Alice, grand duchess of Hesse, princess of Great Britain and Ireland Biographical sketch and letters. With portrait.

[Illustration: _Alice. 1878_]

Alice

Grand Duchess Of Hesse

Princess

Of

Great Britain And Ireland

Biographical Sketch And Letters

_With Portrait_

New York & London

G. P. Putnam’S Sons

The Knickerbocker Press

1885

_Press of G. P. Putnam’s Sons New York_

Dedicated

To

His Royal Highness

The Hereditary Grand Duke

And To

Their Grand Ducal Highnesses

The Princesses

Victoria, Elizabeth, IrèNe, Alix

Of Hesse And By Rhine

[Illustration] CONTENTS.

PREFACE. BY HER ROYAL HIGHNESS PRINCESS CHRISTIAN vii

Childhood And Girlhood, 1843-62 11

In Her New Home, 1862-65.

1862 31 1863 49 1864 71 1865 88

At Home And At Work, 1866-72.

1866 123 1867 168 1868 199 1869 216 1870 235 1871 266 1872 284

Trials, 1873-1877.

1873 300 1874 321 1875 339 1876 348 1877 356

The End, 1878 368

Concluding Remarks 383

Appendix.

A Watcher By The Dead 391

A Sketch In Memoriam, December 14, 1878. By Sir Theodore Martin, K.C.B. 398

Lines In Memoriam 406

[Illustration]

[Illustration] PREFACE.

The great affection with which my dear Sister has ever been regarded in this country, and the universal feeling of sympathy shown at the time of her death, lead me to hope that the publication of this volume may not be unwelcome, containing as it does extracts from her letters to my Mother, together with a brief record of her married life.

The short Memoir here translated from the German, with which the letters are interwoven, was written, as will be seen at a glance, not as presenting any thing like a complete picture of my Sister’s character and opinions, but merely as a narrative of such of the incidents of her life as were necessary to illustrate and explain the letters themselves.

In these days, when the custom has become general of publishing biographies of all persons of note or distinction, it was thought advisable, in order that a true picture might be given of my Sister, that a short sketch of her life should be prepared by some one who was personally known to her, and who appreciated the many beautiful features of her character. The choice fell upon a clergyman at Darmstadt, Dr. Sell.

It would have been premature and out of place to attempt any thing like a complete picture of a character so many-sided, or of my Sister’s opinions on the affairs of Europe, in which she took the deepest interest, and on which she formed opinions remarkable for breadth and sagacity of view. The domestic side of her nature might alone for the present be freely dealt with; and to help Dr. Sell in delineating this, my Mother selected for his guidance the extracts from my Sister’s letters to her which appear in the present volume. There was no thought at first of making these extracts public, but they were found to be so beautiful, and to be so true an expression of what my Sister really was, that, in compliance with the request of the Grand Duke her husband, they were allowed to be translated and published, so that her subjects might see in them how great reason they had to love her whom they had lost.

The letters in their original form are here given to the English public, and I am sure that all who read them will feel thankful to my Mother for thus granting them a closer insight into my clear Sister’s beautiful and unselfish life.

They will see in them also, with satisfaction, how devoted she was to the land of her birth,--how her heart ever turned to it with reverence and affection as the country which had done and was doing for Liberty and the advancement of mankind more than any other country in the world. How deep was her feeling in this respect was testified by a request, which she made to her husband in anticipation of her death, that an English flag might be laid upon her coffin; accompanying the wish with a modest expression of a hope, that no one in the land of her adoption could take umbrage at her desire to be borne to her rest with the old English colors above her.

In any case I feel confident that the perusal of these letters must deepen the love and admiration which have always been felt for my beloved Sister in this country, where she ever thanked God that her childhood and youth had been tended with a wise love, that had fostered and developed all those qualities and tastes which she most valued and strove to cultivate in her later years.

* * * * *

I had written these words, when another beloved member of our family, whose name often recurs in my Sister’s letters, was suddenly taken from us, and from our country. Writing of my dear Brother to my Mother (February 1, 1868) she said: “May God spare that young bright and gifted life to be a comfort to you for many a year to come!” That life, which then hung trembling in the balance, was mercifully spared, not indeed for many a year, but long enough to make my Brother more beloved by his family and friends, and to enable him to give to his country some token of the good gifts with which he was endowed. As he was the last of us to see my dear Sister in life, so he has been the first to follow her into the Silent Land.

Helena.

Cumberland Lodge:

_15th April, 1884_.

[Illustration]

[Illustration] PRINCESS ALICE.

