Part 6

* * * The Emperor and Empress [of Russia] before leaving took a most tender farewell of us, and she gave me their Order. They return to Darmstadt on the 27th for a fortnight, as it is now settled that the Empress is to spend the winter at Nice, and she may not go there till the beginning of October at the soonest, as it would be too warm.

* * * We are in the middle of the second volume of Froude,[43] but it is too detailed to interest you; you have far too much to do to be interested in it. * * * Robertson’s beautiful sermons we have also read together, and I have discovered that a German translation exists, and have ordered one.

Mrs. Hardinge[44] leaves me the end of this month, I am sorry to say; for she is very nice, discreet, and ready to do any thing, and not at all of the present bad English _genre_.

September 20th.

* * * What you say about the poor sisters, and indeed of all the younger ones, is true. The little brothers and Beatrice are those who have lost the most, poor little things! I can’t bear to think of it, for dear Papa, more peculiarly than any other father, was wanted for his children; and he was the dear friend, and even playfellow, besides. Such a loss as ours is indeed unique. Time only increases its magnitude, and the knowledge of the want is felt more keenly.

* * * I was yesterday in our little house, arranging and clearing out the rooms. We shall have very close quarters, but it will not be uncomfortable.

* * * I often wish dear Papa could have seen what a treasure I have in my darling; but I am sure he does see it, and his blessing with yours rests on us, for we seem not separated from either of you, our life is so interwoven with yours.

Where people are unselfish, loving, good, and industrious, like my dear Louis, I always feel a certain likeness beginning to grow up with our dear angel Father! Don’t you? Oh, may we all only become like him! I struggle so hard, dear Mama, in the many little trials I daily have, to become more like him. My trials melt away when I think of you, and I wish I were great and strong to be able to bear some of your great trials for you. Dear Mama, how I love you! how we both love you, and would shield you with our love from all new blows and trials, you know. God comfort you! My heart is often too full to say all that is in it; to tell you all my love and devotion, for your own precious sake, and for dear Papa’s, who left you as a legacy to us all to love and to cherish for him.

September 23d.

To-morrow Louis, I, and my two ladies, take the sacrament in the little church here. I wished much to take it before my hour of trial comes. Dear Louis read to me yesterday evening Robertson’s sermon on the “Sympathy of Christ.”

We have fine autumn weather, and I am out as much as I can. * * * I sleep well and breakfast always at half-past eight; we dine at two, and take supper at eight, then my ladies read aloud, and I work or Christa plays, Louis reads his papers, etc. To myself I read Lord Malmesbury’s “Memoirs,” which are very curious, and when Louis has time he reads Froude to me.

KRANICHSTEIN, October 4th.

* * * To-morrow dear Uncle Leopold [King of the Belgians] comes for a few hours. Louis will go to Darmstadt or Mayence to meet him, and I will receive him at the station, as none of the family know him. Louis is out shooting with the Emperor. Uncle Alexander’s throat has already begun to be bad again.

* * * I am writing quite a confused letter in the midst of household troubles, for the Emperor and Empress have just let me know that they wish to breakfast here, and Louis is out, and I don’t know where or how to have the things in our small _ménage_. I must therefore conclude and do my business.

October 7th.

* * * I had the pleasure of seeing dear Uncle two days ago looking wonderfully well, and kind and dear as ever. * * * To-day I must go to a large family dinner. Fritz and Anna of Hesse, Grand Duchess Marie, and Prince and Princess William of Baden, besides ourselves, the family, and the Emperor and Empress.

DARMSTADT, October 14th.

We are at length here, in great disorder, and I have been waiting half an hour only for a pen to be found. I am tired and not very well. * * * Augusta [Lady Augusta Stanley] being with you I am very glad of, and she must be such a comfort to you, for besides being such a friend, she has that peculiar charm of manner which all the Bruces possess.

October 21st.

* * * I am so grieved about poor Louise; she will want much care and attention.

Lady Car. [Caroline Barrington] is here since yesterday evening to my great delight, and is not looking the worse for her journey.

October 29th.

* * * To-morrow we expect Vicky and Fritz [Crown Prince and Princess of Prussia] for two hours, and later Bertie and Alix on their way back from Amorbach, for a few hours. I shall be delighted to see them.

October 31st.

