In Her New Home. 1862-1865

“Our life is a very, very happy one. I have nothing on earth to wish for.... To be able to make a bright and comfortable home for my dear husband is my constant aim.”—(14th Feb.-1st March, 1864.)

1862.

Meanwhile sorrow had fallen on the Grand Ducal family of Hesse also. Some weeks before the Princess’ marriage (May 25), the Grand Duchess of Hesse (Princess of Bavaria) had died—a woman beloved for her amiable and generous qualities, deeply regretted by her husband, the Grand Duke Louis III., and mourned by all who knew her, high as well as low. Nevertheless, preparations had been made to give a brilliant reception to the newly-married pair. The whole country looked forward with anxiety to the arrival of the young Princess, of whom so much had been heard, and who, though English, was known to have a thoroughly sympathetic feeling for Germany.

The Prince and Princess made a short stay at Brussels, and arrived at Bingen, on the Hessian frontier, on the 12th of July.

A special train took them on to Mayence, where the first official reception took place. The Rhine was crossed in a gaily-decorated steamer, and at the last station before Darmstadt the Grand Duke and all the family received the Prince and Princess and accompanied them to Darmstadt.

At half-past four in the afternoon the young married couple made their state entry into the town, through streets decorated with triumphal arches, flags, and flowers, amidst the peals of bells and the enthusiastic cheers of the assembled crowds, receiving and acknowledging the many marks of respect and affection with which they were greeted.

A mounted guard of honor headed the procession. The schools, the different guilds, the choral societies, the Turnvereine (gymnastic societies), and thousands of town and country folk lined the streets through which the Prince and Princess passed.

The impression produced on every one by the young Princess’ grace and sweet maidenly beauty, and bright winning, yet truly dignified, manner, was very great, and inspired the fairest hopes of what she would prove in her new home. What her own first impressions of that home were are given in the letters which follow.

The circumstances of her new life were certainly very different from those to which she had been accustomed as an English Princess. What she may have felt more keenly, as time went on, in the small but often-recurring differences between English and German life, did not oppress her at first. She had determined to make herself at home in her husband’s country, and she soon contrived to stamp on every room in her house the impress of her fine taste. That house was of the most unpretending character, situated in a quiet quarter of the town, near the palace of Prince and Princess Charles of Hesse. They had few servants besides those who came with them from England.

A short visit to her uncle at Coburg, a lengthened stay at Auerbach,—where the Prince and Princess had a small country house lent them by the Grand Duke,—and excursions to Heidelberg and Carlsruhe, occupied the Summer months. In September they went to Rheinhardtsbrunn in Thuringia to meet the Queen, and it was then settled that they should spend the winter and spring in England with Her Majesty. The house the Prince and Princess were living in at Darmstadt was so small, that plans had at once to be made for a new palace of their own.

On the 10th of November they left Darmstadt, travelling by Coblenz and Cologne to Antwerp. Here the Queen’s yacht, “Victoria and Albert”, awaited them, and brought them to England, where they met with a most hearty reception from all classes.

Royal Yacht, July 9th.

Beloved Mama:—Before leaving the yacht I must send you a few lines to wish you once more good-bye, and to thank you again and again for all your kindness to us.

My heart was very full when I took leave of you and all the dear ones at home; I had not the courage to say a word,—but your loving heart understands what I felt.

Darmstadt, July 13th.

Yesterday, after we reached Bingen, all the Hessian officers of state received us. At every station we received fresh people, and had to speak to them. At Mayence also, the beautiful Austrian band played whilst we waited, in pouring rain, which only ceased as we reached Darmstadt. The station before, the Grand Duke, Prince and Princess Charles with their children, Prince Alexander and his wife, received us—all most kind and cordial.

At the station we were again received; the whole town so prettily decked out; the Bürger [Burgesses Escort] rode near our carriage; countless young ladies in white, and all so kind, so loyal; in all the speeches kind and touching allusions were made to you, and to our deep grief. I believe the people never gave so hearty a welcome. We two drove through the town; incessant cheering and showering of flowers. We got out at Prince and Princess Charles’ house, where the whole family was assembled.

We then went to our rooms, which are very small, but so prettily arranged, with such perfect taste, all by my own dear Louis; they look quite English.

We then drove to Bessungen for dinner en famille. * * *

We were listening to twelve Sängervereine [Choral Unions] singing together yesterday evening—two hundred people; it was most beautiful, but in pouring rain. Some came up-stairs dripping to speak to us. The Grand Duke gave me a fine diamond bracelet he and his wife had ordered for me, and showed me all over his rooms.

To-morrow we receive the Ständesherren [Princes and Counts] and the gentlemen of both Houses.

My thoughts, rather our thoughts, are constantly with you, beloved Mama. Please give my love to all at home; it is impossible to write to them all.

July 16th.

* * * It is extremely hot here. The last two days we rode out at eight in the morning in the wood, where the air is very pleasant, near the ground where the troops are drilled. On Monday we looked on, and the soldiers were so much flattered.

At half-past one on Monday we received the gentlemen of the Upper House, then the Lower House, then the Flügeladjutanten [aides-de-camp], then the Stadtvorstand [Town Council], then about seventy officers, then a deputation of the English here. All these people I had to speak to en grande toilette, and at four we drove to a large dinner at the Schloss. The Grand Duke led me, and I always sit near him.

Yesterday at three the whole family drove to Seeheim, a lovely place in the mountains, to dinner with the Grand Duke. In the two villages we passed, flowers were showered upon us, and the Pfarrer [clergyman] made a speech.

I am really deeply touched by the kindness and enthusiasm shown by the people, which is said to be quite unusual. They wait near the house to see us, and cheer constantly—even the soldiers.

We then drove for tea, which is always at eight, to Jugenheim to Prince Alexander, whose birthday it was, and did not get home till 10.

The whole family are very amiable toward me, and Prince Alexander is most clever and amusing.

Darling Louis is very grateful for your kind messages. We talk and think of you often, and then my heart grows very heavy. Away from home I cannot believe that beloved Papa is not there; all is so associated with him.

July 19th.

Beloved Mama:—Many thanks for your last kind letter, and all the news from home; dear Baby [Princess Beatrice] is the only one you have mentioned nothing of, and I think of her so often.

Some people are coming to us at one, and then the whole Ministerium [Administration]. It is really so difficult to find something to say to these people, and they stand there waiting to be spoken to.

Yesterday we received a deputation from Giessen, with a very pretty dressing-case they brought us as a present.

On Thursday we went incognito with Prince Alexander and his wife to Frankfort. The town is decked out most beautifully, and countless Schützen [riflemen] are walking about in their dress. We dined at the Palais and then sat in the balcony.

I have just taken leave of dear Lady Churchill and General Seymour.13 They have made themselves most popular here, and the people have been very civil to them.

Louis and I have begun reading “Westward Ho,” together.

The Grand Duke went all the way to Kranichstein for me the other day, and walked about till he was quite hot. He has forbidden my visiting the other places until his return, as he wishes to lead me about there himself. I do not see very much of the other relations save at meals; and, having our own carriages, we two drive together mostly alone. We have tea usually out of doors in some pretty spot we drive to.

These lines will find you in Windsor. I went out this morning and tried to find some of those pretty wreaths to send you, but could get none. Please put one in St. George’s 14 from me. It is the first time you go to that hallowed spot without me; but in thought and prayer I am with you. May God strengthen and soothe you, beloved Mama, and may you still live to find some ray of sunshine on your solitary path, caused by the love and virtue of his children, trying, however faintly, to follow his glorious example!

I do strive earnestly and cheerfully to do my duty in my new life, and to do all that is right, which is but doing what dear Papa would have wished.

July 20th.

