Part 9

Princess Alice attended some very interesting lectures on the necessity of providing special asylums for poor idiots, delivered by a very clever and enterprising “orthodox” clergyman from the Odenwald. She took up the idea most warmly, and determined to found such an institution herself, but in doing this found herself face to face with very serious difficulties. The lecturer and those who sided with him wished that any institution of this kind should bear a strictly religious stamp. The Princess did not agree in this view. She wished to separate the religious from the practical part of the work. She wished people to feel, that they were bound to help to alleviate sickness and suffering (in whatever form) out of mere love to their fellow-creatures, and not only as the fulfilment of a religious duty. While the Princess always acknowledged the value of religious motives in carrying out works of charity, she felt strongly, in this particular case, that the treatment of idiots should be left to the medical profession, without any foreign interference.

A committee was formed of persons who shared the Princess’ views, and who were commissioned by her to take the necessary steps for carrying out her plans. By far the most difficult part of the work fell to her own share--namely, that of finding the necessary funds. To obtain these she organized a Bazaar in her new palace. This was a totally novel proceeding in Germany, and well calculated to attract a large number of visitors. The Bazaar was opened on the 6th of April, and lasted four days. The Princess and Prince Louis and her brother, Prince Alfred, took an active part in it. The result surpassed utmost expectations, a success mainly due to her own personal efforts, and to the charm which she exercised over all. At the close of the Bazaar she was not only able to announce that she had realized the sum of 16,000 florins, but that she had also gained the conviction that the whole country supported her in her undertaking.

In spite of the success of this Bazaar, the Princess was in later years opposed to a repetition of such an expedient, as she felt--what many do--that people often come on such occasions for their own personal amusement rather than to aid the charity.

The war of 1866, which was the consequence of the unfortunate conflict about the Duchies of Schleswig-Holstein, was viewed by the Princess with feelings in which personal interests and attachments conflicted with political convictions. She was so truly German that she felt most keenly the struggle between Germans and Germans, or as she herself says in one of her letters, “brother against brother.”

At times she could not help being downcast, because she saw how much her husband and her husband’s country suffered from it, and because she foresaw how disastrous to South Germany the results of such a war must be. Prince Louis himself was soon obliged to assume his command in the field.

The Princess gave birth to a third daughter on the 11th of July, during the most anxious days of that trying time. Prince Louis had happened to be home on leave for a few days when the event took place; but he was obliged to leave the Princess on the 14th of July, and to go at once into action at Aschaffenburg. As the South-German troops had to retreat, all communication with his home for some time was cut off.

On the 31st of July the Prussians under General von Göben entered Darmstadt. Prince Louis’ parents, who were the only relations remaining in Darmstadt, were daily with the Princess. On the 8th of August, whilst on her way home from visiting her parents-in-law, the Princess unexpectedly met the Prince in the street. He had obtained leave of absence during a short armistice. The joy of this meeting can easily be pictured! The Prince and Princess together visited the wounded; and on the 10th of August the Prince was appointed by the Grand Duke to the command of the Hessian division then in the field. By the Grand Duke’s wish the Prince went for two days to Berlin, and then joined the troops in Rhenish Hesse. He took up his quarters in the “_Gelbe Haus_” at Nierstein-Oppenheim, and the Princess courageously shared them with him--in spite of the cholera then raging there. On the 12th of September--Prince Louis’ birthday--the little Princess was christened at Darmstadt by the military chaplain; she received the names Irène (Peace) Louise Marie Anna. The same day peace was ratified at Berlin--that peace for which the brave mother of the child had so ardently longed.

The Cavalry Brigade which the Prince had commanded stood sponsor to the child.

It was only on the 20th of September that the Prince and Princess with the Hessian division made their public entry into Darmstadt.

January 2d.

I am at the head of a committee of ladies out of the different classes of society to make a large bazaar, in which all the country is to take part, for the Idiot Asylum. It is very difficult--all the more as I have never had any thing to do with such things in my life. * * * I wanted for the first public thing I undertake, to take in all principles, and my mother-in-law has given her name to it. I have chosen the committee out of different sets--half _adelig_ [people of rank] half _bürgerlich_ [of the citizen class], and all these ladies, half of whom I did not know before, come and sit in my small room and discuss--and, as yet, do not disagree.

January 6th.

* * * The people here are so much pleased that my Louis takes such

## active part in all his duties--military and civil, for he attends

the different offices, and as General, I hear, he keeps great order where there was until now disorder and great abuse of power. Of course, I see him much less, and some days scarcely at all.