* * * Yesterday we had the pleasure of having dear Vicky and Fritz and baby here for two hours, the former well and in such good looks, as I have not seen her for long. The baby is a love, and very pretty. We were very glad after a year’s separation to meet again, and Vicky was so dear and loving. I always admire her understanding and brightness each time I see her again; and Fritz so good, so excellent. Bertie and Alix we expect in a day or two for a short visit. It is very cold, but not unpleasant. I go out twice a day.

DARMSTADT, November 7th.

* * * The little daughter[45] was but a momentary disappointment to us, which we have quite got over. We console ourselves with the idea that the little pair will look very pretty together.

November 20th.

* * * We are both very much pleased at the arrangements about Brown and your pony, and I think it is so sensible. I am sure it will do you good, and relieve a little the monotony of your out-of-door existence, besides doing your nerves good. I had long wished you would do something of the kind; for, indeed, only driving is not wholesome. * * * I have had two drives, which have done me good. * * * My mother-in-law has been kindness itself all along--so attentive and yet so discreet. I can’t be grateful enough. My good father-in-law also. * * * Louis’ mother is to be godmother, because it is customary here to ask some one of the name the child is to receive to stand on the occasion. We liked Elizabeth on account of St. Elizabeth being the ancestress of the Hessian as well as the Saxon House.

November 26th.

* * * We probably go to Carlsruhe on Wednesday, the only place we can well go to near by; we can’t take an inn at Baden or any thing of that sort, and we only go for a week or ten days at most. * * * I am very well and very careful; all people say I look better, and have more color than I have had for long, and, indeed, I feel strong and well, and my fat baby does perfectly, and is a great darling. Affie and Louis and his brother are out shooting. The horrid weather has kept me in these three days.

November 29th.

* * * I ought to mention the christening. My mother-in-law held baby all the time, and it screamed a good deal. Victoria stood with us and was very good, only kneeling down and tumbling over the footstool every two minutes, and she kept whispering to me, “Go to Uncle’s.” I thought so much of the christening last year, when Victoria behaved much better than her larger dark sister. Ella measured twenty-three and a half inches a fortnight ago, and she had not grown then. Victoria, I believe, was twenty inches.

CARLSRUHE, December 5th.

* * * Dear Dr. Macleod is coming with Affie to Darmstadt for the 14th. Vicky and Fritz will be with us also. How kind of him to come, and it has made Affie so happy, for he is so devoted to him.

DARMSTADT, December 10th.

* * * We returned here yesterday, after a very pleasant stay at Carlsruhe. It was very quiet, and we were always _en famille_. We had the opportunity of speaking much with Fritz, who is in every way so distinguished, and dear Louise is so good and kind.

I have very little time to write to-day, as we arrived late last night. Louis has to be absent to-day, so I have a great deal to do.

December 15th.

I had not a moment to myself to write to you yesterday, and to thank you for the kind lines you sent me through dear Dr. Macleod. He gave us a most beautiful service, a sermon giving an outline of dear Papa’s noble, great and good character, and there were most beautiful allusions to you in his prayer, in which we all prayed together most earnestly for you, precious Mama!

We talked long together afterward about dear Papa, and about you, and though absent were very near you in thought and prayer.

Dear Vicky talked so lovingly and tenderly of you, and of how homesick she sometimes felt. She was not with us on that dreadful day three years ago, and that is so painful to her. Dear Affie was, as we all were, so much overcome by all Dr. Macleod said. Vicky, Affie, Louis, and myself sat in the little dining-room; he read to us there. Fritz had left early in the morning. The day was passed quietly and peaceably together, and I was most grateful to have dear Vicky and Affie with me on that day. My dear Louis wishes me to express to you how tenderly he thought of you and with what sympathy on this sad anniversary. Never can we cease talking of home, of you and of all your trials. God bless and comfort you, my own dear Mama!

1865.

In the month of January of this year the Prince and Princess were at last able to carry out their intentions of visiting Berlin, which had several times been postponed. The Princess met with the greatest kindness and attention from the King and Queen of Prussia, who had been much attached to her since her childhood.

A great grief fell upon the Grand Ducal family through the death of the young Grand Duchess of Mecklenburg-Schwerin, Prince Louis’ only sister, whose recent marriage had given so much satisfaction to the family, and who died on the 16th of April, a few days after giving birth to a daughter.

About the same time, the Cesarewitch Nicholas, eldest son of the Emperor of Russia, died at Nice. He was his mother’s favorite son, and had been engaged to be married to Princess Dagmar of Denmark (present Empress of Russia), the sister of the Princess of Wales. Princess Alice endeavored with all a daughter’s love and sympathy to cheer her parents-in-law under their heavy bereavement.