Thousand thanks for your dear long letter of the 18th just received. How well do I understand your feelings! I was so sad myself yesterday, and had such intense longing after a look, a word from beloved Papa! I could bear it no longer. Yet how much worse is it not for you! You know, though, dear Mama, he is watching over you, waiting for you. The thought of the future is the one sustaining, encouraging point for all. “They who sow in tears shall reap in joy”; and the great joy will be yours hereafter, dear Mama, if you continue following that bright example. * * *

We usually get up about quarter or half-past seven, and take some coffee at eight. Then we either go out till ten or remain at home, and till twelve I write and arrange what I have to do.

At one, when we return from breakfast, we usually read together. I have still a great many people to see, and they usually come at two.

At four is dinner, and at half-past five we are usually back here, and occupy ourselves till six or seven, then drive out somewhere for tea at eight, walk about and return at a quarter or half-past ten. We do not waste our time, I assure you, and Louis has a good deal to do at this moment.

Mr. Theed’s bust of dear Papa must be very lovely. I am curious to hear what you think of Marochetti’s.15 It will be very sad for you to see.

A fortnight already I am here, and away from my dear home three weeks! How much I shall have to tell you when we meet. My own dear Mama, I do love you so much! You know, though silent, my love and devotion to you is deep and true. If I could relinquish part of my present happiness to restore to you some of yours, with a full heart would I do it; but God’s will be done! God sustain my precious mother! is the hourly prayer of her loving and sympathizing child.

July 24th.

* * * You tell me to speak to you of my happiness—our happiness. You will understand the feeling which made me silent towards you, my own clear bereaved Mother, on that point; but you are unselfish and loving and can enter into my happiness, though I could never have been the first to tell you how intense it is, when it must draw the painful contrast between your past and present existence. If I say I love my dear husband, that is scarcely enough—it is a love and esteem which increases daily, hourly; which he also shows to me by such consideration, such tender loving ways. What was life before to what it has become now? There is such blessed peace being at his side, being his wife; there is such a feeling of security; and we two have a world of our own when we are together, which nothing can touch or intrude upon. My lot is indeed a blessed one; and yet what have I done to deserve that warm, ardent love, which my darling Louis ever shows me? I admire his good and noble heart more than I can say. How he loves me, you know, and he will be a good son to you. He reads to me every day out of “Westward Ho,” which I think very beautiful and interesting.

This morning I breakfasted alone, as he went out with his regiment. I always feel quite impatient until I hear his step coming up-stairs, and see his dear face when he returns.

Yesterday, and the previous night, I thought of you constantly, and of our last journey together to dear Balmoral. Sad, painful though it was, I liked so much being with you, trying to bear some of your load of sorrow with you. From here I share all as if I were really by your side; and I think so many fervent prayers cannot be offered to a merciful loving God without His sending alleviation and comfort.

Please remember me to Grant, Brown, and all of them at home in dear Scotland, and tell them how much I wish, and Louis also, that we were there, changed though every thing is.

July 25th.

* * * People say we may still have the Palais, but I doubt it. I am going to tell the Grand Duke that we return to England in autumn (not only for your sake, but principally because I do not wish to incommode our parents any longer, and because in the winter we could not even receive people here).

The only thing I shall regret in our not remaining here is, that the people feel it so much, and they are most kind; but they will see and understand that it cannot be otherwise, and that it does not arise from ill will on our part.

* * * Cecile and Michael 16 were here yesterday, so kind and so full of real sympathy toward you, which they begged me to express to you. He has such warm feelings; and they admired and loved dear Papa, though they saw him but little.

Darmstadt, August 1st.

* * * My heart feels ready to burst when I think of such sorrow as yours. I pray my adored Louis may long be spared to me. If you only knew how dear, how loving he is to me, and how he watches over me, dear darling!

To-morrow we go to Coburg, which was an old promise. Dear Uncle sent only two days ago to say he left Coburg on the 5th, and would we not come before? You will understand that, happy beyond measure as I am to go there, a lump always comes into my throat when I think of it—going for the first time with Louis to dear Papa’s house, where but recently he showed us every thing himself.17 Dear Mama, I think I can scarcely bear it—the thought seems so hard and cruel. He told us as children so much of Coburg, spoke to us of it with such childlike affection, enjoyed so much telling us every anecdote connected with each spot; and now these silent spots seem to plead for his absence.

To see the old Baron [Stockmar] will be a great happiness, and that Louis should make his acquaintance.

Calenberg bei Coburg, August 4th.

Once more in dear Coburg, and you can fancy with what feelings. Every thing reminds me of beloved Papa and of our last happy visit.

We are living here, and yesterday we spent all the afternoon and dined at the Rosenau. It was a lovely day, and the view so beautiful. We went all over the house and walked about in the grounds. We walked to dear Papa’s little garden, and I picked two flowers there for you, which I enclose.

Every spot brought up the remembrance of something dear Papa had told us of his childhood; it made me so sad, I can’t tell you. Uncle Ernest was also sad, but so kind and affectionate, and they both seemed so pleased at our having come.

Every thing about dear Papa’s illness, and then of the sad end, I had to tell. I lived the whole dreadful time over again, and wonder, whilst I speak of it, that we ever lived through it.

At nine o’clock church service was in the pretty little chapel. Holzei read, and Superintendent Meyer preached a most beautiful sermon, the text being where our Saviour told his disciples they must become as a little child to enter into the kingdom of heaven. He spoke with his usual fervor, and it was most impressive. I saw him afterward, and he enquired very much after you.

We are going after breakfast to the Festung, and then Louis and I are going to see the dear Baron [Stockmar].

Darmstadt, August 6th.

Dear Beloved Mama:—Can you give me no ray of hope that you in some way, bodily or mentally, feel better? It makes my heart ache bitterly, to hear those sad accounts you give of yourself, though I well know what for you life without him must be! God comfort you! is my constant prayer.

We saw the dear old Baron for some time. The meeting was sad on both sides; he was very kind, but so desponding as to every thing! In England and abroad he looks at every thing in a black light, and was full of complaints about himself. He asked much after you, and is anxious to see you again.

August 9th.

Next Monday we are going to Auerbach, to live there for a little time. It lies in the Bergstrasse, and is very healthy. The Grand Duke allows us to inhabit one of the houses.

August 16th.

How I long to read what Mr. Helps has written about Papa! What can it be but beautiful and elevating, if he has rightly entered into the spirit of that pure and noble being?18

Oh, Mama! the longing I sometimes have for dear Papa surpasses all bounds. In thought he is ever present and near me; still we are but mortals, and as such at times long for him also. Dear, good Papa! Take courage, dear Mama, and feel strong in the thought that you require all your moral and physical strength to continue the journey which brings you daily nearer to Home and to Him! I know how weary you feel, how you long to rest your head on his dear shoulder, to have him to soothe your aching heart. You will find this rest again, and how blessed will it not be! Bear patiently and courageously your heavy burden, and it will lighten imperceptibly as you near him, and God’s love and mercy will support you. Oh, could my feeble words bring you the least comfort! They come from a trusting, true, and loving heart, if from naught else.

Auerbach, August 16th.

* * * We do feel for you so deeply and would wish so much to help you, but there is but One who can do that, and you know whom to seek. He will give you strength to live on till the bright day of reunion. * * *

Auerbach, August 21st.

* * * Our visit to Giessen 19 went off very well. The people were most loyal. We went to see the Gymnasts, and Louis walked about amongst them, which pleased them very much. He is very popular there, and I am very glad we both went, for it made a good impression.

We drove to Louis’ property, Stauffenberg, a beautiful (alas! ruined) castle, which by degrees he is having restored, and which will be a charming house for us, if it is finished, which can only be done gradually.

