Part 5
It is not yet eight, and I have such cold fingers. The messenger leaves at nine, so I must write now. We are going to Mayence to-day, to see a house of our architect Kraus, which is said to be very pretty and very English.
I paid Becker and his mother a visit yesterday. Their rooms are so nice, pictures and presents from you and dear Papa in all directions, remembrances of past, such happy, years!
Yesterday also I drove baby out in my little carriage. She sat on Christa’s knees and looked about her so much; she went to sleep at last.
November 17th.
* * * Yesterday I was all the morning with Julie Battenberg buying Christmas presents. To-day also I am much occupied. We get up at seven, with candles, every morning, as this is the best time for doing all business, and breakfast at eight.
November 21st.
* * * The Holstein question, I fear, will lead to war. Fritz’[34] rights are so clear. And I am sure all Germany will help him to maintain his rights, for the cause is a just one.
I am sure, dear Mama, you are worried to death about it, which is very hard, for you cannot undo what once exists. _Any thing_ only to _avoid_ war! It would be a sad calamity for Germany, the end of which no one can foresee.
My baby has this morning cut her first tooth, and makes such faces if one ventures to touch her little mouth.
To-day I am going to visit the hospital in the town, which is said not to be good or well looked after. I want to be able to do something for it, and hope to succeed, for the people have plenty of money, only not the will. The Burgomaster and Gemeinderath [the Town Councillors] will meet me there.
I have just called into life what did not exist--that is, linen to be lent for the poor women in their confinements, and which I hope will be of use to them, for the dirt and discomfort is very great in those classes.
November 28th.
* * * My visit to the hospital was very interesting, and the air was good, the place clean and fresh. There were few people dangerously ill there, and they looked well taken care of. Air and water are making their way into these places to the benefit of mankind.
I was so much distressed the other day; for the poor man who fell in our house has died. He was a soldier, and so respectable and industrious, not above twenty-four. This is already the second who has died in consequence of a fall.
Our visit to Carlsruhe was very pleasant. The Queen [of Prussia] was there, and we spoke so much of you together. She enters quite into all your feelings, and perfectly understands all the sad trials and difficulties of your position in addition to your just and natural grief.
November 30th.
A few words of love and affection from us both on this dear day--the third anniversary of the commencement of all our happiness, which dear Papa and you enabled us to form.
Those happy days at Windsor and those awful days the year after! I assure you the season, the days, _all_ make me sad--for the impression of those two years can never be wiped out of my mind. I can write but a few lines, as to-morrow we leave for Amorbach, and to-day I go with Louis out shooting. It is cold and fine, as it was two years ago.
Darling Mama, again and again we thank you and beloved Papa for all your love to us at that time.
AMORBACH, December 2d.
* * * We arrived here at half-past four yesterday, after a bitter cold drive in an open carriage over hard roads, all being frozen, since ten in the morning. The country we came through was beautiful, though all white, up and down hill all the way, through many villages, through woods, etc. The house is large and comfortable, full of souvenirs of dear Grandmama [Duchess of Kent], of Uncle Charles.
I am so pleased to be with Ernest and Marie,[35] it is a bit of home again.
DARMSTADT, December 6th.
* * * Our visit to Amorbach was so pleasant, though the weather was bad. I was so happy to be once more with Ernest and Marie. Edward[36] was very amusing and good-natured. I saw poor old Wagner,[37] who wishes me to send you his duty.
December 8th.
* * * Think, only yesterday evening at a concert they played “Ruy Blas,” which I had not heard since Windsor. The room, the band, dear Papa, all came before me, and made my heart sink at the thought that _that_ belonged to the bright recollections of the past! I cried all the way home. Such trivial things sometimes awaken recollections more vividly, and hurt more keenly, than scenes of real distress. I am sure you know what I mean.
December 12th.
* * * I must close; my tears fall fast, and I ought not to make you sadder, when you are sad enough already. Pray for me when you kneel at _his_ grave--pray that my happiness may be allowed to last long; think of me when you kneel there where on that day my hand rested on your and Papa’s dear hands, two years ago. That bond between us both is _so_ strong, beloved Mama. I feel it as a legacy from him.
December 22d.
A great pleasure I have had in arranging a tree for our good servants. I bought all the things myself at the market, and hung them on the tree; then I also got things for darling Louis.
December 26th.
* * * We all had trees in one large room in the Palace, and our presents underneath it looked extremely pretty. Uncle Alexander’s five children were there, and made such a noise with their play-things.