Childhood And Girlhood.

1843-1862.

“I ever look back to my childhood and girlhood as the happiest time of life.”--(_13th June, 1869._)

Princess Alice, as she is ever called in England, was born at Buckingham Palace on the 25th of April, 1843. She was the third child and second daughter of Queen Victoria and Albert, Prince Consort. At her christening, which took place at the Palace on the 2d of June, she received the names of Alice Maud Mary. Princess Sophia Matilda of Gloucester, niece of King George III., and sister-in-law to the Duchess of Gloucester, was one of her godmothers, and her Royal parents chose the name of Maud, which is the same as Matilda, on account of its being an old English name borne by the Empress Maud, and other British princesses. The name of “Mary” was chosen because the little princess was born on the Duchess of Gloucester’s birthday.

The Archbishop of Canterbury officiated at the christening. The sponsors: the reigning King of Hanover, Ernest Augustus; the Hereditary Prince of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha; Princess Sophia Matilda of Gloucester, sister-in-law to the Duchess of Gloucester, niece of George III.; and Feodora, Princess of Hohenlohe-Langenburg, half-sister to the Queen.

The christening was, as the Queen herself told her uncle, the King of the Belgians, when writing to him on the 6th of June, “a very imposing ceremony. Nothing could have gone off better, and little Alice behaved extremely well.”[1]

Though twenty-two years only have passed since the wholly unexpected death of Prince Albert deprived the Queen of her devoted husband, the Royal children of a most loving and beloved father, and the whole nation of one of its wisest counsellors, his life, in the admirable biographical memorial by Sir Theodore Martin, forms already part of history, and by it we are enabled to form a just estimate of the perfect character and great intellectual abilities of the Prince, whom his daughter, Princess Alice, revered through life as her highest ideal.

Prince Albert, the second son of the then reigning Duke of Coburg, was the very picture of manly chivalrous beauty. He was very young, not yet twenty-one years old, when he became the Consort of the Queen of England, who was only three months older. But by his strength of character and rare energy of intellect, combined with a thorough self-control and an unswerving devotion to the duties of his position, he succeeded in gaining the love and esteem of a nation which, though it keeps watch over its rights and privileges with peculiar jealousy, knows also how to show great generosity, when once it has learnt to trust and to love.

With his wonderful power of mastering new and difficult subjects he made himself familiar with the history and policy, the social and agricultural conditions, the industries and commercial relations of his adopted country. In his position of intimate confidential adviser to the Sovereign he showed the greatest tact, and gained the affection and respect of the Ministers who succeeded one another at the head of affairs; whilst the more he became known the more his genuine worth was appreciated by the nation at large.

Chief of all, two nations have acknowledged with grateful admiration, that under his influence there grew up in the midst of the most brilliant Court in Europe a domestic family life, so perfect in its purity and charm that it might well serve for a bright example to every home in the land. Whilst sharing with the Sovereign all the labors and cares of state, the Prince made suitable changes and practical arrangements in the Royal Household, and, by steadily adhering to principles which he had at once recognized as the best, he succeeded in making life happy and peaceful to all around him. Thus it was that the Royal Family of England, whether residing in the splendid palaces at Windsor, in London, or at Osborne, the lovely country seat in the Isle of Wight, or at Balmoral, surrounded by the sterner scenery of the Scotch Highlands, was enabled to enjoy a life of perfect tranquillity amidst the political tempests of the most turbulent decade of our times.

The childhood of the Princess Alice was a very happy one, and much favored by circumstances. When she was a year old, her father mentioned her as “the beauty of the family,” and as an extremely good and merry child. Her mother adds, “she was a very vain little person.”

She developed naturally. At first she was not thought to be so highly gifted as later years proved her to be. Her father often used to speak of her as “poor dear little Alice,” as if he had to take her part. She soon became a great favorite with all around her. Lady Lyttleton, who up to 1851 was entrusted with the supervision of the Royal children, and to whose pen we owe so many accounts of that happy family life, writes as follows on the little Princess’ fourth birthday:

“Dear Princess Alice is too pretty, in her low frock and pearl necklace, tripping about and blushing and smiling at her honors. The whole family, indeed, appear to advantage on birthdays; no tradesman or country squire can keep one with such hearty simple affection and enjoyment. _One_ present I think we shall all wish to live farther off: a live lamb, all over pink ribbons and bells. He is already the greatest pet, as one may suppose.