On the 14th we go to Gotha for about a fortnight, without the children.

GOTHA, January 19th.

Dear Uncle and Aunt are well, and we are very happy here, for they are always kindness itself to us. Uncle looks very well, but he grows very stout, I think. We saw the _Braut von Messina_ [Schiller’s] so well given two nights ago. I thought so much of dear Papa, who admired it greatly; and Uncle Ernest told me he had it given for you, when you first came here.

GOTHA, January 22d.

* * * Two nights ago Uncle, Louis, and I, with a very clever old actress, read a piece together. Louis resisted at first, but it went very well. You can’t imagine how mild it is. I have the windows always open. Gustav Freitag is here. I am always glad to see him. He is a good friend to Uncle, and he is so honest and straightforward.

GOTHA, January 26th.

I shall be very sorry to go away from here--the whole atmosphere does one good. Dear Uncle is so amusing; he speaks of interesting things, and has interesting people.

Our Quaker acquaintances have sent me a great deal for the bazaar, and an old gentleman who heard of it, 100_l._! I could not believe my eyes. They are always so generous: and, hearing of my undertaking a work of this sort, they sent me this spontaneously. Is it not kind?

DARMSTADT, February 1st.

It is spring weather here altogether--quite warm when one comes out of the house. It is so unnatural. The children enjoy it, and are out a great deal, looking so well and strong: I wish you could see them. The little one is growing up to her sister very fast, and actually wears the frocks Victoria wore last year. I wish you could hear all the extraordinary things Victoria says. Ella is civil to all strangers--excepting to my mother-in-law, or to old ladies. It is too tiresome. There is a large ball given by the officers at their Casino to-night, to which we must go. It will be crowded and hot. Our house gets on tolerably. The housekeeper, a Berlinerinn, comes on the 20th, and we told that we can go into the house next month. I can’t help doubting it, and I regret leaving this nice little house, where our first happy years have been spent. I am so glad that you have at least been in the new house, so that I can always think that you are no stranger to it, which makes me like it much better.

February 10th.

* * * I am happy to think you are quiet at Osborne after all you had to go through. The emotion and all other feelings recalled by such an event must have been very powerful and have tried you much.[58] It was noble of you, my darling Mama, and the great effort will bring compensation. Think of the pride and pleasure it would have given darling Papa--the brave example to others not to shrink from their duty; and it has shown that you felt the intense sympathy which the English people evinced, and still evince, in your great misfortune.

How to-day recalls those bright and happy former years! There is no cloud without a silver lining, and the lining to the black cloud which overshadows your existence is the bright recollection of the past blending into the bright hope of a happy future; a small part of it also is the intense love of your children and nation, which casts a light around you which many live to enjoy and admire, and which few--if any--possess like you. I wish I could have sent a fine nosegay of orange blossoms for to-day, but they could not have arrived fresh so I gave it up.

Louis sends his tenderest love, and wishes me to say how much his thoughts with mine are to-day constantly with you. He is very industrious, and has a great deal to do now, and, I hear, does all very well.

DARMSTADT, February 15th.

How dear of you to have written to me on the 10th--a day of such recollections! That last happy wedding-day at Buckingham Palace, how well I remember it, and all the previous ones at Windsor, when we all stood before your door, waiting for you and dear Papa to come out. You both looked so young, bright, and handsome. As I grew older, it made me so proud to have two such dear parents! And that my children should never know you both together--that will remain a sorrow to me as long as I live.

DARMSTADT, March 10th.

* * * Your idea of Friedrichroda for us was so good, but alas! now even that will be impracticable, on account of money. Louis has had to take up money again at Coutt’s to pay for the house, and the house is surety.

We must live so economically--not going _anywhere_, or seeing many people, so as to be able to spare as much a year as we can. England cost us a great deal, as the visit was short last time. We have sold four carriage horses, and have only six to drive with now, two of which the ladies constantly want for theatre, visits, etc.; so we are rather badly off in some things. But I should not bore you with our troubles, which are easy to bear.

March 16th.

How trying the visit to Aldershot must have been, but it is so wise and kind of you to go. I cannot think of it without tears in my eyes. Formerly that was one of the greatest pleasures of my girlhood, and you and darling Papa looked so handsome together. I so enjoyed following you on those occasions. Such moments I should like to call back for an instant.

Our house here is quite empty, and the _déménagement_ creates such work. To-morrow night we sleep for the first time in the new house.

