Part 7

* * * I can write but a very short letter to-day, having so much to do for our ball. I have made a sketch of my costume, which is the same I wore at Berlin at the masked ball at Putbuses. Louis wears part of the Garter Costume.

March 4th.

* * * My parents-in-law leave the middle of this month for Schwerin. * * * My mother-in-law fears that Anna will be badly managed and treated quite after the old fashion, and she won’t be able to help her, she fears. Anna is not very strong, and if she is starved and kept from the air, it will certainly do her harm.

I have written to dear Tilla.[51] To think of home without her seems too sad, but I hope you will invite her sometimes. Every one liked her in the house, she was so gentle and so kind. I shall never forget what I owe her, and I ever loved her most dearly. But she has never been the same again since 1861. It gave her a dreadful shock; she had such a veneration for darling Papa.

I hope this year we can show you our house, though it will not be far enough advanced for you to live in. For another year, I hope, we could make you so comfortable.

DARMSTADT, March 6th.

* * * I am reading at this moment a book by Herr von Arneth--the publication of letters from Maria Theresa to Marie Antoinette from 1770-80. I recommend it to you. The letters are short and interesting, and it would amuse you to take it up now and then, when you have a leisure moment. The advice the Empress gives her daughter is so good; she was a very wise mother.

I have read and studied a great deal about the human body; about children--their treatment, etc. It interests me immensely. Besides, it is always useful to know such things, so that one is not perfectly ignorant of the reasons why doctors wish one to do certain things, and why not. In any moment of illness, before there is time for a doctor to come, one can be able to help one’s self a little. I know you don’t like these things, and where one is surrounded by such as dear Sir James [Clark] and Dr. Jenner, it is perfectly unnecessary and pleasanter _not_ to know a good deal. Instead of finding it disgusting, it only fills me with admiration to see how wonderfully we are made.

DARMSTADT, March 11th.

* * * Westerweller does not accompany us this time to England; he may join us in June. A former playfellow of Louis, Ferdinand Rabenau, accompanies us. Affie knows him and likes him. We think of starting on the 3d, and passing by Brussels to see dear Uncle Leopold. Uncle Louis is still at Nice, and does not return here, it seems, until the Emperor and Empress meet for April 24th--the Emperor’s birthday. My mother-in-law is very grateful for your kind message. She seems very nervous about Anna.

Victoria is teething, which makes her pale and poorly. Ella’s vaccination did _not_ take, and we have the small-pox here.

March 18th.

My poor children have been confined to the house with dreadful colds and coughs. Victoria looks the most pulled, though Ella’s cough was much more violent. I am happy to say that they are really better to-day; but we have snow every day, and that makes their recovery slower.

Yesterday night part of a large seed manufactory close by, near the artillery barracks, was burnt down. The flames were enormous, but the damage done was not great.

My parents-in-law are in Berlin, and after to-morrow they go to Schwerin.

Last night we heard _Cosi fan tutte_ given to perfection. The music is most charming, and I had never heard it before.

April 1st.

* * * Since some days the snow is many feet deep; one can get about in sledges, and Louis drove me in one with four horses this morning. All intercourse by carriage is impossible, and this is very inconvenient to the people in the country where their “Post” cannot drive.

April 4th.

I must begin by telling you how much pleasure your telegram has given me. It is like my own dear Mama to have her arms open for those who want her kind support; and I can only repeat again, that with you, and under your care alone, should I like to leave my little ones so long! To them, indeed, it will in every way be an advantage, and I shall be quite easy in leaving them there, where I know they will have every care which can be given; and it would make us both so happy to feel that in this way we could give you some little pleasure.

Westerweller and Becker both wish very much we may take this winter, D.V., for a journey. As long as we have fewer servants and this small house, it is easy to break up the whole establishment--later, this will be less possible. Louis has never been able to travel, and the advantage of seeing other parts of the world would be so great for him. Without me he would not do it; he says, alone he should not enjoy it. I urge this journey principally for his sake, and I hope you will support me in this. Since our marriage we have seen nothing, and all who can try to enlarge their knowledge. From books alone it becomes tedious and less advantageous.

Victoria is going to have a party of thirty children to-morrow in Prince Charles’ rooms. The snow is thawing at length, and the sun is much too hot. The sudden spring is not pleasant. We have been out riding, and this evening I shall accompany Louis to the Schnepfenstrich [woodcock-shooting[52]], which in a fine evening, when the birds sing, is lovely.

April 8th.

