Part 19

* * * Last night I was much overcome. I had been sitting at the bedside of one of my poor young friends, and he was gasping in a too-distressing way. The father held his hand, the tears streaming down his cheek, the son was trying to say “_Weine nicht, Papa_” [“Don’t weep, Papa!”]. The poor old father, so proud of his good and handsome child, is heart-broken, and they are touchingly united and full of feeling for each other. I would give any thing to save his life; but all efforts will, I fear, be in vain. Though I have seen so many lately die hard deaths, and heard and seen the grief of many heart-broken widows and mothers, it makes my heart bleed anew in each fresh case, and curse the wickedness of war again and again.

Poor baby can’t be christened yet, as my parents-in-law think Louis would not like it during his absence, so I shall wait. * * *

November 17th.

* * * How I rejoice to hear that Leopold gains so much strength, and that he can be about again as usual. Will you kindly tell him in Louis’ name and mine (as I am still restricted in all writing and reading) that we beg him to stand godfather to our little son?[99] Baby is so nice and fat now, and thrives very well. I think you would admire him, his features are so pretty, and he is so pink, and looks so wide-awake and intelligent. Ernie, who in general is a rough boy, is most tender and gentle to his little brother, and not jealous. * * *

BERLIN, December 5th.

* * * Yesterday Fieldmarshal Wrangel came to see me, and his words were, “_Zu gratuliren dass Ihr Mann ein Held ist, und sich so superb geschlagen hat_” [“Accept my congratulations that your husband is a hero, and has fought so magnificently”]. I am very proud of all this, but I am too much a woman not to long above all things to have him safe home again.

* * * The evenings Vicky and I spend alone together, talking, or writing our letters. There is so much to speak of and think about, of the present and the future, that it is to me a great comfort to be with dear Vicky. It is nearly five months since Louis left, and we lead such single existences that a sister is inexpressibly dear when all closer intercourse is so wanting! There is so much, beloved Mama, I should like to speak to you about. * * *

The girls are quite well, and very happy with their grandparents. The governess--who in the end did not suit for the children--as the six months’ trial is over, will not remain, and I am looking for another one.

DARMSTADT, December 18th.

* * * The children and I bore the journey well, and it was not cold. Parting from dear Vicky was a hard moment, and I shall feel the loneliness here so much, and miss my dear good Louis more than ever. The children are, of course, at such a time the greatest blessing. There is so much to do for them, and to look after for them; and mine are dear good children, and do not give over-much trouble.

Letters I have again received speak of the amount of danger Louis has again been daily exposed to, and how his personal courage and daring have given the victory in many a fight. God protect him! I live in fear and trembling for his precious life, and after I hear of his being safe through one battle, I take it as a fresh present from the Almighty, and breathe freer again, though the fear soon enough gets the upper hand again.

I have asked Uncle Louis to allow his _Berichte_ [reports] to be copied for you. Louis has Köhler and another footman with him, that is all--and two coachmen. He rides in all battles the horse you gave him in 1866, which he rode during that campaign, and which is quite invaluable. It would interest Colonel Maude to know this, as he bought the horse. My nursery is in very good order, and they are all invaluable in their way.

How is good Dr. Hoffmeister’s family? Please say many kind things to him from me, and tell him that the baby is getting so nice and fat, and is so healthy in spite of all troubles. Here is a photograph of him, but not at all flattered. Please give Dr. Hofmeister one of them!

I have this instant received a letter from Louis dated the 11th! I will have an extract made for you, I think it might interest Bertie to hear something of Louis, whom he can be proud to have as a brother-in-law, for I hear his praises continually. He has been throughout the war, as every other General has been, without a carriage, etc., like other Princes, and has gained the respect and devotion of his troops.

DARMSTADT, December 19th.

* * * I hope for this last time, if we are spared and live to come over together once more, we may have the joy of showing their dear Grandmama the whole little band. Of course, no thoughts of plans can be entertained, and I know, after so very long a separation, Louis would not be willing again to part from his children.

My wounded were so pleased to see me again yesterday. Alas! many in bed, and so ill still! My two in the house are much better, and the one who during six weeks lay at death’s door is recovering. I have seldom experienced so great a satisfaction as seeing this young man recover, and the doctors say I have been the means of saving his life.

The joy of the old parents will be very great. Since I left, there are new widows, and fresh parents bereft of only children; it is a most painful duty to go to them. But I know the comfort of sympathy is the only one in deep grief.