March 17th.

I write from our dear little old house. May dear Papa’s and your blessing rest on our new home, as I am sure it will! It is full of souvenirs of you both--all your pictures, photographs of dear brothers and sisters and home. It reminds me a little of Osborne, of Buckingham Palace, a little even of Balmoral. Could I but show it to darling Papa! If I have any taste, I owe it all to him, and I learned so much by seeing him arrange pictures, rooms, etc.

At half-past seven we go into our house to-night. Bender is to say a prayer and pronounce a blessing, when we with all our household are assembled in hall; only Louis’ parents and William besides ourselves. Yours and dear Papa’s I pray to rest on us.

March 20th.

That [the death of the Duchess of Kent] was the commencement of all the grief; but with darling Papa, so full of tenderness, sympathy and delicate feeling for you, how comparatively easy to bear, compared to all that followed!

* * * We are very comfortably established here, and I can’t fancy that I am in Germany, the house and all its arrangements being so English. When can we hope once to have you here? Of course _that_ is the summit of our wishes. Your rooms are on the east side and very cool--as you always go abroad when it is hot, and suffer so much from the heat. I shall die of it this year, as my rooms are to the west.

March 24th.

* * * Our grand-uncle of Homburg has just died, so that Homburg falls to Uncle Louis now. But all the things of the Landgravine Elizabeth go to Princess Reuss, and her [Aunt Elizabeth’s[59]] rooms are full of beautiful miniatures, oil-paintings, and ornaments _en masse_, like Gloucester House.

I shall be so glad to see dear Affie. His rooms are to be ready by this evening. The house is very comfortable, but the weather is awful--wind, rain, and sleet. In spite of it the house is so cheerful.

How sorry I am for you that dear Aunt[60] is gone. As she was so well this time, it will be a reason more for her returning soon to you.

Dear Lady Frances Baillie was with me on Thursday, so dear and charming.

April 2d.

* * * We are living in such a state of anxiety and alarm. War[61] would be too fearful a thing to contemplate--brother against brother, friend against friend, as it will be in this case! May the Almighty avert so fearful a calamity! Here, at Mayence and Frankfort, it will begin, if any thing happens, as there are mixed garrisons; and we must side with one against the other. For Henry, who is still here, it is dreadful. He can’t desert at such a moment, and yet if he should have to draw his sword against his country, his brothers fighting on the other side! Fancy the complications and horrors of such a war!

For Vicky and Fritz it is really dreadful; please let me hear by messenger what you hear from them. I am sure you think of us in these troubled times. What would dear Papa have said to all this? I long to hear from you, to know that your warm heart is acting for Germany.

March 26th.

* * * The dear old Oueen Marie Amélie[62] is gone to her rest at last, after a long and so stormy a life! Claremont is now also altered. How sad those constant changes are! It reminds one again and again that we are on a journey, and that the _real home_ is elsewhere. All those who work hard and love their fellow-creatures meet again, and the thorny path will be forgotten which leads to the happy meeting. I sincerely mourn for the dear Queen, and she was so kind to me always. I am glad she was one of Victoria’s god-mothers.

April 7th.

* * * Our Bazaar goes off wonderfully: 7,000 florins the first day, and to-day again a great deal. Affie was invaluable in arranging, selling, and assisting in every way. There have been crowds these two days, as in England: something quite unusual for the quiet inhabitants of this place. They have shown so much zeal and devotion that I am quite touched by it, as I am more or less a stranger to them.

April 25th.

Thousand thanks for your dear lines, and for the money and charming bas-relief of you, which I think very good. I thought so much of former birthdays at home in Buckingham Palace. They were so happy. We did nothing in particular; merely dined at Kranichstein with Uncle Louis in the afternoon. It was warm and fine.

The money will go at once to Louis’ man of business toward paying off the furniture, and is, indeed, very, very acceptable, more so under present circumstances than any thing else you could give us; and that part of the furniture will then all be your present.

May 3d.

* * * The prospect of war seems to be nearing realization. It will be so dreadful if it does. God be with us, if such a misfortune befall poor Germany! These prospects have already done much harm to trade. The large manufacturies send away their superfluous workmen, and they sell next to nothing. Most unpopular amongst high and low, and amongst people of all opinions, this civil war will be. * * *

I have made all the summer out-walking dresses, seven in number, with paletôts for the girls--not embroidered, but entirely made from beginning to end; likewise the new necessary flannel shawls for the expected. I manage all the nursery accounts, and every thing myself, which gives me plenty to do, as every thing increases, and, on account of the house, we must live _very_ economically for these next years.