* * * We shall be delighted to receive you in Kranichstein, and if you will send your suite all to Darmstadt we shall be able to arrange, though we have not one spare room anywhere, and I feel you will be rather squeezed. How I look forward to meeting you again, after a year of separation, I can’t say; and I am so glad that it will be under our roof that our joyful embrace will take place. As Uncle Louis is to have the Garter, may not Affie bring it to him _without_ ceremony? He would like it so much better if it can be so.

On the 17th Louis goes to Oberhessen to shoot _capercailzies_, and he deposits me and the children at Lich on his way, where he will join us again for my birthday.

Anna was safely delivered of a little girl this morning, and is doing well.

April 15th.

* * * We have been very anxious about Anna[53] the last few days, for she has had fever since the 9th, and shivering still yesterday.

We have a great deal to do this morning, so I can write but shortly.

We have fine weather at length, and are out a great deal.

Yesterday we took the Sacrament at nine, and numbers of people with us. The service lasted till past eleven, with a pause between.

April 18th.

This is really a dreadfully sad death in our family, and will be a blow to my dear parents-in-law, which will weigh them down for many a day. They who lived so retired, and to whom the family life was all--Anna, the pet--“_das Prinzesschen_,” whom they gave up so unwillingly, and with whom they corresponded daily! It will be a blank in their existence, which I can’t bear to think of! Such tender loving parents! My poor Louis was dreadfully distressed, though he feared the worst all along since we knew that Anna had fever. He left with Grolmann, having passed a dreadful morning. All the old servants, tutors, friends, came crying to us. Since he is gone I have passed sad lonely hours; and poor old Amelung comes[54] and sits in my room, sobbing that she should ever have lived to see this day.

Yesterday morning I went to the Rosenhahe and picked flowers from Anna’s garden, and wound a large wreath, which I have sent to Louis to place on her coffin. The three brothers feel it dreadfully--the first rent in the family circle is always hard to bear, and she so young, so good, so happy! I hear the poor little baby is nice.

Yesterday night Anna was taken into the Schlosskirche [Palace Chapel] upon Louis’ arrival, after a journey of twenty-seven hours. I hope he won’t be ill after all this _Gemüthsbewegung_ [strain upon his feelings], and fatigue always upsets him and makes him sick, and he feels all so deeply and warmly. It is so shocking. I can think of nothing else; and I am very low and sad being so alone, and the warm weather makes one unwell.

The poor Cesarewitch has passed a tolerable night. I fear he is so reduced he can’t get through it. The Empress doats on this son, and he is so like her. The poor Emperor has left for Nice.

April 21st.

Oh, it is sad, very sad! Life indeed is but a short journey, on which we have our duty to do, and in which joy and sorrow alternately prevail. Anna was very good, very unselfish, and a true Christian, with her gentle, humble spirit, and as such she was loved and admired. What rare people my parents-in-law and their children are, I can’t tell you--such childlike faith, such pure unselfish love to each other; I really feel unworthy to belong to them, and they are dear to me beyond description. As I have shared their joys, so with all my heart do I share their sorrow, and fervently pray for them! You will understand this, darling Mama. From you I have inherited an ardent and sympathizing spirit, and feel the pain of those I love as though it were my own. To-morrow I have wished that there should be in the Palace Chapel a funeral service at the same time as the funeral at Schwerin, and all the people here seemed pleased at my wish. Bender, who taught her, confirmed her, and who married her not a year ago in that very church, will perform the service.

Poor Dagmar! what a journey for her, poor child! She begins her troubles early enough.

April 24th.

* * * Many thanks for your kind letter, and for all the kind wishes for my birthday. It will be sad and quiet; but I hope my beloved Louis will arrive to-night, and be with me again--such cause for joy and thankfulness. When I have _him_, all sorrow is turned into peace and happiness. Could I but know you still had darling Papa at your side, how light would my heart be! Once when we have all fulfilled our allotted duties, and overcome that dark night, then, please God, we shall be together, never again to part!

The sympathy of all does my sorrowing family good, for it soothes so much! I had a few lines so tender, so full of faith, from my dear mother-in-law to-day. Since Ella’s birth I know to understand and love her most dearly. She suffered dreadfully, but no complaint passes her lips. She consoles her husband, her son-in-law, and this, with prayer, enables her to bear that which has almost broken her heart.

April 25th.

* * * Dear Louis returned last night well, and bringing good accounts of his parents. They remain there still a little longer, to arrange Anna’s things. At Frankfort, at eleven last night, we met; it was so warm.

The poor Cesarewitch is gone! The Emperor and Empress are coming here in ten days; what sad meetings.

How warm it has been daily since a fortnight, I can’t tell you! We sit all day in the garden, take tea there, drawing-lessons, etc.