December 23d.

My warmest and tenderest thanks for your dear and loving letter, with so many expressions of a mother’s love and sympathy, which do my heart good, now that I feel so lonely and anxious. It seems too great a happiness to think of, that of our being allowed to come with our children to you, and to Scotland; and you know the smallest corner is enough for us, who are by no means

## particular--neither are our people. If I write this to Louis, it

will be something for him to look forward to, to cheer him and reward him after so hard a time, which he bears so bravely and uncomplainingly. This morning I have been at the Alice Hospital, which is prospering. I have been taking my gifts for Christmas to one hospital after another. Your two capes have delighted the poor sufferers, and the one wounded for the second time is very bad, alas! My wounded officer in the house is recovering, next to a miracle. For the two wounded in the house, the children, our household, and the children of our servants at the war, I arrange Christmas-trees.

We grown-up ones of the family have given up keeping Christmas for ourselves. We have too much to do for others, and my parents-in-law, like me, feel the absence of the dear ones who are always here for Christmas.

I am superintending Victoria and Ella’s letters to you, which have not achieved the perfection wished for. As they are to be quite their own, I hope you will excuse their arriving a little later.

DARMSTADT, December 27th.

* * * Louis telegraphed on Christmas day from Orleans, where I had sent Christa’s brother with a box of eatables and woollen things for his people, and a tiny Christmas-tree with little lights for the whole party. Louis has sent me a photograph of himself and staff done at Orleans, and I have sent for a copy for you, as it is very good. On Christmas day it was five months since Louis and the troops left. The charming stockings you sent, I have sent off in part to-day to Louis to give to his _Stabswache_ [Staff-guard]; the other things I divide among the wounded and sick.

My children are all well. The little one sits up, and, though not very fat, is round and firm, with rosy cheeks and the brightest eyes possible. He is very healthy and strong, and in fact the prettiest of all my babies. The three girls are so grown,

## particularly the two eldest, you would scarcely know them. They are

both very tall for their age. Victoria is the height of Vicky’s Charlotte, and Ella not much less. They are thin, and a change of air would be very beneficial.

1871.

The christening of the little Prince took place quietly on the 11th of February, the child receiving the names of Frederick William. The sponsors were the Empress of Germany, the Crown Princess, Crown Prince, Prince Frederick Charles of Prussia, and Princess Alice’s own brother, Prince Leopold. The ceremony took place in the absence of Prince Louis, who had been unable to get leave, although an armistice had been concluded on the 28th of January, which it was hoped would be the forerunner of peace.

On the 18th of March the King of Prussia, who had meanwhile become Emperor of Germany, made his entry into Frankfort-on-the-Main, together with his son and his whole staff. The Grand Duke of Hesse and the members of his family received him there.

Prince Louis at last obtained ten days’ leave of absence, and arrived at Darmstadt on the 21st of March. The parents of the Prince had gone to meet him and his brother William a few stations beyond Darmstadt, whilst the Princess Alice awaited her husband at the Darmstadt railway station. The joy and thankfulness of that meeting can well be imagined. Darmstadt was gaily decorated in honor of the Prince’s return; and he met with an enthusiastic reception.

Prince and Princess Louis were present at Berlin on the 16th of June at the triumphal entry of the German troops on the conclusion of the peace. On the 21st of June the Prince entered Darmstadt at the head of his Hessian division. In spite of pouring rain, the town presented a most festive appearance. Later on the Prince and Princess and their children went to Seeheim (near Darmstadt), where her brother, Prince Alfred, visited them on his return from his three years’ voyage round the world. The Prince and Princess of Wales also paid their sister a visit; and Prince and Princess Louis saw much of their Russian relations, who were then staying at Jugenheim.

In August, the family went to the seaside at Blankenberghe, where they spent three weeks, and afterward went to London. They arrived at Balmoral on the 13th of September, on a visit to the Queen, whom they found suffering severely. They stayed with her till the 1st of November, but the children, who had caught the whooping cough, were sent to London sooner. Whilst at Sandringham, to which the Prince and Princess went on their way back from Balmoral, in the middle of November, the Prince of Wales was taken ill. Prince Louis had to return to Darmstadt, but the Princess remained in England, and shared the anxieties of the very dangerous and protracted illness of her brother, whom she helped to nurse. It was the same terrible fever (typhoid) which, ten years before, had ended the life of the beloved Prince Consort, and it was so severe that the worst was feared. Prince Louis returned to England on the very day when the danger was greatest, but he also was able to share in the joy and thankfulness when improvement set in upon the 14th of December. He remained over Christmas, and returned to Darmstadt before the year was at an end.