“Princess Alice’s pet lamb is the cause of many tears. He will not take to his mistress, but runs away lustily, and will soon butt at her, though she is most coaxy, and said to him in her sweetest tones, after kissing his nose often, ‘Milly, _dear_ Milly! _do_ you like me?’”

One of the main principles observed in the education of the Royal children was this--that though they received the best training, of body and mind, to fit them for the high position they would eventually have to fill, they should in nowise come in contact with the actual Court life. The children were scarcely known to the Queen’s ladies-in-waiting, as they only now and then made their appearance for a moment after dinner at dessert, or accompanied their parents out driving. The care of them was exclusively entrusted to persons who possessed the Queen and Prince Consort’s entire confidence, and with whom they could at all times communicate direct. The Royal parents kept themselves thoroughly informed of the minutest detail of what was being done for their children in the way of training and instruction.

After the first years of childhood were past, the Royal children were placed under the care of English, French, and German governesses, who, again, were under a Lady Superintendent, and accompanied the children in their walks and watched over them during their games.

To the lessons in foreign languages, music and drawing were soon added, for which the young Princess showed a decided talent.[2] “Her copybooks were always neatness itself, and she wrote a very pretty hand.” “Fresh, blooming, and healthy, escaping most of the illnesses of childhood, cheerful, merry, full of fun and mischief,” she delighted in all bodily exercises, such as gymnastics, skating, etc. Above all, she was passionately fond of riding and of horses. She preferred playing with her brothers, and was bold and fearless as a boy. With all this, however, she soon showed proofs of real kindness of heart and of tender consideration for others. “I remember well,” a former dresser of the Queen’s relates, “meeting the Royal children playing in the corridor, and, as I passed on, the Prince of Wales making a joke about my great height, the Princess said to her brothers, but so that I should hear it: ‘It is very nice to be tall; Papa would like us all to be tall.’” “Her kindness of heart showed itself in all her actions when a child. Whenever she in the least suspected that anybody’s feelings had been hurt, she always tried to make things smooth again.” “At Christmastime she was most anxious to give pleasure to everybody, and bought presents for each with her own pocket-money. She once gave me a little pincushion, and on another occasion a basket, and wrote on a little card with a colored border (always in German for me) ‘For dear Frida [now Madame Müller], from Alice’ and brought it to me herself on Christmas Eve. I felt that she had thought how much I must have missed my home that day.”

The, first journeys on which she, with her elder sister and brother, was allowed to accompany her parents are vividly described in the Queen’s Journal. They were those to Ireland, in 1849, and, in 1850, to the Highlands; and to the beauty and grandeur of Highland scenery she remained through life an enthusiastic devotee.

Her intellectual faculties and the deeper qualities of her character did not, in her case, as, indeed, generally happens with high-spirited, healthy children, develop very early; but almost from the first she showed those qualities of disposition which win all hearts and lend a charm to daily life.

Little theatrical pieces performed by the Royal children on festive anniversaries in the family--partly, too, with a view of gaining facility in foreign languages--were the field in which the young Princess decidedly distinguished herself. No child ever performed the part of the High Priest Joad in Racine’s “Athalie,” with more dignity, and with a more pleasing intonation; and a more delightful German Red Ridinghood[3] than the Princess never appeared upon the stage.

Of one of these performances, given in honor of the Queen and Prince’s wedding-day in 1864, Baroness Bunsen gives the following description in her biography of Baron Bunsen. A tableau representing the Four Seasons had been studied and contrived by the Royal children. “First appeared Princess Alice as the Spring, scattering flowers, and reciting verses, which were taken from Thomson’s ‘Seasons’; she moved gracefully, and spoke in a distinct and pleasing manner with excellent modulation, and a tone of voice sweet and penetrating like that of the Queen.”[4]

It was during these years that Princess Alice formed her warm friendship for the Princess Louise of Prussia, now Grand Duchess of Baden, who records her first impressions of the young Princess in the following words:

“She was at that time most graceful in appearance--charming, merry, and amiable; and though always occupying a subordinate place to her very gifted and distinguished sister, there never was the least semblance of a disagreement. Alice’s cheerful disposition and her great power of observation showed themselves very early in the pleasantest manner, and she had a remarkable gift of making herself attractive to others. Her individuality was less decided and prominent than that of her sister, and she had a special charm of childhood grace. Our walks and drives together, the life in the schoolroom, the games in the corridors, or in dear old Baron Stockmar’s room--these and all the pleasure and enjoyment of being together with the two sisters will ever remain amongst the happiest and most lasting of my recollections.”