Auerbach, August 23d.

* * * Try and gather in the few bright things you have remaining and cherish them, for though faint, yet they are types of that infinite joy still to come. I am sure, dear Mama, the more you try to appreciate and to find the good in that which God in His love has left you, the more worthy you will daily become of that which is in store. That earthly happiness you had is indeed gone forever, but you must not think that every ray of it has left you. You have the privilege, which dear Papa knew so well how to value, in your exalted position, of doing good and living for others, of carrying on his plans, his wishes into fulfilment, and as you go on doing your duty, this will, this must, I feel sure, bring you peace and comfort. Forgive me, darling Mama, if I speak so openly; but my love for you is such that I cannot be silent, when I long so fervently to give you some slight comfort and hope in your present life.

I have known and watched your deep sorrow with a sympathizing, though aching heart. Do not think that absence from you can still that pain. My love for you is strong, is constant; I would like to shelter you in my arms, to protect you from all future anxiety, to still your aching longing! My own sweet Mama, you know I would give my life for you, could I alter what you have to bear!

Trust in God! ever and constantly. In my life I feel that to be my stay and my strength, and the feeling increases as the days go on. My thoughts of the future are bright, and this always helps to make the minor worries and sorrows of the present dissolve before the warm rays of that light which is our guide.

Auerbach, August 25th.

* * * To-day is the Ludwigstag, a day kept throughout the country, and on which every Ludwig receives presents, etc.; but we spend it quite quietly. Louis’ parents and the others are coming to breakfast, and remain during the day. Louis is out riding. We always get up early. He rides whilst I write, and we then walk together and breakfast somewhere out of doors.

We went to the little church here yesterday, which is very old, and they sang so well.

I drew out of doors also, as it was very fine; but it is very difficult, as it is all green, and the trees are my misfortune, as I draw them so badly. I play sometimes with Christa 20; she plays very well.

August 26th [Prince Consort’s Birthday].

With a heavy heart do I take up my pen to write to you to-day—this dear day, now so sad, save through its bright recollections. I cannot bear to think of it now, with no one to bring our wishes to, with that painful silence where such mirth and gaiety used to be. It is very hard to bear, and the first anniversary is like the commencement of a new epoch in our deep sorrow.

When your dear present was brought to me this morning, I could not take my eyes from it, though they were blinded with tears. Oh, those beautiful, those loved features! There wants but his kind look and word to make the picture alive! Thousand thanks for it, dear Mama.

How trying this day will be for you! My thoughts are constantly with you, and I envy the privilege the others have in being near you and being able to do the least thing for you.

The sun shines brightly in the still blue sky; how bright and peaceful it must be where our dear Spirit dwells, if it is already so beautiful here.

September 5th.

* * * Two days ago Louis and I went to Worms. Whilst he went to his regiment, which the Grand Duke came to inspect, I went to the Dom, which is most beautiful; and then went in a little boat on the Rhine, which was charming. It took us, driving, an hour and a half from Auerbach to Worms.

Auerbach, September 7th.

* * * For Louis’ birthday we are going to Darmstadt; it is getting cold and damp here, and the house is small. We take our meals in another house, and it is cold to walk over there of an evening. Think of us on the 12th. It was such a happy day last year.21

I have such Heimweh [yearning] after beloved Papa; it is dreadful sometimes when I think of him and of our home. But he is so happy in his bright home, could we but catch a glimpse of him there. Dear Grandmama [the Duchess of Kent], too, is constantly in my thoughts lately. I can see her before me—so dear, kind, and merry. As time goes on, such things only mingle themselves more vividly with one’s usual life; for it is their life which is nearest us again, and not their death, which casts such a gloom over their remembrance.

Auerbach, September 11th.

* * * How beautiful Heidelberg is! we went all over the Castle, and with such glorious weather. There is one side still standing, built and decorated by a pupil of Michael Angelo, which dear Papa admired so much. How do I miss not being able to talk to beloved Papa of all I see, hear, feel, and think! His absence makes such a gap in my existence.

Darmstadt, October 13th.

* * * Our visit to Baden was charming, and dear Fritz and Louise 22 so kind! Louis and I were both delighted by our visit. The Queen, the Duchess of Hamilton, and Grand Duchess Hélène were there, besides dear Aunt [Princess Hohenlohe], and Countess Blücher. The two latter, dear and precious as ever.

We left yesterday morning; spent three hours with Grand Duchess Sophie, who is the most agreeable, clever, amiable person one can imagine. It gave me real pleasure to make her acquaintance. Aunt Feodore’s house, though small, is really very pretty, and her rooms are hung full of pictures. I saw Winterhalter also, in his lovely new house, which he has gone and sold, saying it was too good for him. He has painted a most beautiful picture of the Grand Duchess Hélène—quite speaking.

* * * I am going to make my will before leaving. I do not like leaving (for England) without having done something.

Darmstadt, October 17th.

First of all, thousand thanks from Louis and me for your having allowed dear Arthur 23 to come with us. I cannot tell you what pleasure it has been to me to have that dear child a little bit. He has won all hearts, and I am so proud when they admire my little brother, who is a mixture of you and adored Papa.

Darmstadt, October 23d.

* * * We intend probably leaving this on Saturday, the 8th, remaining until the 10th at Coblenz, from whence we go direct in eleven hours and three-quarters to Antwerp, leaving Antwerp the morning of the 12th, to reach Windsor that evening or the next morning.

We always continue reading together, and have read Hypatia, a most beautiful, most interesting, and very learned and clever book, which requires great attention.

I have the great bore to read the newspapers every day, which I must do; see Dr. Becker 24 from eleven to twelve; then I write, and have constantly people to see, so that I have scarcely any time to draw or to play. I also read serious book to myself.

Louis would like to go to Leeds and Manchester from Osborne, as he wants to go to London from Windsor. I shall accompany him sometimes.

October 25th.

As you come later to Windsor, we shall not leave till the 10th, remain the 11th with the Queen, then go direct to Antwerp. If the weather is bad we shall wait. Then on the 14th or 15th we shall be at Windsor, which we prefer to coming to Osborne. We hope this will suit you.

All are full of lamentations at our departure, and for so long, which is most natural; but they are very kind. We have a family dinner in our little room to-day, which is large enough for a few people. The Grand Duke has quite lost his heart to Arthur, and Bertie [Prince of Wales] pleased him also very much.

In talking together last night, Louis said what I feel so often, that he always felt as if it must come right again some time, and we should find dear Papa home again. In another home we shall.

October 30th.

The Grand Duke was quite overcome when I gave him the photographs, and with Baby’s [Princess Beatrice’s] he is quite enchanted, and wishes me to tell you how grateful he is, and how much he thanks you. You cannot think how pleased he was, and the more so that you sent them him. He has a warm heart and feels very much for you, and takes a warm interest in all my brothers and sisters.

I am glad you are going to see dear Fritz of Baden; he will be so pleased. We shall see Louise at Coblenz.

The plans for our house have come, and even the simplest is far above what we poor mortals can build.

November 6th.

* * * Yesterday, Mrs. Combe, widow of George Combe and daughter of Mrs. Siddons, came to see me and was with me some time. She is a clever, amiable old lady. It gave me such pleasure to see and talk with her. Will you tell Sir James Clark so, as she is an old friend of his.

1863.

Each visit to her old home seemed to give fresh life to Princess Alice, and it can therefore be easily understood how great her happiness was at being again under her mother’s roof and care, there to await the realization of her fondest hopes.

It was also a great comfort to the Princess to spend the first anniversary of her father’s death with her family around her.

On the 18th of December, 1862, the remains of the Prince Consort were placed in a temporary sarcophagus, in the centre of the newly-erected mausoleum at Frogmore in the presence of the Prince of Wales, Prince Arthur, Prince Leopold, and Prince Louis of Hesse.