While the Prince and Princess were absent in Switzerland at the Riga Kaltbad in the Bernese Alps, Queen Victoria spent one day at Kranichstein, and on the 26th of August gathered all her children round her at Coburg. On that day the Prince Consort’s statue on the market-place at Coburg was unveiled.

The yearly visit to England took place in the autumn, and the Prince and Princess spent a longer time than usual in the Highlands, where they made many delightful excursions.

Soon after their return to Germany, the sad news reached them of the death of the King of the Belgians. Endeared by his personal character to his family and friends, he was also by reason of his statesmanlike qualities recognized as one of the most remarkable sovereigns of Europe.

Although Princess Alice had lived but a short time at Darmstadt, she had already become the acknowledged centre of social life in that town. Her liberal and independent spirit, conflicting as it did with many local prejudices, exposed her to many criticisms; still, no one who came in contact with her could resist the charm of her appearance and manner. The Princess had, so to speak, not “yet taken root” in her adopted country; but, acute and close observer as she was, she soon found where her own sphere of occupation lay, and what the agencies were by which she could work out her plans.

Her letters show the love she bore to her new family, and the many useful enterprises which she now initiated for the well being of the country.

January 1st.

* * * Thousand thanks for your dear words and for the wishes! I was thinking so much of you and of home, when your letter came in. It made me so happy! Darling Mama, I can feel so much with and for you during these days. I was all day on the verge of tears, for the very word “_Neujahr_” brought Papa and Grandmama, and all at Windsor as in former days, so vividly before me, it made my heart ache! That bright happy past, particularly those last years, when I was the eldest at home, and had the privilege of being so much with you both, my own dearly loved parents, is a remembrance deeply graven, and with letters of gold, upon my heart. All the morning I was telling Louis how it used to be at home, and how we all assembled outside your dressing-room door to scream in chorus “_Prosit Neujahr_!” and to give to you and Papa our drawings, writings, etc., the busy occupation of previous weeks. Then playing and reciting our pieces, where we often stuck fast, and dear Papa bit his lip so as not to laugh; our walk to the riding-school [where the alms to the poor were distributed], and then to Frogmore. Those were happy days, and the very remembrance of them must bring a gleam of sunshine even to you, dear Mama. Those two dinners, when I was with you both, were such happy evenings. I am so grateful I remained at home, and lost not a day of those happy ones.

At eight this morning we two went to church; at half-past three there was a large dinner at the Schloss. I wore the bracelet with your pictures, as I always do on all particular days, for I like to be able to look at those dear faces.

January 2d.

We mean to go out sledging. The cold, and all the ground being white this last month, has given me such bad eyes. I can do nothing of an evening at all, and reading even by daylight makes them so bad that they get quite red. The ladies read to me, instead, all sorts of instructive things. Louis has already found time to read through a whole volume of the “Lives of the Engineers.”[46] You could not have sent any thing that would interest him more. He thanks you so much for the pretty New Year’s wish also.

January 14th.

Thousand thanks for your dear letter, for the nice enclosure from Dr. Macleod, and for the beautiful sermon by Dean Stanley. One remark struck me as singularly applicable to dear Papa, where he says: “To die is gain; to be no longer vexed with the sight of evil, which they cannot control,” etc.--for dear Papa _suffered_ when he saw others do wrong; it pained that good pure spirit: and though we long for him and want him, if we could call him back--even you who want him so much, I think would pause before you gave vent to the wish that would recall him. * * *

When trials come, what alone save faith and hope in a blessed future can sustain one!

* * * You can’t think how much I am interested in every little detail of your daily life. Besides, you know it cannot be otherwise. Please say kindest things to Brown,[47] who must be a great convenience to you.

January 20th.

* * * The more one studies and tries to understand those wonderful laws which rule the world, the more one wonders, worships, and admires that which to us is so incomprehensible; and I always wonder how there can be dissatisfied and grumbling people in this beautiful world, so far too good for our deserts, and where, after our duty is done, we hope to be everlastingly with those we love, where the joy will be so great and lasting that present sorrow and trouble must melt away before that sunshine.

January 23d.

* * * We have rain and warm high wind, and leave at four o’clock this afternoon. Ella has her bath as a bed, and Victoria sleeps in the bassinet, which is done up with chintz for the occasion. I don’t think they can catch cold. There is a stove in the centre compartment besides. You can fancy I feel shy going to Berlin into a perfectly new society; and I have been so little out on the whole since the year 1861. Marie Grancy[48] goes with us.

