him, and will be such a pleasure for him to look back upon in later years.

I am so glad that Louis has had the opportunity of making this journey; and it seems to have done his health good also, for he looks very well.

The journey back is so long and difficult for me to manage alone with Louis—as Vicky’s people, particularly in the nursery, have helped mine—that I am obliged to wait until the 26th, and to go with Vicky and Fritz, for they travel slower than I would do if I went with Louis, who goes back direct day and night. The doctor would not consent to my travelling with Ernie from this warm climate into the great cold so fast, and during the night, for he is cutting four back teeth at this moment.