Prince Louis occupied much of his time during his long stay in England in making a number of interesting visits to the chief industrial centres, and to military arsenals and depots.

Princess Alice met with a carriage accident on the last day of the old year, which happily was followed by no bad consequences.

On the 10th of March, 1863, the Prince of Wales was married to the Princess Alexandra of Denmark, at St. George’s Chapel, Windsor Castle, in the presence of the whole Royal family. It was the first Royal marriage which had been celebrated in that chapel since the marriage of Henry I., in 1122.

Soon after, on Easter Sunday, the 5th of April, 1863, Princess Louis of Hesse gave birth to a daughter at Windsor Castle. This event was made known next day at Darmstadt by the firing of twenty-one guns. The best possible news continued to be received of the well-doing of mother and child.

The little Princess was christened on the 27th of April, at Windsor, by the Hessian Court chaplain, Bender. She received the names of Victoria Alberta Elizabeth Matilda. The Princes Alexander and Henry of Hesse represented the Grand Ducal family at the christening.

Princess Alice completed her recovery during a stay at Osborne in May, and while there was able to accompany the Queen on a visit to the Military Hospital at Netley.

After a short stay in London, Prince and Princess Louis of Hesse and their little daughter returned to Darmstadt. They spent the summer months at Kranichstein, a shooting-lodge near Darmstadt, belonging to the Grand Duke. The Princess employed her time in becoming better acquainted with her adopted country, its inhabitants, their customs, and ways of thinking.

The Congress of German Potentates and Princes at Frankfort, in August, brought the Princess in contact with many crowned heads. She proved herself her father’s true child in regard to politics. The Prince Consort had always longed for an united Germany, with Prussia at its head, and a Liberal constitution. Princess Alice’s letters will show how truly German her feelings were in the Schleswig-Holstein question, which at that time, owing to the death of King Frederick VII. of Denmark, and the claims made by his successor, King Christian IX., to the succession in the Duchies also, assumed a European interest, and led to consequences of permanent importance in the history of Europe. The accounts of the manner in which the Prince and Princess Louis endeavored to fulfil their social duties throw a significant light upon the way in which the young Princess discharged her duties as the mistress of her home.

In August the Princess met Queen Victoria at Coburg; and afterward had the happiness of receiving Her Majesty and her sisters Hélèna, Louise and Beatrice, and her brother Alfred, on a short visit at Kranichstein.

A few weeks later the Prince and Princess with their child joined the Queen at Balmoral, where nearly all the members of the Royal family were assembled.

In November they returned to Darmstadt, where, during their absence, the new palace had made rapid progress, and was roofed in. It was built on a site given by the Grand Duke, and after plans designed by the Princess herself. The arrangement of the interior was entirely carried out by herself in a manner both practical and artistic.

In December, Prince Louis’ only sister, Anna, was engaged to be married to the Grand Duke of Mecklenburg-Schwerin, an event which gave great satisfaction at the time. The Princess spent her first Christmas in Germany this year—1863.

Marlborough House, May 14th.

Dearest Mama:—Our parting this morning was most painful to both of us—from you to whom we owe so much, and whom we love so dearly.

May God comfort and support you, beloved Mama, on your sad and weary pilgrimage!

Marlborough House, May 16th.

I could not get your dear face and your sweet voice out of my mind for an instant, and everywhere I thought I must see you or dear Papa. It seemed so strange; I had the tears in my eyes all day. The worst was the opera, for I had never been without you or Papa, and all was the same and yet so different. It was very trying to me; and so will the drawing-room be to-day. * * * I saw Lady Jocelyn, Duchess of Manchester, Sir Charles Locock, and Lord Alfred Paget, to show them baby, and all find her like what we all were. How much we have to thank for in her name. Your affection for her and all you have done for her have touched us more than I can say. It seemed to me quite wrong to take her from you.

On Wednesday, Alix [Princess of Wales] and myself go to the studios. This morning we drove in Battersea Park.

May 19th.

* * * The drawing-room was long, but Alix and I were not so tired, considering the length of time, for we stood, excepting twenty minutes, in the middle, when there was a block and the people could not come.

In to-day’s letter you mention again your wish that we should soon be with you again. Out of the ten months of our married life five have been spent under your roof, so you see how ready we are to be with you. Before next year Louis does not think we shall be able to come; at any rate when we can we shall, and I hope we shall be able to see you for a day or two in Germany to divide the time.

Darmstadt, May 23d.

* * * Baby 25 has been so much admired, and all the clothes you gave her.

Darmstadt, May.

I sha’n’t have time to write more than a few words, as we have just returned from church and are going to Mayence till Wednesday. The Grand Duke came all the way to Kranichstein yesterday to go about with us, and see how to arrange it comfortably. He is most kind, and sat an hour with me.

We have received two deputations this morning, and my things, which ought to have been here before us, only arrived to-day.

Mayence, June 2d.

There was a large dinner yesterday; the Nassaus dined here, and this morning we have been to Biebrich. The Duke and Duchess, Nicolas Nassau, Marianne of Prussia,26 her sister the Duchess of Altenburg, and Landgrave William were there. They were most kind and civil. We hurried back in time for dinner. The Grand Duke is most kind, has taken me everywhere about himself—into the Dom, into several shops, etc.

Now when I return I shall have to unpack and pack again for Kranichstein, and arrange the house there, which has not been lived in for eighty years, so that for writing I have barely a moment.

I have good accounts of baby, whom all the old gentlemen run out of their houses to look at, when she walks in the garden, and try to tell Moffat [her nurse] what they think of her, but she of course understands nothing.

Darmstadt, June 3d.

I write to you to-day, as Louis is going for all day to Worms to-morrow, and I am going to Jugenheim to Uncle Alexander. It is already warm here, and we are going in a day or two into the country.

The Queen of Prussia passes through here to-day, and I shall probably hear from her what her intentions are about England. I have received a splendid bracelet from the Empress of Russia—for baby’s picture. She is said to be far from well.

Darmstadt, June 6th.

* * * Louis was away from four o’clock yesterday morning till eleven at night. He was at Worms with Uncle Louis. Tuesday is his birthday, and we shall very likely go on Monday to Mayence, as Uncle Louis is always wishing for us.

I took a walk at Jugenheim yesterday with Uncle Alexander, his wife and children, of more than two hours, and it was so beautiful, and numberless little birds singing. Uncle Alexander was so grateful for all your kindness, and was above all so charmed with you. It always makes me so happy to be able to talk about you, and to hear you appreciated as you ought to be, darling Mama.

June 8th.

* * * Baby sits up quite strong, and looks about and laughs. She has got on wonderfully, and she is so good. She was an hour with us yesterday evening wide awake, and so good. She is as well and as strong as any child could be. To-day we go to Mainz, and to-morrow night from thence to Kranichstein. All our beds must be moved meanwhile, as there are none in the house.

Kranichstein, June 12th.

Louis went at six this morning to Darmstadt for the inspection of his regiment by Uncle Louis, Princess Charles’ birthday is on the 18th. The Grand Duke will be at Friedberg, and we are to go for the day, which will be rather tiring, as it is a good way by rail and back again, and we have to wait an hour at Frankfort.

Louis is going to take his seat in the Chamber on the 23d. He was unable to do so last year, as we left for England two days before the time.

June 19th.

* * * You ask me again if I occupy myself much and seriously? Not a moment of the day is wasted, and I have enough to read and to think about: what with the many and different papers, and interesting books. Dr. Becker comes daily, and I have a good deal to look after.

We have a dinner to-day—Prince and Princess Charles, Uncle Adalbert, Anna, William, and the suites.