The opening of the First Great Exhibition in 1851--Prince Albert’s own creation--was the occasion of a visit of the Prince of Prussia (the present Emperor of Germany) and his family to the English Court. This visit was repeated in 1853. Meanwhile an active correspondence had sprung up between the young friends, in which Princess Alice took a most active part.

“Alice was now drawn more into the circle of the grown-up members of the family; but, in spite of this, she retained all the fascination of her charming graceful ways. A great vein of humor showed itself in her, as well as a certain sharpness in criticising people who were not congenial to her. Many a little conflict took place in the schoolroom; but while the individualities of the sisters became more and more distinct, their happy relations to one another remained unchanged. She was a great favorite with her brothers and sisters, though they knew she was fond of mischief.

“To a naturally engaging manner quite exceptional joyousness and power of showing affectionate emotion imparted an especial charm, which revealed itself in the fine lines of her face, in her graceful movements, and a certain inborn nobleness and dignity. Her attachment to my parents, ‘Uncle Prussia’ and ‘Aunt Prussia,’ was truly touching.”

In 1855 Princess Alice had her first serious illness--scarlet fever--caught from her younger sister, Princess Louise. She recovered easily, but for some time afterward a certain delicacy was observable. The accounts at that time are unanimous in describing the peculiarly sweet development of her disposition, and the manifestation of a true womanly interest in the works of charity and mercy. The feeling of acting independently for the good of others had been aroused in many ways in the Royal children. The Swiss Cottage at Osborne, in like manner, with its museum, kitchen, store-room, and little gardens, was made the means of learning how to do household work, and to direct the management of a small establishment.

The parents were invited there as guests, to partake of the dishes which the Princesses themselves prepared; and there, too, each child was allowed to choose its own occupation, and to enjoy perfect liberty.

The life in the Highlands, free from the restraint of Court life, brought the Royal children into closer contact with the humbler classes, and called into play their sympathies for the poor.

They were permitted to visit the humblest cottages--nay, even encouraged to do so. There it was, no doubt, that a feeling of pity for and an ardent desire to help the poor, the sick, and the needy, were first aroused in the Princess. We know how these early impressions led in later life to her founding some of the noblest and most beneficent institutions.

The blessings of a happy family life,--which generally those only are allowed to enjoy who live in happy obscurity from the great world,--were fully appreciated by the Princess, as we may see from her later letters, abounding in gratitude to her parents and brothers and sisters, and from the frequent references which she makes to this period of her life.

The visits of the grandchildren to their beloved grandmother, the Duchess of Kent, old in years but young in spirit, at her residences at Frogmore (near Windsor), and Abergeldie (near Balmoral), had a peculiar charm for them.

The first excursion the Princess made out of her native land was to Cherbourg,[5] when, with her brothers and sisters, she accompanied her parents. The lovely scenery about Cherbourg has become familiar to us through the descriptions given by the Queen.

A great change in the life of the Princess took place through the engagement of the Princess Royal to Prince Frederick William of Prussia. Hitherto the Princess had in a great measure shared her sister’s studies and artistic occupations, and had had the same companions, taking quietly and naturally the second place. Now her sister’s departure for a new home wrought an entire change in her life, throwing upon her, as it did, new responsibilities as now the eldest daughter at home, and placing her in a new position in relation to her parents, and particularly to her father, whose constant care it was to imbue her with that sincerity and earnestness of purpose without which, to use his friend Baron Stockmar’s words, “it was impossible to fill one’s position in life happily, worthily, and with dignity.”

The closer intercourse with her father laid the foundation of that deep and intelligent love of plastic art and of music, for which she had already as a child shown a decided talent. Her appreciation of all that was best in the arts was fostered by the many treasures by which she was surrounded at Windsor Castle, and also by prosecuting her studies and practice in music along with the Prince Consort.

The many great and stirring events of those years, the disturbance of Europe through the Revolutions of 1848 and 1849, and the Crimean war, took place when the Princess was already old enough to feel their gravity; and served to awaken and foster the keen interest which she took in later years in all political occurrences.

Another great European conflict was approaching, just about the time of her Confirmation, which took place on the 21st of April, 1869. Besides having been prepared for it by the Dean of Windsor (the Hon. and Very Rev. G. Wellesley), the Prince Consort himself had given the Princess instructions, as he had previously done to the Princess Royal, from “A manual of Religion and of the History of the Christian Church,” by Carl Gottlieb Bretschneider (formerly, “General Superintendent” in Gotha). The Prince’s object in this was to encourage her in serious thought, and in independent reflections on religious questions.

