Part 25

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

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

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

KRANICHSTEIN, October 7th.

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

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

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

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

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

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

SCHLOSS KRANICHSTEIN, October 16th.

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

October 26th.

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

1876.

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

January 18th, 1876.

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

DARMSTADT, January 22d.

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

February 9th.

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

WOLFACH, June 7th.

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

DARMSTADT, June 23d.

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

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

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

DARMSTADT, July 5th.

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

September 5th.

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

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

September 6th.

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

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

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

DOUGLAS’ HOTEL, EDINBURGH, Sunday, September 11th.

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

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

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

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

BUCKINGHAM PALACE, October 19th.

I was so sad at parting with you yesterday. I could not half thank you for all your love and kindness during those weeks. But you know how deeply I feel it; how truly grateful I am to you; how happy and contented I am to be allowed to be near you as in old days. Darling Mama, once more, thousand thanks for all and for every thing!

The journey went quite well, and I am not particularly tired.

BUCKINGHAM PALACE, November 19th.

Thousand thanks for your dear letter received this morning! I feel leaving dear England, as always, though the pleasure of being near the dear children again is very great.

Let me thank you once more from my heart, darling Mama, for all your great kindness, and for having enabled me to do what was thought necessary and best. I return so much stronger and better than I came, in every way--refreshed by the pleasant stay in dear Balmoral with you, and then much better for the time here. I feel morally refreshed, too, with the entire change, the many interests to be met with here, which is always so beneficial, and will help me in every way when I get back to Darmstadt. All this I have to thank you for, and do so most warmly.

Louis, who, as you know, is full of love and affection for you, is very grateful for your kind words, and has likewise derived profit and enjoyment from his stay in England.

* * * My color and strength have so much returned, that I do not doubt being well again this winter.

I went with Dean Stanley to see Mr. Carlyle, who was most interesting, and talked for nearly an hour. Had I had time, I would have written down the conversation. The Dean said he would try and do so.

With Louise I visited Mr. Motley also, who in his way is equally interesting, and has a great charm. * * *

DARMSTADT, November 26th.

Many thanks for your last letter from Balmoral, received yesterday morning! I _know_ you feel leaving the dear place, but without going away there is no _Wiedersehen_ [meeting again]. The happiness of our meeting with the dear children was very great on all sides--they eat me up!

They had made wreaths over the doors, and had no end of things to tell me. We arrived at three, and there was not a moment’s rest till they were all in bed, and I had heard the different prayers and hymns of the six, with all the little different confidences they had to make. My heart was full of joy and gratitude at being with them once more, and I prayed God to make me fit to be their real friend and stay as long as they require me, and to have the insight into their different characters to guide them aright, and to understand their different wants and feelings. This is so difficult always.

Victoria is immensely grown, and her figure is forming. She is changing so much--beginning to leave the child and grow into the girl. I hear she has been good and desirous of doing what is right; and she has more to contend with than Ella, therefore double merit in any thing she overcomes, and any self-sacrifice she makes.

Ernie is very well, and his birthday was a great delight. Sweet little May is enchanting,--“my _weet_ heart,” as she calls me. Aliky is very handsome and dear.

DARMSTADT, December 12th.

I see this letter will just arrive on the 14th--day never to be forgotten! How deeply it is graven in my heart--with letters of blood; for the pain of losing _him_, and of witnessing your grief, was as sharp as any thing any child can go through for its beloved parents. Yet God’s mercy is to be found through all, and one learns to say “Thy will be done,” hard though it is. * * *

1877.

The health of Prince Charles of Hesse (father of Prince Louis) had for some time past given cause for great anxiety. He had always suffered from violent headaches and a delicate throat. On the evening of the 11th of March he was seized with erysipelas, and died peacefully on the 20th. The Princess shared the grief of her mother-in-law and family most truly; for Prince Charles, though outwardly shy and retiring, was a man of great cultivation and refinement, and had made himself beloved by all who knew him. He was buried in the Mausoleum at the Rosenhöhe on the 24th of March. The Grand Duke, who was deeply affected by his brother’s death, and all the family were present.

A month had scarcely passed since Prince Charles’ death, when the Grand Duke himself was attacked by serious illness at Seeheim, one of his summer residences, near Darmstadt, and died on the 13th of June at the age of seventy-one.

Prince Louis was the next heir, and ascended the throne as Grand Duke Louis IV.

The total change of circumstances, the heavy duties and responsibilities of her new position, came most unexpectedly upon the Princess, and she scarcely felt herself equal to them. With her well-known conscientiousness and high feeling of duty it was not surprising that they weighed heavily upon her, more especially as her health had of late become very delicate. Still, the hope of being able to carry out many a plan for the welfare of her adopted country encouraged her greatly.

After the official receptions held by the Grand Duke and Grand Duchess were over, they left Darmstadt for the quiet little watering-place of Houlgate, in Normandy. The Grand Duke was only able to accompany the Grand Duchess as far as Metz, but he followed her later on with the children. The rest and quiet were good for them all; and, apparently much improved in health, the Grand Duchess returned for the first time as “mother of the country” [_Landesmutter_] to Darmstadt. Her reception was of the warmest and most enthusiastic nature, which she took as a good omen for the future.

The Emperor of Germany and the Crown Prince visited Darmstadt at the end of September, for the purpose of assisting at the cavalry manœuvres, to the great satisfaction of the country.

The change in Princess Alice’s position in no wise affected her relations to her many charitable institutions, though she had, of course, many new responsibilities thrown upon her. Her constant endeavor was to be just and free from prejudice, to recognize what was good, no matter where, and to promote and further it to the best of her power.

The Grand Duke and Grand Duchess saw much of the Crown Prince and Crown Princess of Germany during the latter part of the year, as they were living at Wiesbaden.

Fräulein Louise Büchner, who had been for ten years so intimately connected with the Grand Duchess, not only as working with her for the good of others, but also by ties of the truest friendship, died on the 28th of November. Her death caused a gap which was sorely felt. A few days before her death, when she was already confined to her bed, she received a letter from the Grand Duchess herself, on the occasion of the tenth anniversary of the opening of the “Alice Bazaar,” thanking her for all she had done.

The Grand Duchess had caused many of the pamphlets written by Miss Octavia Hill to be translated, in the hopes of encouraging in Darmstadt the authorities, and those at the head of private undertakings, to further exertions for improving the condition of the poor.

Whilst in England she had become acquainted with Miss Octavia Hill, “the warm-hearted friend of the poor,” and had visited with her many of the poorer parts of London. She felt the sincerest admiration and respect for Miss Hill, and entirely shared her view, “that we must become the friends of the poor to be their benefactors.” The Grand Duchess did not wish to copy exactly in Germany what Miss Hill had done in London: but she hoped that the knowledge of what had been done in other places would be an incentive to work in the same direction.

At the beginning of this year the Grand Duchess had visited in strictest incognito the worst houses (in sanitary respects) in Mayence, and determined to make a plan for the erection of new dwellings for the working classes there.

DARMSTADT, January 1st.

* * * How beautifully Max Müller’s letter[133] is written and expressed, and how touchingly and truly he puts the point of view on which we all should learn to stand. To become again pure as children, with a child’s faith and trust--there where our human intellect will _ever_ stand still!

I have been reading some of Robertson’s sermons again, and I think his view of Christianity one of the truest, warmest, and most beautiful I know. * * *

DARMSTADT, March 23d.