June 23d.

* * * You will be amused to hear that I have taken a little black (a Malay) into my service. He is a dear good boy, was brought over two years ago by a gentleman, to whom he was given away by his own parents as a mark of gratitude for some service done. This man has had him here two years, but has never had him taught any thing. He has no religion, and can neither read nor write. I am going to have him taught, and, later, christened. He is very intelligent, thirteen years old.

We shall remain here for the present; we go about a good deal seeing things near by, and then it is the first time we have our household and stable, so that on account of Haushaltung [housekeeping], etc., we are going to remain here for a little time. It is very pleasant besides, and constant moving is far too expensive for us. We give dinners here, which are also useful, as I know so few people. Some of the Ständesherren are coming to-morrow, and later some of the Abgeordneten [Deputies] of the Second Chamber, which will give us an opportunity of making the acquaintance of some of the Liberals in the country.

I cannot get rid of my rheumatism, which is so unpleasant.

Louis is very busy; he reads to me sometimes out of Lord Macaulay’s last volume of the English History, which I had not yet read. Twice a week Louis takes drill with his cavalry regiment, and he has to ride out at six in the morning, as it is some way off.

June 27th.

* * * I bathe every morning and swim about; there is a nice little bathing-house.

I hear baby shrieking out of doors; she does not cry very much, but she is very passionate. She was vaccinated two days ago by Dr. Weber, and I am going to be done next week; the small-pox is at Darmstadt, and a man died of it yesterday. Louis is very industrious and busy; he has all the papers of the Stände [State papers] to read and look through, and reads other useful books, besides papers and other things which he must read. He wrote to Lord Derby to express his thanks for having been made a Doctor at Oxford. He takes a great deal of exercise, riding, walking, rowing, swimming. We get up at six every morning, and go to bed after ten.

Louis has always a good deal to do at home, and a good many things which would never be expected of him in England. He knows the necessity and importance of working. I hope next month Uncle Ernest 27 will come to us for a day on his way back from Homburg. He has asked us for a few days to the Calenberg whilst you are in Germany, and then in the winter we hope to be for a few days at Gotha.

The Lützows,28 and Miss Seymour dine with us to-day.

June 30th.

Lady Fife is at Homburg, and is coming to dine with us. To-morrow all the family and some other people come to dinner. We have seen a good many people; we receive in the morning or for dinner.

Dalwigk gave a large soirée in the woods, with a supper for us, last night. All the Ständesherren and Foreign Ministers were there.

To-morrow is our dear wedding-day. With what gratitude do I look back to that commencement of such happiness, and such real and true love, which even daily increases in my beloved husband. Oh, may we not be deprived of it too soon! I admire and respect him for his true-hearted, generous, unselfish, and just nature! Oh, dear Mama, if you only knew how excellent he is! I wish I were good like him, for he is free from any selfish, small, or uncharitable feelings. You should see how he is beloved by all his people; our servants adore him. I open my heart to you, who have so warm and sympathizing a heart, that even in the midst of such deep grief and sorrow as yours will listen to what your children, who love you dearly, long to say.

Our little one is grown so pretty; she has little pink cheeks, and is so fat and so good-humored. I often think her like you when she smiles.

July 2d.

You can fancy how much we thought of this day last year, and of you and all the love and kindness you showed us then. How truly we both love you, and, when we can, how willingly we shall come to your side, and be of the least use to you, you know, for I feel for you and with you, more than words can describe.

Our first large dinner yesterday went off very well. We make our arrangements, sitting, etc., all as you and dear Papa had it, which is new here, but I am happy to say, approved of. We always dine at four. Baby appeared afterward, and really never cries when she is shown, but smiles, and seems quite amused. She is immensely admired, particularly for her healthy appearance and fine large eyes. I really think her like you now; she is very much changed, and, when she sits up, looks so pretty and dear.

To-day we have again a dinner. There is a fine dining-room and drawing-room here, so that we can see a good many people.

July 4th.

Shortly we are going to pay Prince Solms-Lich, the president of the First Chamber, a visit. He is very liberal on the whole, rich, and a nice old gentleman. He knew Grandpapa in the year 1820, also Uncle Charles, Uncle Hohenlohe, Aunt Feodore, and Eliza. Lady Fife, Annie, and Mr. Corbett from Frankfort are coming to us to-day.

The Grand Duke of Weimar was here yesterday for dinner at the Schloss.

What you said about Germany is so true; and Louis has the real good of his country near at heart. They always have to vote for or against what the Second Chamber brings forward, and the other day a vote was sent in from the Liberals for an alteration of a press law. Only one voice in the whole Chamber was for it, which was Louis’, and this produced a very good effect among the Liberals. He is no coward, and will say what he thinks, if it is necessary, even if all are against him.

Kranichstein, July 15th.

To-day is Uncle Alexander’s birthday, and we have to drive for dinner to Seeheim. To-morrow morning we leave for Lich at five in the morning.

Two nights ago a horrid and schauerliches [appalling] event took place here. I went out about eight down to the pond, which is close to the house, to meet Louis. I met an odd-looking pale man, who neither bowed nor looked about, walking slowly along; and when I joined Louis he asked me if I had seen him, as he had been prowling about all the afternoon. We stopped a little longer, when at the end our grooms were running. We rowed on to see what was the matter, and on coming near, a body was floating in the water, the face already quite blue and lifeless. I recognized him at once. Louis and the others with trouble fished him out and laid him in our boat to bring him on shore. It was very horrid to see. We brought him on shore, tried all means to restore him to life, but of no avail. He was carried into the stable. He had committed suicide, and we heard afterward that he was a very bad character. You can fancy that it was very unpleasant to me, to have that disfigured corpse next me in the boat; and it haunts me now,—for a violent death leaves frightful traces, so unlike any thing else. But half or quarter of an hour before, I had passed that man in life, and so shortly after to see him floating by quite lifeless! It brings death before one in its worst form, when one sees a bad man die by his own hand. The indifference with which the other people treated it, and dragged him along, was also revolting to one’s feelings; but one must be manly, and not mind those things; yet I own it made me rather sick, and prevented my sleep that night.

I am glad we are going away for a few days; the change will be pleasant.

It was such a pleasure to me to have seen dear Lady Frances Baillie the other day, and she was looking well, though she is very thin.

You kindly gave me our dear Papa’s Farm-book for the Farmers’ Union here; the people are so touched and pleased. I send you the letter of thanks to read.

Lich, July 18th.

* * * We leave to-morrow afternoon for Frankfort, and the next day we go to Homburg on the way home. The Prince and Princess are most kind and civil; they have a fine Schloss, and are rich. The latter is clever and amiable, and the young people—their nephews and nieces—are very nice and very kind. It is a fine, rich country, and they seem very much beloved. The sister of the Princess, Princess Solms-Laubach, née Büdingen, is here also. Her husband was in the Prussian service, and they lived at Bonn whilst dear Papa was there. He came to see them and to spend the evening there very often. She told me how handsome he then was, and how much praised and liked by all. She asked after Rath Florschütz,29 and Eos,30 and if dear Papa continued later on to be so sleepy of an evening, as he was even then.

Kranichstein, July 21st.

Our visit at Lich went off very well. Everything is so vornehm [in such good style] and so well arranged.

July 23d.

We are going to give Heinrich 31 a rendezvous somewhere, perhaps at Kreuznach, which is not very far. On August 1st, we are going to the north of the country,—a part which I do not know,—and on the way we stop at Giessen, where we have been invited to see an agricultural exhibition. On Monday we give a tea and a dance—between fifty and sixty people. The advantage of this place is its nearness to Darmstadt, and that there is room enough to receive people.