It is so kind of you to give Dr. Priestley his fee, otherwise I would have had scruples in giving so large a sum for my own comfort.

If there is a war then, and Louis is away, what shall I do? This is my constant dread and apprehension. As long as he comes home safe again--that is all I shall think of. Please God to spare me that fearful anxiety, which weighs on me now already; for he, having only a brigade, could not keep out of danger, like Fritz in Schleswig.

I put my trust wholly in the Almighty, who has watched over and blessed our life so richly thus far--so _much, much_ more than I ever deserved, or can deserve; and He will not forsake us in the hour of need, I am sure.

These dangerous times make one very serious and anxious; the comfort of faith and trust in God, who does all well and for the best, is the only support. Life is but a pilgrimage--a little more or a little less sorrow falls to one’s lot; but the anticipation of evil is almost as great a suffering as the evil itself, and mine always was an anxious nature, so I cannot banish the thoughts which all the dreadful chances of war force upon one.

May 7th.

* * * I am so sorry for poor Louise and Beatrice, and whooping-cough is a nasty thing, though I wish we could complain of that as our sufferings here. Anxiety, worry without end!

Uncle Alexander returned from Vienna two days ago. The Emperor, Uncle Alexander Mensdorff, all frantic at being forced into war, but fearing now no more being able to prevent it. Cannot the other three Powers interfere and step between at this dangerous crisis--proposing a Congress, or any thing, so as to avert this calamity?

Henry, who was here on six weeks’ leave, as he and Uncle Louis were to have gone to Russia (which now, of course, they won’t do), had suddenly to return to Bonn, as his regiment is made _mobil_. Uncle Alexander receives the command of the 8th Armee-corps, which I suppose and hope will be stationed somewhere near here, as Louis is in that, and _is to go_. He means to go to Berlin this afternoon for a day to see Fritz, and tell him how circumstances now force him to draw his sword against the Prussians in the service of his own country. The whole thing is dreadful, and the prospect of being left alone here at such a moment (for all our people, nearly, will accompany Louis) is dreadful! If I were only over my troubles I should not be so anxious, so nervous and unhappy, as I must say the anticipation of all these dreadful things makes me. Could I follow in the distance! But now that is impossible, and I have not a single older married person near me. When dear Louis goes, of course Westerweller goes too. I still pray and hope that there be no war; even if all the troops are assembled, I hope that the other Powers will interfere, and not look on whilst these brothers cut each others throats. It is such an unnatural, monstrous war!

The death of Lord and Lady Rivers is dreadful for their children, but how blessed for themselves! I hope Lady Caroline [Barrington] will pass by here, which will be a great pleasure to me, though she says she can but stop two days, as you wish her to be home by the 15th.

May 18th.

* * * How glad I am to hear that Lord Clarendon is still hopeful! Here as yet, though there is no distinct reason for it, save the repugnance of all to this civil war, all still hope to avoid the war. Every day we have occasion to hear how the Prussians detest this war--army and all--and there are constant rows, with the Landwehr in particular. Men of forty, who have families and homes to look after, are taken away with their sons; and those who have horses are also taken, with their horses: so that the wife and children sit at home, unable to do any thing for their land. It is ruining numbers, and murmurs get louder and louder. A revolution must break out if this continues. * * * I do pray _most fervently_ that the King will listen to the just advice, in no way derogatory to his dignity, of placing the hated question of the Duchies before the Confederation; but I fear he won’t. If he would only listen to that advice and disarm, all Germany would do it at once--only too gladly--forgetting all the losses in the happiness of peace restored. Forgive my stupid letter, but we live really so in the midst of these affairs, on which our existence will turn, that I can think of nothing else.

Austria can’t hold out much longer, and the country is getting very violent against the King and Bismarck. The Emperor is less able to concede and keep peace.

Now good-bye, dearest Mama. We are so grateful to you for taking the children, if any thing comes to pass.

May 22d.

* * * Any thing you hear of Vicky and Fritz, will you write it to me? * * * The cloud grows blacker every day, and the anxiety we all live in is very great. But I ought not to write to you to-day of such gloomy things, which, thank God, you only see and hear of from the other side of the water.

May 25th.

* * * The Duke and Duchess of Nassau were here yesterday. They, like me, are in such an unpleasant position, should it come to blows, which I still hope may be averted--for why should we harmless mortals be attacked?