Baby had a little tree early at her Grandpapa and Grandmama’s, with all her pretty things.
Many thanks for the turkey-pie; we give a dinner to-day in honor.
1864.
The year 1864 was a most eventful one for Germany. After a severe struggle, the Duchies of Schleswig-Holstein were wrested from the control of the German Confederation or Diet at Frankfort, and occupied by Austrian and Prussian troops. The Princess’ own life that year was full of joyful events, and no cloud of sorrow came to disturb her happiness.
The marriage of Princess Anna of Hesse, which took place on the 12th of May, was a cause of great rejoicing to the family.
During the first months of the year the Prince and Princess paid several short visits to Gotha, Carlsruhe, and Munich, and in the summer spent three happy months in England.
On their return to Germany they received numerous guests at Kranichstein. But in spite of the many social duties and distractions in which the Princess took an active part, she never lost sight of more serious duties and pursuits. She became the “Protectress” of the “Heidenreich Institution for Lying-in Women,” which was the beginning of the active interest afterward taken by her in all sanitary improvements. This interest was heightened by the birth of her second daughter, who was born on the 1st of November, 1864, and christened on the 28th of that month, receiving the names of Elizabeth Alexandra Louise Alice. The Princess was very proud of being able to nurse her child herself, and from this time she took up with the keenest interest all questions relating to the physical, mental, and moral training of children. She found an able supporter and independent adviser in Dr. Weber, a very eminent medical man, resident at Darmstadt.
January 5th.
* * * The cold here is awful. I skated yesterday, and to-day we are going to the pond at Kranichstein. (Very few people skate here--only one lady, and she very badly.) Baby only goes out for half an hour in the middle of the day, well wrapped up. It would not do to keep her quite at home, as she would become so sensitive when first taken out again. Of course when it is windy or too cold she stops in.
January 9th.
I was aghast on receiving of Bertie’s telegram this morning announcing the birth of their little son. Oh, may dear Papa’s blessing rest on the little one; may it turn out like dear Papa, and be a comfort and a pride to you, and to its young parents! Your first English grandchild. Dear Mama, my heart is so full. May dear Alix and the baby only go on well!
January 16th.
* * * Baby says “Papa,” “Mama,” and yesterday several times “Louis.” She imitates every thing she hears, all noises and sounds; she gets on her feet alone by a chair, and is across the room before one can turn round. Her adoration for Louis is touching. She stops always, since the summer, alone in our room, so she never cries for Moffat [her nurse], and is very happy on the floor with her play-things. She is a very dear little thing and gets on very fast, but equally in all things, and is as fat as she was. It is so interesting to watch the progress and development of such a little being; and baby is so expressive, she makes such a face when she is not pleased, and laughs so heartily when she is contented. She is more like a child of two years old a great deal.
GOTHA, January 22d.
After a very cold journey we arrived here on Wednesday afternoon. I found dear uncle and aunt well, Leopoldine (who is very dear and nice) and Hermann,[38] Edward and Marie Leiningen, and Prince Lowenstein here. Only Hermann and Leopoldine live in the Castle besides us; the others are all at uncle’s house.
January 30th.
* * * These poor Schleswig-Holsteiners do what they can to liberate themselves from the Danish yoke, and to regain their lawful sovereign, Fritz. And why is England, who stands up for freedom of countries, who in Italy, where there was less cause, did what she could to liberate the country from her lawful sovereigns, to do what she can to prevent the Schleswig-Holsteiners from liberating themselves from a king who has no right over them, merely because they are unfortunate good-natured Germans, who allow themselves to be oppressed?
February 5th.
In the distance, dear Mama, one really cannot judge correctly of reasons for or against things, when one does not exactly know how every thing stands.
February 14th.
* * * We have been in sledges to-day, and everybody drives about the town with them; it sounds so pretty, all the jingling bells.
* * * Shakespeare’s words came home to him--
Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.
Thank God, my husband has none! I thank the Almighty daily for our peaceful homely life, in which sphere we can do a good deal of good to our fellow-creatures, without having to mix in those hateful politics.
Our life is a very, very happy one. I have nothing on earth to wish for, and much as I loved my precious Louis when I married him, still more do I love him now and daily; for his character is worthy of love and respect, and a better husband or father, a more unselfish and kind one, there does not live. His love for you, you know; and on our return how glad we shall be to be near you once more.
February 16th.