BERLIN, January 29th.

* * * The journey went off very well, and we are so happy to be here. Vicky and Fritz are kindness itself, and Vicky so dear, so loving! I feel it does me good, that there is a reflection of Papa’s great mind in her. He loved her so much, and was so proud of her. The King is, as always, very kind, and so pleased to see us here. Louis is very happy to meet his old comrades again, and they equally so to see him; and I am so glad that he can have this amusement at least, for he is so kind in not leaving me--and our life must be rather dull sometimes for a young man of spirit like him.

BERLIN, February 1st.

* * * Affie arrived at eight this morning. I am sure the King will be so pleased at your having let him come now. He is so kind to me; it touches me very much, for I have never done any thing to deserve it.

BERLIN, February 4th.

* * * I have not been sight-seeing anywhere, as it is too cold for that. We drive in a shut carriage, and then walk in the Thiergarten. We spend the whole day together, which is a great enjoyment to me, and of an evening we go out together. It is so pleasant to have a sister to go out with, and all the people are so kind and civil to us.

Sigismund[49] is the greatest darling I have ever seen--so wonderfully strong and advanced for his age--with such fine color, always laughing, and so lively he nearly jumps out of our arms.

This house is very comfortable, and Vicky is surrounded with pictures of you and dear Papa--near her bed, on all her tables--and such endless souvenirs of our childhood: it made me quite _wehmüthig_ [sad] to see all the things I had not seen for seven years, and since we lived together as children--souvenirs of Christmases and birthdays from you both, and from dear Grandmama, from Aunt Gloucester, etc. It awakened a thousand old remembrances of happy past times.

BERLIN, February 7th.

* * * How much do I think of you now, the happy Silver Wedding that would have been, where you could have been surrounded by so many of us! Poor Mama, I do feel so deeply for you. Oh, may I be long, if not altogether, spared so awful a calamity!

Morning, noon, and night do I thank the Almighty for _our_ happiness, and pray that it may last.

These lines are for the dear 10th,[50] though they will reach you on the eve; and they are to tell you from Louis and myself how tenderly we think of you on that day, and of darling Papa, who made that day what it was. It will be a day of great trial to you, I fear. May the Almighty give you strength and courage to bear it! I am sure the dear sisters and brothers who are at home will try to cheer you with their different loving ways--above all, little Beatrice, the youngest of us all.

Louis goes to Schwerin to-morrow until Friday. They wanted us to go together, but one journey is enough at this time of the year.

BERLIN, February 11th.

* * * We have been sledging these two days; it is very cold, and the rooms mostly very hot. When we go out of an evening, we are packed up from head to foot. My dear Louis returned from Schwerin at five this morning, pleased with his visit. He found the Castle fine and comfortable, and its inmates very happy.

BERLIN, February 14th.

* * * We leave next Saturday. I shall be so sorry to leave dear Vicky, for she is often so much alone. Fritz is really so excellent, it is a pleasure to look at his dear good face; and he is worked so hard--no health can stand it in the long run.

BERLIN, February 17th.

* * * This will be my last letter from here, and I only regret leaving here on account of parting with dear Vicky and Fritz, whom we see so rarely, and usually but for a short time. I have passed such pleasant hours with dear Vicky: that is what I shall look back to with so much pleasure and satisfaction.

DARMSTADT, February 21st.

I write once more from our dear little home, which I find very cold; snow and ice everywhere still--it seems as if winter would never end. We accomplished our journey very well. Poor Vicky will miss us very much, I fear, in the many hours when she is alone, and which we spent together. Writing does not make up for it.

We give a large masked ball in the Palace at Fastnacht [Shrove Tuesday], which is to-day week. It is the first thing we do for the society, and I hope it will go off well. I found so much to do since my return that I can write no more.

Before closing I must mention though, that yesterday evening I heard “Elijah” beautifully given. How I thought of dear Papa! Nearly every note brought back to mind observations he made about it. I thought I could see him, and hear his dear sweet voice turning round to me with quite watery eyes, saying, “_Es ist doch gar zu schön_” [“It is really quite too lovely.”]

Adored Papa! how he loved this fine music; the harmony in it seems like the harmony of souls, and Mendelssohn’s music is so good, _fromm_ [pious]--I mean, it makes one better to hear it. In the second part, in an air of “Elijah” toward the end, I found the part from which those beautiful responses are taken which Cusins arranged, and which Papa liked so much.

February 27th.