The Russian and French ambassadors, with their wives, and Mr. Corbett and Lord Robert S. Kerr, dine with us to-day.

July 27th.
I have no news to give. To-night we give our first large party—seventy people.
August 1st.

Yesterday we were all day at Rumpenheim: so kindly received! The Landgrave, his two brothers, Frederic and George, the Dowager Duchess of Mecklenburg-Strelitz, her daughter Duchess Caroline, Aunt Cambridge, Mary, Augusta, and Adolphus; Fritz and Anna of Hesse and good Princess Louise, kindness itself. Aunt Cambridge was very amiable, and spoke most tenderly of you. To-morrow morning Louis goes to Oberhessen, where I join him in two days. I go to see Uncle Alexander at Jugenheim; go on Monday to Friedberg, where there is an asylum for blind people, of which I am Protectorin [Patroness]. I go to see it, and sleep at the Castle. The next day I stop on my road to see Marburg, and shall be in the evening at Alsfeld, where I find Louis. The next day I go on to Herr von Riedesel at Altenburg, where I breakfast, and I dine and spend the night with another Riedesel family at Eisenbach. Louis joins me that evening. The next day we go on though the country, as the people are anxious to see us, and the country is very beautiful. On Thursday and Friday we shall be at Giessen, on Saturday at home.

Giessen, August 7th.

I am very hot and tired; we have only just reached this place, and have to go out almost immediately to see the animals and machines.

Our journey has been most prosperous, but rather tiring, and the heat quite fearful. We were most kindly received everywhere. English, Hessian, German flags everywhere, and Gesangvereine of an evening.

Last night we slept at Schotten, and posted from thence to-day through a lovely, rich, wooded, and mountainous district, the Vogelsberg.

We have had but one room everywhere, and have remained only long enough at a place to see it, so that writing has been impossible. To-morrow evening we return to Kranichstein, and then I will write to you an account of every thing. Here, with no time, and with such heat and noise, it is impossible.

Kranichstein, August 9th.

* * * We went, when I last wrote to you at Giessen, to see the different machines at work, in a crowd close round us and a smothering heat. It was interesting, though, in spite of all. The people cheered and were very civil. That day, at the meeting of the agriculturists, Count Laubach told me dear Papa’s book lay on the table, and is of the greatest use and interest. I am so pleased to have been the first in Germany to make known something of Papa’s knowledge in this science, one of the many in which dear Papa excelled. The people are so grateful to you for having sent it. In the evening the president and some other scientific gentlemen came to tea with us. I was so glad to see how pleased the people were at the interest Louis takes in these things. A procession was really very pretty; large carts, decorated with the different agricultural emblems, peasants in their different costumes—it was something quite new to me.

At Marburg, I saw in the beautiful church the grave of St. Elizabeth, the castle where she lived, and many other things which Kingsley mentions in his “Saint’s Tragedy.”

This week the Emperor of Austria and other potentates came to Frankfort. The King of Prussia has refused, so that now, as it is not a universal meeting, it will not be what it might have been.

August 19th.

* * * The Emperor came all the way to Kranichstein to pay us a visit, and is very amiable, though not very talkative. Archduke William, King Max, and the Duke of Brunswick were also here yesterday.

We saw the procession to the Römer from a small room, already filled by twelve Rumpenheimers! It was a very interesting sight.

August 21st.

* * * This evening all the crowned heads nearly are coming to the opera, and the Rumpenheimers very likely also. Uncle Ernest comes to us for dinner, and we take him with us.

August 24th.

* * * We dined at Homburg yesterday afternoon with the old hereditary Grand Duchess of Schwerin, Louis’ great-aunt, who is eighty-six, and as fresh and lively as ever. The Duke of Altenburg and the Grand Duke of Schwerin were with us, and both of them wish to have their respectful duty sent to you.

[During the months of September and October the Princess was in England on a visit to the Queen.]

Buckingham Palace, October 28th.

Thousand thanks for your dear lines! How sad that we should be reduced to writing again! It was such a happiness to speak to you, and in return to hear all you had to say,—to try and soothe you, and try to make your burden lighter. I always feel separation from you so much, for I feel for and with you, more, oh, far more, than I can ever express! I can only say again, trust, hope, and be courageous, and every day will bring something in the fulfilment of all your great duties, which will bring you peace, and make you feel that you are not forsaken, that God has heard your prayer, felt for you, as a loving Father would, and that dear Papa is not far from you.

We remain here to-night, as Louis had a bad sick-headache, toothache, and so on, and he must rest. We leave to-morrow afternoon.

Affie [Prince Alfred] and William (of Hesse) were very well, and seem quite happy together. Affie sends love, and William his respects.

Darmstadt, November 2d.

Before going out (half-past six) I begin these lines. You will have heard what an awful passage we had. Christa and I had one of those cabins near the paddle-box, and good old May 32 was with us. Each wave that broke on the ship Christa and I groaned, and May exclaimed: “Oh, goodness, gracious me! what an awful sea! Lord bless you, child, I hope it is all safe!” and so on. If we had not been so wretched, and had not looked so awful with those mountains of waves about us, I should have laughed. All the maids and Moffat were sick. Baby was sick all over her nice new shawl, which was a great grief.

Uncle Louis and Uncle Gustav received us at the station. My parents-in-law don’t return till Wednesday. Yesterday Uncle Louis gave us a large dinner, and to-day he dines en famille in our house with Prince Adalbert of Bavaria, Uncle Gustav,33 and ourselves.

I was quite done up by this journey. At four in the morning we changed carriages at Cologne, and did not get here till past twelve o’clock—twenty-nine hours under way.

November 5th.

* * * Yesterday evening Louis and I were at a chemical lecture, which was very interesting, by young Hallnachs, the brother of the one Becker spoke to you about.

Our house is getting on very well, and we are often there.

Louis is very grateful and touched by your kind message, and kisses your hand. He is often away for those tiresome Jagden [shooting-parties] from five in the morning till eight at night, as it is some way off.

November 14th.

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.

* * * 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.

* * * 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.

We both thank you for your kind wishes for our wedding-day. It was rainy and not fine, but we spent it very happily indoors—Affie and Mary with us. Dr. Weber now wishes (as we should have to go from Blankenberghe back to Coburg, and then again all the journey back), that I should not bathe at all this year, as all the good would be undone by the hurried journey, and the excitement of the sea air might not be good for Victoria. We are all to go instead for four weeks to Switzerland, beginning with Rigi Kaltbad, and this we greatly prefer. We go into the mountains at once for the bracing air. On Saturday until Tuesday we go to Baden for the christening of the baby. We both are god-parents.

Kranichstein, July 10th.

*** Ella already says, since some time, “Papa” and “Mama,” and calls herself, and crawls, and is very forward and merry—such a contrast to Victoria, who is so pale and fair, and now thin, for Ella’s eyes are so dark blue, and her hair of such a rich brown, that you would never take the little things for sisters. They are very fond of each other, and so dear together, that they give us much pleasure. I would not change them for boys, if I could; this little pair of sisters is so nice, and they can be such friends to each other.

I hope you will be comfortable here, but we are much annoyed not to be able to be there to receive you. None of the family will be here, save perhaps my mother-in-law with poor Fritz Schwerin, who is expected then.

We mean to start on the 25th, and we go as private people, on account of the expense. We are only going to Oberland, and sha’n’t go very far about.

Kranichstein, July 17th.

*** It was 95° in the shade yesterday at eight in the morning, and I think the heat increases. Dr. Lyon Playfair lunched with us yesterday; he is so charming. To-morrow morning at five we go to Bonn for the day, and shall be there before ten. The heat is too great to go at any other time. We start next Tuesday evening, and on Wednesday shall be on the Rigi.