Louis is in the Chamber to-day from nine till one, long enough at a stretch, and immediately after breakfast. We always breakfast at eight; then Louis sees the three officers who come every morning on his military business, then Westerweller and all others who have business. We usually walk before luncheon, which is at twelve; and often drive at two or three. At five we dine; at half-past six, theatre, four times a week, till half-past nine; then we take tea together, Louis reads to me, and I work. On other week-days there are concerts or parties. We are often in our new house, and in the garden, arranging things and watching the progress. We also go to lectures here, and are much occupied, which makes the day pass so quickly.
March 1st.
I have learned much since I married, and, above all, not to be dependent on others in my existence. To be able to make a bright and comfortable home for my dear husband is my constant aim; but even in this one often fails, for self constantly turns up, like a bad sixpence. Oh, how dear Papa spoke about that! His whole noble life was that one bright example of sacrificing himself to his duty. Dear, adored Papa! such goodness, such love, when one thinks of it, must silence all complaints of petty troubles in the mouths of his children and servants. You, dear Mama, are the one who suffers the most, though this awful loss has touched all; and to soothe your grief and to help you lightens one’s own.
March 5th.
* * * Spring always makes me so _wehmüthig_ [sad], I don’t know why; one longs for every thing and any thing which is out of one’s reach.
I will tell you of something I did the other day; but please tell no one, because not a soul but Louis and my ladies know of it here. I am the patroness of the “Heidenreich Stiftung,” to which you also gave a handsome present in the beginning. The ladies who belong to it go to bring linen to poor respectable _Wöchnerinnen_ [women in child-bed], who claim their assistance. They bring them food, and, in short, help them. All cases are reported to me. The other day I went to one _incog._ with Christa, in the old part of the town--and the trouble we had to find the house! At length, through a dirty courtyard, up a dark ladder into one little room, where lay in one bed the poor woman and her baby; in the room four other children, the husband, two other beds, and a stove. But it did not smell bad, nor was it dirty. I sent Christa down with the children, then with the husband cooked something for the woman; arranged her bed a little, took her baby for her, bathed its eyes--for they were so bad, poor little thing!--and did odds and ends for her. I went twice. The people did not know me, and were so nice, so good and touchingly attached to each other; it did one’s heart good to see such good feelings in poverty. The husband was out of work, the children too young to go to school, and they had only four kreuzers in the house when she was confined.
Think of that misery and discomfort!
If one never sees any poverty, and always lives in that cold circle of Court people, one’s good feelings dry up, and I felt the want of going about and doing the little good that is in my power. I am sure you will understand this.
March 14th.
MY OWN DEAR PRECIOUS MAMA:--These words are for the 16th, the first hard trial of our lives, where I was allowed to be with you. Do you recollect when all was over [death of the Duchess of Kent], and dear Papa led you to the sofa in the colonnade, and then took me _to you_? I took that as a sacred request from him to love, cherish, and comfort my darling mother to all the extent of my weak powers. Other things have taken me from being constantly with you; but nothing has lessened my intense love for you, and longing to quiet every pain which touches you, and to fulfil, even in the distance, his request.
Oh, darling Mama, were there words in which I could express to you how much I am bound up with you, how constantly my thoughts and prayers are yours, I would write them. The sympathies of our souls can only tell each other how tender my love and gratitude to you is, and how vividly I feel every new trial or new thing with you and for you. * * *
I was with another poor woman, even worse off, this morning, and on the third day she was walking in the room and nearly fainted from weakness. Those poor people!
March 26th.
* * * Yesterday morning at nine we took the Sacrament--all the family and congregation together. The others then stopped for the rest of the service, till after eleven. I went home and returned for the English service at twelve. At half-past six, in the Stadtkirche, Bach’s “Passion” was given.
April 5th.
To-day is Victoria’s birthday. What a day it was this time last year! Baby has her table in the room next to my sitting-room. Uncle Louis and the rest of the family expected to breakfast with us at twelve.
MUNICH, April 11th.
* * * To-day, for the first time since the King’s death,[39] the Queen and we all with our Gefolge [suite] dined in the Winter Garden. It seemed to try her very much, but she is so wonderfully quiet that she scarcely shows it. I was three hours with her yesterday evening. She spoke so kindly of you and with such sympathy and interest, and said, when dear Papa died, she had prayed for you so much.
MUNICH, April 13th.