DARMSTADT, January 7th.

* * * In England people are, I fear, becoming unjust toward the German troops. Such a long and bloody war must demoralize the best army; and I only say, in such a position how would the French have behaved? Many French officers say the same, and how greatly they respect the German soldier. Hundreds of French officers and two generals have broken their word of honor, and run away. I doubt, whether _one_ in the German army would do such a thing. The French peasants, often women, murder our soldiers in their beds, and the wounded they have used too horribly many a time. Is it a wonder, then, when the men let a feeling of revenge lay hold of them? A guerilla war is always horrid, and no words can say how all Germans feel and deplore the present phase of the war! I hope and trust that the end may not be far distant.

One of the poor wounded soldiers whom I gave your cape to is dying, and the poor boy won’t part from it for an instant, and holds it tight round himself.

Louis continues at Orleans, where they have entrenched themselves, and await with impatience news from Paris which must be of great influence for the continuation or ending of the war.

My days fly past. The children take much of my time--so, too, the house, my two wounded in the house, and the hospitals, to one of which I go daily.

DARMSTADT, January 14th.

* * * How kind of you to work something for Louis; he will wear it with such pleasure. Prince Frederick Carl’s recent victories[100] and the fresh hosts of prisoners must help to bring the war to an end. Germany does not wish to go on, but the French won’t see that they are beaten, and they will have to accept the visitors, who must increase in numbers the longer the French refuse to accede to the German demands.

I am so low, so deeply grieved for the misery entailed on both sides, and feel for the French so much. Our troops do not pillage in the way described in English papers. I have read far worse accounts of what the French soldiers and _francs-tireurs_ do in their French villages.

The poor soldier who had your cape is dead. He died with it round him. I was with him in the afternoon, and he had tears in his eyes, and was very low. In the night he died. This morning I was at the station to give things to the wounded and sick who came through--a sorry sight. This afternoon I am going to a poor soldier’s widow who has just had twins. The distress on all sides is great. I help where I can. Becker tears his hair. The two wounded in the house cost so much. So does every thing else; but as long as I can, through sparing on myself, help others, I must do it--though I have, as things now are, nothing left.

I will get a head of Ernest done for your bracelet, and another one, so that you may have something else of him. He is a magnificent boy, but so huge--such limbs! The baby is not at all small, but near Ernest all the others look small.

He can’t speak properly yet, but he understands every thing, and has a wonderful ear for music. He sings the “_Guten Kameraden_” without a fault in the time, and is passionately fond of dancing, which he also does in time.

Irène is growing fast also, but the two eldest are quite big girls; it makes me feel old when I see them growing up to me so fast. Victoria has a very enquiring mind, and is studious, and learns easily and well. Since the middle of December I have been without a governess.

To-morrow I go to Mayence to see poor Woldemar[101] Holstein’s sister. He is very bad, to the grief of all Mayence, and of all who know him.

DARMSTADT, January 16th.

* * * It is pouring and thawing--most dismal--and my thoughts are with our dear ones and our poor troops far away. Becker lost his brother-in-law, who leaves a wife (Matilda, Becker’s sister) and four little children. Each day fresh losses.

My little baby ought to be christened, but Louis and my parents-in-law always hope that the end of hostilities is near, and that Louis can then get leave. Baby’s blue eyes are beginning to turn, and look almost as if they would be brown. Should dear Grandmama’s and Grandpapa’s eyes come up again amongst some of the grandchildren, how nice it would be!

I have but little news to give. I go about to the poor soldiers’ widows and wives--no end of them, with new-born babies, in the greatest distress.

Yesterday I saw the mother of the poor young soldier who died. She keeps your cape as a precious relic, as it had given him such great pleasure.

January 30th.

Your charming photograph and kind letter arrived this morning--thousand thanks for both! How like the photograph, and how pleasing! I am so glad to have it.

The armistice and capitulation of Paris are great events. The people are out of their minds with joy--flags all over the town, and the streets crowded.