This morning at six o’clock we rode to the exercising—I on a new horse, for two hours and a half over sand without any shade.

Mary [Duchess of Teck] has been so kind as to give us a boat, which we expect shortly. It is to be christened “Mary Adelaide,” after her.

July 24th.

Many thanks for your letter, and for the sad account of Victoria Brant’s 56 death. It is quite shocking, and she was my dearest friend of those contemporaries, and the one I saw the most of. “In the midst of life we are in death”; and the uncertainty of all earthly things makes life a real earnest, and no dream. Our whole life should be a preparation and expectation for eternity. Merry as she was, she was yet very serious and thoughtful; but what a loss she will be to her poor parents and husband!

I have made all arrangements for your comfort here. I own I do not like your coming here when we and the whole family are away—it looks so odd! I forgot to tell you, in answer to your question about Ella’s name, that she of course must be called “Elizabeth,” entre nous only “Ella,” for she bears my dear mama-in-law’s name.

Rigi Kaltbad, August 1st.

I am enchanted, delighted with this magnificent scenery. Oh, how you would admire it! When I am sketching, I keep telling Louis how much more like you would make the things; one can always recognize the places when you draw them.

We left Darmstadt at eight Wednesday morning, the 26th, slept at Basel that night, and we got there early enough to see the fine church in a thunder storm. The next day we only went to Lucerne, as the weather was not fine enough to ascend the Rigi. It was a lovely afternoon, and the lake of a marvellous green color. The Pilatus was quite clear for a few hours. The next morning we two, the children, Moffat, Harriet the nursery-maid, Logoz and wife, Jäger, and Beck, our whole party, started in a very crowded steamer for Wäggis. Splendid weather, though cloudy. We then, on horses and in chairs carried by three or six men, made our ascent along a winding, narrow, steep path, below rocks, past ravines, where little châlets are situated, and all over the green pasture cows and goats feeding with bells round their necks. Westerweller was here when we arrived; he acts courier, and when we make long expeditions remains with the children. This is a very roomy hotel, crammed full of people, among them some odd Austrian ladies whom we see below walking on the terrace—very smart, and smoking. We two have been on mules with a guide—such a funny man, who was a soldier at Naples, and was at the siege of Gaeta—on all the expeditions hereabout.

To-morrow we leave, and go till Monday to Buochs, on the other side of the lake; then to Engelberg, where Uncle Adalbert and his wife will be. The children are well; Victoria very troublesome, but Ella good and amiable as ever. As I am writing at the window, the clouds cover the lake and the lower mountains, and I can only see the quite high ones with glaciers, which are of such a splendid shape.

The color of the Scotch mountains is, I think, finer; but here they are, first of all, so enormously high, and then such fine shapes, and the mountains are studded with trees and rocks down below, and of a green color.

The air is very light and cold, but the sun intense. We are going off for the day again on our mules, so I must close. Of course many funny incidents take place, which I reserve to tell you when we meet.

I do hope the heat will be over for your journey, and that it will be fine when you are at our dear Kranichstein. Marie Grancy will be there to receive you, and do any thing which is required.

Engelberg, Hotel Titlis, August 8th.

These lines I send by Becker, and hope you will receive them at Kranichstein. * * * I hope you found all you wanted in the rooms, and that the meals were as you like them. I ordered all, and wrote all down before leaving, as I know what you like.

We were for some days at Buochs, a very pretty village; and we lived in three detachments in different common Swiss houses, very comfortable on the whole, but not smelling very nice, so that I could scarcely eat while we were there.

Yesterday morning, in a very funny two-seated carriage with one horse, we left, the children and servants following in a bigger carriage. A nearly four hours’ drive through the most beautiful scenery, up a narrow valley through which the Aa runs, brought us here. The last two hours are a steep ascent on the side of a precipice; beautiful vegetation through the wood all the way upward; view on the high mountains with snow and glaciers close by. On coming to the top there is a narrow and lovely green valley studded with peasants’ cottages, and in the centre a Benedictine Abbey, near which our hotel is situated. The valley is of very green grass; the tops of the mountains quite rocky, with snow. Lower down, and skirting the valley, which is quite shut in by the hills, fine trees; several very high waterfalls, in the style of the Glassalt (near Balmoral), only much higher. This Alpine valley is said to give the most perfect idea of a Swiss valley up in the mountains. One can ascend the Titlis; but it is said to be dangerous, so we sha’n’t attempt it. We are very careful, and Louis won’t undertake any thing risky. The scenery seen from the carriage merely is so splendid that one may well be content with that. Unfortunately, to-day it pours, and it is very cold. The children are very well. The journey has really done Victoria good, and she begins to have an appetite, which with her is a very rare thing.

The next place we go to is Meyringen. We mean to ride there over the Joch Pass, but the children must go back the same way to get round, as there is no other way out of this valley. We will leave them then with Westerweller, and go to the Grindelwald, Interlaken, etc.; and then return home by the 29th probably. The children are living in a cottage here also.

Pension Belle Vue, Tracht bei Brienz, August 14th.

* * * Our ride from Engelberg over the Joch Pass to Meyringen was quite beautiful; but a worse way than any we have ever been out on in Scotland. We were eleven hours on the road, and the sun was very hot, and the walking on these steep bad paths made one still hotter; but we enjoyed it very much, and I never saw any thing grander or more magnificent. * * * I have made little scribbles on the way. * * * To-day we two with two horses were to have walked and ridden to the Grindelwald, over the Rosenlaui glacier, and to have gone on the next day to Interlaken, but the weather is so bad that it is impossible, and, not being satisfied with the prices, etc., at the hotel of Meyringen, we came on here, an hour’s drive, near to the beautiful falls of the Giessbach, which we saw on Sunday. * * * The weather will determine whether we can make an expedition to-morrow.

We shall be home on Friday by Thun and Basel, where we sleep. What day are we to be at Coburg, and for how long exactly? I believe only two or three days.

The white heather is from above Engelberg, near Brienz.

Pension Belle Vue, August 15th.

I have this instant received your dear letter from Kranichstein, and, though only just returned from an expedition to the Rosenlaui glacier, I sit down at once to thank you with all my heart for such dear lines. How glad I am all was comfortable, and that you were pleased with your day in our nice Kranichstein! I am glad you missed us a little. * * * But I must tell you of to-day. We drove to Reichenbach, close to the falls, took a guide and horses, and in two hours by a steep stony path got to Rosenlaui. The view on the Wetterhorn, covered with snow, and on the Wellhorn, which is a rugged rock on the other side of it, the white sparkling glacier, is quite beautiful. The shapes and immense height of the mountains are so imposing. I look, admire, wonder; one can’t find words to express what one feels. How you would admire the scenery! Papa was so fond of it all.

Kranichstein, August 21st.

These will be my last lines until we meet. We returned here well, having unfortunately, though, much rain from Interlaken to Basel. At Thun we were in the same hotel as Blanche and Mademoiselle Bernard, and to-morrow we expect Uncle Nemours, Marguerite, and Alençon, whom we asked to dinner on their way to Frankfort. I am mostly at the Rosenhöhe with my mama-in-law, as she is quite alone. I was in town with her, and read to her this morning; she is ever so dear and kind. I do love her so much. Ever since Ella’s birth we have been drawn so closely to each other, and I admire her also now that I know and understand her. There is so much beneath, so much Gemüth, tenderness, and delicacy of feeling. It is indeed a blessing to have such people as they are for parents-in-law.

September 1st.

Uncle George was here yesterday. Vicky remains with us till the 5th, and gives me so much pleasure to be able to repay her for her hospitality this winter.

We were at the christening of Becker’s baby, which went off so well. In the morning we had to go through High Mass for the inauguration of the Grand Duchess’ monument in the Catholic church.