April 29th.

I thank you so much for your kind sympathizing letter. All my family are so grateful for all the kindness and sympathy you have shown them on this sad occasion.

To-day Uncle Louis arrives; on Monday the Emperor and Empress, and children. What a sad meeting! They go to Jugenheim direct, where last year they were so happy all together. I hear the Empress is worn out, mind and body; and she insists, instead of finishing her cure, on going in a fortnight to St. Petersburg to meet the remains of her child, and to do him the last honors. Louis fears that it will be more than her feeble frame can endure. In the Greek Church, too, the night Masses are long and exhausting, and she is sure to wish to do all.

We spent my birthday as every other day, and the weather was heavenly. I am painting in oil now, and that interests me much. I find it much easier than water-colors.

I hope Affie will come to pay his respects to the Russians. If you send them a kind message through him, it would please them much.

May 2d.

* * * How well I understand your compassion being alike for mourners in all positions of life. It is but right and natural, and I can’t imagine one’s feeling otherwise.

May 6th.

To-morrow morning my poor parents-in-law arrive. What a meeting, and what a return! My father-in-law and the Empress[55] are each other’s favorites, and understand each other so perfectly. It will be a consolation to both to pour their hearts out to each other, and share each other’s sorrow. My dear father-in-law wrote to Aunt Marie: “Although my heart is sorely depressed, yet it is even more filled with gratitude than with sorrow, that the dear God has given us two such dear children, though but for a brief space.” He is so touching in his grief.

May 8th.

I find my dear parents-in-law pretty well, but poor Mama so terribly tired. She was dreadfully overcome in coming home, and at the several meetings. He looks much older, as, indeed, does also the poor Emperor, who parted yesterday to go to St. Petersburg. Dear Aunt Marie seems very weak, and they both, together with my parents, make such a sad picture to look at. But they all like to speak of those they have lost. My parents-in-law and we go this week to Uncle Louis, to Seeheim for three weeks.

SEEHEIM, May 12th.

You can’t think what real pleasure your pretty locket gave my mother-in-law. She was deeply touched by the kind thought and the considerate attention of the gift--with what was engraved on it. She was so very much pleased with it, and put it on the moment she received it. The photograph is to be put in. To-day, Anna’s wedding-day, it arrived.

We have been here since yesterday afternoon--my parents-in-law and Uncle Louis. The suite are on leave of absence, so we are quite _en famille_.

Yesterday, Serge’s birthday, we went with Uncle and Aunt to the Greek Mass, which lasted more than an hour. We dine daily at the Heiligenberg. This morning also we were there with our parents and children; and Aunt Marie [the Empress of Russia] kept Ella half an hour on her lap, playing with her, which the little one enjoyed very much, as she is particularly sociable and amiable. Victoria romped with her cousins--Aunt Marie’s two, and Uncle Alexander’s four.

SEEHEIM, May 15th.

* * * To-day Michael and Cécile arrive, and on Tuesday the Emperor and Empress recommence their journey homeward. The return will be for both most trying. Aunt Marie spoke with me about her sons, their education, etc., very long last night. Her whole life she has studied and lived for Nike [the late Cesarewitch], that he might become that which was necessary for his future; and she was much more with him, and they were both much more intimate together, than she is with her other children. Affie came here on Saturday, and I am so glad to have him and hear some news of you. At this moment he and William are in the room shooting at a target out of the window, which makes no little noise.

May 20th.

* * * We mean to remain here in the Bergstrasse with our parents; is seems to console them; but my father-in-law makes me very anxious, and is so nervous. Poor Mama! so soft, so tired, so unlike herself, _cela fait pitié_.

On the fifth the Grand Duke is going to receive the Garter. You shall have an account of all.

Affie is here, and to-day dear Arthur comes for a few hours. I shall be so pleased to see him again.

SEEHEIM, May 21st.

* * * Yesterday the Emperor and Empress and children left. So sorry to see them go! God knows when we shall all meet here again. We have been so much together and so intimately, that I have grown very fond of them, and am very sad at the thought of the long and uncertain separation. Dear little Arthur was here, looking very well. The wooded hills here are so nice to ride about on, and the country is very beautiful.

May 31st.

I read serious books a great deal, and of a Sunday together we read out of Robertson’s sermons. In the second series there is one, “The Irreparable Past” for young people, so cheering, so encouraging, so useful. Louis read it to me on his return from Schwerin after poor Anna’s death. A short life indeed, and it makes one feel the uncertainty of life, and the necessity of labor, self-denial, charity, and all those virtues which we ought to strive after. Oh, that I may die, having done my work and not sinned with _Unterlassung des Guten_ [omission to do what is good], the fault into which it is easiest to fall.