I forgot to say in my last letter how grieved I was about Beaty Durham’s[102] death. It is quite shocking! and those numbers of children in so short a time. I earnestly hope none of us run such a chance, for on the whole our children have not been so close together. My last came sooner than I wished, and is smaller than his brother, but I hope now for a long rest. I have baby fed, besides, so as not to try my strength. He is very healthy and strong, and is more like Victoria and my brothers and sisters than my other children, and his eyes remind me of Uncle Ernest’s, and seem turning brown, which would be very pretty, as he is very fair otherwise.

Your pretty photograph is standing before me, and makes me quite absent. I catch myself continually staring at it, instead of writing my letters.

DARMSTADT, February 2d.

* * * All the many French here are pleased at the capitulation of Paris, and hope that peace is certain. Louis writes to me that the inhabitants of Orleans were equally pleased, and consider the war over. I earnestly pray it may be so. How greatly relieved and thankful all Germany would be!

Louis telegraphed to-day. He has no leave as yet, though he hopes for it. Now that there is a prospect of peace, and that the fighting is momentarily over, I feel quite a collapse of my nerves, after the strain that has been on them for six whole months. I can scarcely imagine what it will be when my beloved Louis is at home again; it seems _too great_ a joy! Rest and quiet together are what I long for; and I fear in the first weeks he will have so much to do, and there will be much going on.

He speaks with the greatest hope of going to Scotland this autumn; and, if we are spared to do so, it will be such a rest, and do good to our healths, which must feel the wear and tear sooner or later.

February 11th.

Many thanks for your last kind letter. I thought so much of you yesterday, spending the dear 10th for the first time again at Windsor. To day our little son is to be christened, but only the family will be present, and my ladies and the two wounded gentlemen, who can get about on crutches now. When I think that the one owes his life to being here, it always gives me pleasure.

Two nights ago I was awakened by a dreadful noise, the whole house and my bed rocking from it; and twice again, though less violently. It was an earthquake, and I think too unpleasant. It frightens one so; the doors and windows rattle and shake. To-night two slight shocks, and one during the day yesterday.

How I shall miss dear Louis to-day! The seven months will be round ere we meet, I fear, and he has never seen his dear little boy. It always makes me sad to look at him, though now I have every reason to hope--please God--that I shall have the joy of seeing Louis come home, and of placing his baby in his arms. My heart it full, as you can fancy, and, much as I long to see Louis, I almost dread the moment--the emotion will be so great, and the long pent-up feelings will find vent.

I pray that peace may be restored, and that I may not live to see _such_ a war again, or to see my sons have to go to it.

I will tell Christa to write an account to you of the christening, for Leopold to see also, as he will be godfather. Frederic William Augustus (after the Empress) Victor (victory) Louis will be his names. Fritz and Vicky, the Empress and Fritz Carl, are godparents.

DARMSTADT, February 14th.

My bad eyes must again excuse the shortness of these lines, which are to thank you many times for your last dear letter.

Christa will have sent you the account of little Fritz’s christening, which was a sad day for me, and will have been so for dear Louis likewise. We have added dear Leopold’s name to the other, as his sad life, and the anxiety his health has so often caused us all, endear him particularly, and we hoped it would give him pleasure, poor boy.

The elections in the provinces are all for peace, and only the towns for war and a republic. This week is one of intense and anxious expectation; though the greater portion believe in the restoration of peace, yet we have no security for it.

March 6th.

* * * Now dear Louise’s marriage draws near, how much you must feel it! I think so much of her, of your and of my dear home. I trust she will be very happy, which with such an amiable young man she must be.

Louis has received the Order “_Pour le mérite_,” which I am so glad of for him. The Emperor telegraphed the announcement to my mother-in-law, with many complimentary words about her sons. To have the three sons safe is something to be thankful for, for they were much and continually exposed. I know nothing of Louis’ coming. The troops march home, and it will take at least six weeks. I hope so much that he may have leave for a fortnight, and then return to the troops, to lead them home.

To-night are the peace illuminations here, which will be very pretty. Our house will also be illuminated, and I take the two eldest girls out with me to-night to see it all. It is a thing for them never to forget, this great and glorious, though too horrid, war.

March 13th.

I know nothing as yet of Louis’ return. I fear I must wait a few weeks longer. On Wednesday the Emperor, Fritz, and some of the Princes pass through Frankfort, and I am going there with my parents-in-law to see them.

The Paris news is not very edifying, and I fear France has not seen the worst yet, for there seems to be a fearful state of anarchy there.