Poor papa-in-law, who went to bathe for his headache, has had such a return of his cough that he is coming back here on Monday. I hope they will go to Switzerland later.

Kranichstein, September 8th.

* * * After having missed the train they intended, to come by, Bertie and Alix arrived at three o’clock. They dined with us. Louis then took him to the theatre, and I drove her about.

My poor father-in-law’s throat is very bad, and gives him much pain. I am really very anxious about him.

We leave to-morrow afternoon at four, and shall spend the following day at Ostend, embarking in the evening. Till the end of the week we intend stopping in town, and if Bertie and Alix remain longer, we shall leave by the limited mail (for Balmoral).

Inverness, October 8th.

This is a very fine town, and the country is very beautiful. We took a walk this morning, and shall drive this afternoon. It was thought better not to go to a kirk, as the people seemed to look out for us.

Again a thousand thanks for having arranged this nice journey for us, which we enjoy so much. I thought so much of you and dear Papa yesterday during our ride.57

Sandringham, November 16th.

* * * I am pleased that the children are well under your roof. I know they have all they can want. Bertie had such bad toothache yesterday; Louis also a little; the cold air must be the cause, for it is so sharp here.

Alix and I practice together for an hour of an evening. * * * Alix drove me down to the sea the other day, and a most alarming drive it was, for the horses pulled, and to our astonishment the coachman suddenly alighted between us, with his feet in the air, from the back seat, and caught hold of the reins—it was too funny. I hope to be near you again on Saturday.

Coblenz, November 25th.

* * * Having just a quarter of an hour to myself before leaving this, I hasten to write to you a few lines to tell you that we have travelled quite well so far. May will have told you about our passage. I have been sick ever since, which is dreadful. Henry and William joined us at Bonn, and came here with us.

The Queen was most kind. We spent the evening most pleasantly en famille with her, and whilst we dined alone together she had to go to a town ball.

Darmstadt, November 28th.

* * * I find my father-in-law looking better, I am happy to say, though far from strong; and alas! one of his lungs is affected. Though, with care, one can guard him from evil consequences, still of course, it is an anxious thing. All the family are very grateful for your kind messages, and send their respects to you.

* * * The children are very well, and Victoria said to my mother, “Meine Grossmama, die Königinn, has got a little vatch with a birdie,” and she is always speaking of all at Windsor, but principally of the things in your room. I am so glad that you are pleased with the children’s picture. I admire it so much.

It is warm and damp here. * * * I have a great deal to do. * * *

We have been over the new house yesterday, and alas! found many things not quite what they were intended to be. * * *

Darmstadt, December 5th.

Many thanks for your letter received yesterday, with the account of Lenchen’s Verlobung [betrothal]. I am so glad she is happy, and I hope every blessing will rest on them both that one can possibly desire.

I had a letter from Marie Brabant two days ago, where she says dear Uncle’s [King Leopold’s] state is hopeless; but yesterday she telegraphed that he was rather better. What a loss it would be if he were to be taken from us, for his very name and existence, though he takes no active part in politics, are of weight and value.

Yesterday I was painting in oils, and I copied my sketch of the Sluggan, and, if it be in any way at all presentable and fit to give, I will send it to you. I hope it won’t be very Chinese, for our sketches had a certain likeness to works of art of that country. Louis is very busy here. He has begun his military duties; he has the command and Verwaltung [administration] of the Cavalry Brigade. To-day he has to go to the Chamber, and he is going to attend the different offices—home department, finances, justice, etc.,—so as to get a knowledge of the routine of business. * * * Louis of Portugal and family passed through here yesterday, and went to Frankfort. I have inquired if they are there still, and if they are we shall try to see them. I am so curious to see Marie Pia. * * *

All our Hofstaat [Court circle] lay their good wishes for Lenchen’s engagement at your feet.

Darmstadt, December 8th.

We are so grieved and distressed at dear Uncle Leopold’s alarming state, and have given up all hope, the accounts are so bad. Oh, were there but a chance for you, or for any of us who love him so dearly, to be near him during his last hours!

December 11th.

Many thanks for your letter. Alas, alas! beloved Uncle Leopold is no more! How much for you, for us, for all, goes with him to the grave! One tie more of those dear old times is rent!

I do feel for you so much, for dear Uncle was indeed a father to you. Now you are head of all the family—it seems incredible, and that dear Papa should not be by your side.

The regret for dear Uncle Leopold is universal—he stood so high in the eyes of all parties; his life was a history in itself—and now that book is closed. Oh, it is so sad, and he is such a loss! I am almost glad this sorrow has fallen into those days already so hallowed by melancholy and precious recollections. How I recollect every hour, every minute of those days. In thinking of them one feels over again the hope, the anxiety, and lastly the despair and grief of that irretrievable loss. The Almighty stood by you and us, and enabled us to bear it, for I always wonder that we lived through that awful time.

The future world seems so like a real home, for there are so many dear ones to meet again. There is something peculiarly sad in the death of the last one of a large family—to feel that none is left to tell of each other, and of their earlier life, which the younger ones could know only through their lips.

December 15th.

Many thanks for your letter. I was so anxious to hear something of our beloved Uncle’s end; it seems to have been most peaceful.

There will be many Princes at Brussels, I believe.

How much I thought of you and of dear Papa on the 14th! Dear Louis leaves me this afternoon. He will reach Brussels at five to-morrow morning, and remain over the Sunday.

The accession of the new King and the honors that have at once to be paid are so painful, following so closely on the death of one we have loved and known in that position. As the French say: “Le Roi est mort. Vive le Roi!”

December 20th.

* * * I was sitting up for Louis till half-past eleven with Countess Blücher—who leaves to-day, and has spent a few days with me—when he, and to my astonishment Bertie also, came into the room. The next day, alas! he had to leave again at four; but still, short as his stay was, it was a token of his constant love for me, and it touched me very much, for I ever loved him so dearly.

Every thing went off well at Brussels as you will have heard. The more I realize that we shall never see beloved Uncle Leopold again, the sadder I grow. He had, apart from all his excellent qualities, such a charm as I believe we shall seldom find again.

The dear Countess is well. We made the dining-room into a bedroom for her, and we dined downstairs. I was so afraid of her getting cold, if she lived out of the house.

Darmstadt, December 24th.

* * * How I wish beloved Uncle were brought to Windsor to rest there as he had wished! I wondered so much that every thing had taken place at Laeken, knowing that dear Uncle had wished it otherwise.

Uncle Louis wishes me to thank you once more for the Christmas eatables, and my mother-in-law likewise for the lovely little frame and photograph. They are both much touched by this kind attention on your part.

Christmas Day.

* * * To me Christmas is always sad now, and for Louis and his family it was so likewise this year; my parents-in-law felt it very much. We went to the Military Church at eight this morning. It is the service we like best; but it was bitterly cold, every thing snow white.

I hope my little picture, though very imperfect, found favor in your eyes. It gave me such pleasure doing it for you, thinking of you and our expedition the whole time I was doing it.

December 30th.

This is my last letter this year. In many ways a happy one has it been, though it has deprived us of many dear and near ones. Each year brings us nearer to the Wiedersehen [reunion with the dead], though it is sad to think how one’s glass is running out, and how little good goes with it compared to the numberless blessings we receive. Time goes incredibly fast.

Every earnest and tender wish from us both is yours, dear Mama, for this coming year with its expected events. May God’s blessing rest on this new union which is to be formed in our family, and may dear Lenchen be as happy as all those who loved her can wish! I am sorry to think that I shall probably not see her again until she is married; but I am glad for her sake that the Brautstand [the betrothal period] is not to be long.

I send you a locket with Ella’s miniature, which I hope will please you.

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