Our life being so quiet gives one much time for earnest thought, and I own it is discouraging to find how much one fails--how small the step of improvement is.

I suffer still so much, and so often, from rheumatism. I am taking warm soda-baths in the morning for it, and am rubbed afterward with towels which have been dipped in cold water and then wrung out. It is not very pleasant.

June 4th.

* * * The weather is very beautiful, and we had tea yesterday at Schönberg, the castle of young Count Erbach, whom Louis presented to you at Windsor. Could you tell us for certain when you intend going to Coburg, and when we are expected there, as we are going to the sea to bathe for Victoria and myself, and we would arrange our time accordingly? I require some sea air after the great heat, and after baby’s weaning; also before Scotland it would be good, for I have so much rheumatism. Some sea water will strengthen me.

June 7th.

* * * You know how very Scotch we both are. Louis is devotedly attached to Scotland and his Scotch friends. Do tell them so always. But now I must tell you of yesterday. In the morning Affie, we, and our suite, drove into town for the investiture. At half past three I drove with my ladies, a Kammerherr [Chamberlain], Becker, etc., to the Schloss, where Uncle Louis received us in _shorts_! Then Affie and Louis in their whole Garter dress arrived in a carriage with six horses and an escort. Uncle Louis, before the throne, and the family, Court, corps diplomatique, etc., received them. Affie read in English the address, to which Uncle Louis answered in German; then Affie buckled on the Garter; then Louis helped him to put on ribbon, cloak, etc., and fastened the sword on him, which was no easy task; but they acquitted themselves to perfection, and went out through the long Kaisersaal backward, bowing.

There was a large dinner afterward, at which your health was proposed by Uncle Louis, and in return Affie gave his. You have made a happy man, and he feels the honor--as he said to me in English--“utmostly”; and he wishes me to repeat once more how grateful he is to you. * * *

Affie did not return here last night; he slept at Darmstadt, and left this morning for Amorbach. To-day Uncle Ernest is coming to us, but only for one night. As we have again to go into town to fetch him, and it is very warm, I must close.

SEEHEIM, June 15th.

* * * How it will amuse and please us to show the good excellent Scotchman our home. It is a pleasure to hear of such devotion and attention to you as Brown’s is, and indeed you are so kind to him, that his whole happiness must consist in serving so good a mistress.

I think you will be pleased to hear of a most kind and touching tribute which the Frauen [women] of Darmstadt have paid me. Two hundred and fifty have subscribed to have a splendid picture painted for me, by P. Weber, of Loch Katrine. I am to see it on Sunday. It is very much admired, and they sent the painter to Scotland to do it, thinking that something from my own country would please me most. Is it not kind of them? It has given me so much pleasure--but of all things the feeling which has prompted them to do it, as it shows me that, though I have been here so short a time, they have become attached to me, as I am with all my heart to my new home and country.

Now about myself. I have weaned Ella, last Saturday, and can say that my health has never been so good, nor have I been so strong or looked so fresh and healthy as I do now. When Uncle Ernest saw me he said I looked again as I did as a girl, only rather fatter.

Ella crawls now, and is very strong; she has her first two teeth. Victoria is very wild, and speaks more German than English. I think her rather small, but other people say she is not. She goes out walking with her Papa before breakfast quite alone, with her hands in her pockets, and amuses him very much.

June 19th.

Many thanks for your last letter from dear Balmoral. The parting from that lovely place must always be sad, and there is something in mountains which attaches one so much to that scenery.

Yesterday was a very trying day for my poor mother-in-law (her birth-day), and she was very low, but, as all along, so resigned, so touching in the beautiful way she bears her grief; so unselfish with it, never wishing to make others sad, or to be less interested in their concerns than formerly.

Dear Mary Cambridge has been here, and we enjoyed her visit so much. We took her back to Frankfort to-day, where we gave her and Aunt Cambridge a luncheon in Uncle Louis’ Palais.

June 21st.

It is warm, but very windy and dusty here; we were nearly blinded out riding yesterday evening. I am reading that most interesting History of England by Pauli, in German, which commences with the Congress of Vienna in 1815, and is, I believe, very detailed and correct. It gives a sketch also of the reign of George III., and is so well written one can scarcely lay the book down. It is part of a work written by the best German professors on England, Russia, Italy, France, Spain, and Austria in those years, and I am reading them one after another. They are thick books, and eight volumes.

KRANICHSTEIN, July 2d.