* * * Between sight-seeing, and going to the Queen’s room, and being with her, I have not a moment scarcely to rest or write. Yesterday we visited the whole Schloss full of frescoes, and the studios of all the famous painters--so interesting. How dear Papa would have enjoyed it! I was thinking the whole time what he would have thought of certain pictures, and how much he would have admired some. But at all times seeing things, and most of all pictures, is fatiguing.
DARMSTADT, April 21st.
* * * On Monday Louis goes into the country to shoot capercailzies [_Auerhahne_]. I accompany him part of the way, but stop at Schweinsberg with Christa’s parents. The air is very good there, and we thought the country would do me good.
* * * We shall leave probably later [for England], after or just before your birthday. We have a great deal to do in London for our house, for which I should want a week; and from Windsor to leave you for a whole week I should not like, and to go up constantly is rather tiring.
We go from Mayence to Rotterdam by steamer, from thence by rail to Antwerp, and then wait for good weather to cross, so that we shall be long under way, but quite easily and comfortably.
April 25th.
* * * We shall leave the week of your birthday. Louis wishes us to have a full fortnight in London.
SCHWEINSBERG, April 28th.
* * * This is a charming country house, in a lovely healthy country; the air has already done me much good. Christa’s parents are charming, clever people, and the life is quiet and refreshing. On Saturday I expect Louis, and then we shall go home.
DARMSTADT, May 14th.
Many thanks for your letter, and above all for your great kindness about the ships, for which I thank you many times.
Christa and Becker wrote an account of the wedding,[40] so I won’t write any more about it save that it went off very well and was very _vornehm_ and well-arranged. * * *
I have borne the fatigues well; but two days before, for two days and one night, I was very unwell. * * * Dr. Weber is a clever man, and is _vielseitig_ [many-sided] in his views on medicine and treatment of illnesses. I think you will like him.
Baby runs alone through two rooms without falling now; she learnt it in a week. She will amuse you so much. Yesterday Louis drove me and his two brothers in a break, and baby went with us much enchanted.
May 17th.
* * * To-morrow afternoon Fritz and Anna leave. To-day the town gives a large ball, to which we all go, and before it there is a dinner at the Schloss.
May 21st.
* * * It is excessively hot, which makes me so tired and weak. I am sure you suffered dreadfully from the heat.
The parting from Anna three days ago was dreadful; she so distressed, and her parents also. * * * They begin their old age alone, so to say, for there are no children in their house any more. It makes us both very sad to leave them, and seems so unfeeling; but we shall return to them soon. What a blessing that you have Beatrice and two brothers, still boys; and yet, for one alone what an anxiety!
MARLBOROUGH HOUSE, May 26th.
Arrived here at half-past eleven, and quite rested. I at once write to you to thank you for your letter and for the great comfort of the ships. I feel so much better already from the air on the Rhine those two days, and the fresh sea air, that I have borne the journey this way with but little fatigue. I find Bertie and Alix both looking well, and the baby so pretty and dear.
I slept during the whole night passage, as I went to bed early. I had about twelve hour’s sleep, which has completely set me up. Louis is paying visits. We have lunched, and in the afternoon Bertie and Alix have promised to call on Lady Augusta and Dean Stanley, and we join them. Aunt Cambridge and Mary we shall see afterward.
* * * * *
[From May to August the Princess was in England on a visit to the Queen.]
* * * * *
KRANICHSTEIN, August 30th.
* * * I have stood the journey well, though I am rather fatigued. It is very warm. Louis is off to Jugenheim. I am to go there to-morrow, and it takes my whole day, as it is so far. I have seen none of the family yet. I was so distressed to part from dear Ernest and Marie, they were so dear and good all along the journey. The weather was beautiful and the passage good.
September 2d.
* * * I am so glad that, from all accounts, every thing went off so very well at Perth[41]; it must have been most trying to you, and yet satisfactory. We read all the accounts you kindly sent us with much interest.
* * * The Emperor [of Russia] with his second and third sons arrived yesterday. We saw him at the station at Darmstadt, but did not join them as the rest of the family did. We go to Jugenheim to-day and baby with us, as little Serge,[42] who is just Beatrice’s age, has such a passion for her. The children are very nice, the two older sons very big. Uncle Gustav is here, which makes me think of you here this time last year.
September 13th.
* * * Two days ago we had intense heat, and since great cold--the two extremes constantly, which is so unwholesome. The Emperor is very grateful for your message, and sends his best remembrance. * * * There were seven young men to dinner yesterday, and your glass was used for the first time and looked so pretty.
September 17th.