The ceremony of the Confirmation, which was performed by the Archbishop of Canterbury, had barely been concluded, when the news arrived of the threatened invasion of Sardinia by Austria, which finally ended in the Austro-Italian war, so disastrous to Austria, of 1859.

The Queen makes the following remarks on this event, in a letter to her uncle, the King of the Belgians:

“* * * But this did not in the least disturb our dear child’s equanimity. She was in a most devotional state of mind--quiet, gentle, self-possessed, and deeply impressed by the importance and solemnity of the event. She answered admirably at her examination, and went through the ceremony in a very perfect manner.”[6]

Not long before this the Queen had given her own opinion of her daughter in the following words:

“She is very good, gentle, sensible, and amiable, and a real comfort to me. I shall not let her marry as long as I can reasonably delay her doing so.”[7]

In June 1860 the Queen and Prince Consort received numerous guests at Windsor Castle for the Ascot races, amongst others the King of the Belgians and the two Princes, Louis and Henry of Hesse, the sons of Prince Charles of Hesse and nephews of the reigning Grand Duke. After they had left England, the Prince Consort mentioned to his valued friend Baron Stockmar, that there was no doubt that Prince Louis and Princess Alice had formed a mutual liking, and that he quite expected it would lead to further advances from the young Prince’s family.

Judging by the favorable impression which the manly and attractive Prince of twenty-three had made, the probable result was eagerly looked for.

Before long a letter from Princess Frederick William from Berlin announced that she had been in communication with Prince Louis’ mother, Princess Charles of Hesse (cousin of the Prince Regent of Prussia), who had informed her of her son’s great admiration for her sister. It was arranged that, after the journey of the Queen and Prince Consort to Germany that autumn, the young Prince should pay a second visit to England; and leave of absence for him was to be obtained from the Prince Regent of Prussia.[8] This was done, and he arrived at Windsor Castle in November. On the 30th of November the Queen wrote as follows in her Diary:

“* * * After dinner, whilst talking to the gentlemen, I perceived Alice and Louis talking before the fireplace more earnestly than usual, and when I passed to go to the other room, both came up to me, and Alice in much agitation said he had proposed to her, and he begged for my blessing. I could only squeeze his hand and say ‘Certainly.’ and that we would see him in our room later. Got through the evening working as well as we could. Alice came to our room * * * agitated, but quiet. * * * Albert sent for Louis to his room; he went first to him and then called Alice and me in. * * * Louis has a warm, noble heart. We embraced our dear Alice, and praised her much to him. He pressed and kissed my hand, and I embraced him. After talking a little, we parted; a most touching, and to me most sacred, moment.”[9]

As this was entirely a marriage of affection, the happiness of the “young people” was very great.

Prince Louis stayed over Christmas, which this year seemed brighter to the whole family, from the accession of what her father termed “a beloved newly-bestowed full-grown son.” “Our dear Bridegroom,” as the Prince Consort calls the young Prince, left on the 28th of December. The parting was tearful, but full of hope, as he was to return in the spring.

During the first happy weeks after her engagement, Princess Alice had spent the greater part of her evenings with her beloved grandmother, the Duchess of Kent, either reading or playing on the piano to her, as the Duchess’ health did not allow of her dining at Windsor Castle.

The Duchess’ condition had become worse during the first months of the new year (1861), and she died on the 16th of March at the age of seventy-four, in the presence of her beloved and loving daughter, whose happiness and affection had been the joy of her life, and also of her equally beloved son-in-law, and the Princess Alice. On this sad occasion, which she felt most deeply, Princess Alice showed the comfort and help she was fitted to be to her family in times of sorrow and anxiety.

The Queen communicated to Parliament in a “Message” the contemplated marriage of the Princess. The announcement was received with general satisfaction. When, shortly afterward, the question of the Princess’ “settlement” was laid before the House of Commons, the dowry of 30,000_l._, with an annuity of 6,000_l._, was voted without a dissentient voice. “She will not,” writes her careful father, “be able to do great things with it.”

In May, Prince Louis arrived at Osborne on a visit. Soon after, however, he fell ill with the measles. Prince Leopold caught them from him, and was very seriously ill.

In the following month the whole family were for the last time together, including the two sons-in-law[10] and the two grandchildren from Potsdam.

Prince Louis paid another visit to England in September, when he took part in those delightful expeditions in the Highlands, which were to be the last the Prince Consort made.[11]

In December, in the midst of preparations which he was making for Princess Alice’s future household, and for a journey of her brother, Prince Leopold, to Cannes, the Prince Consort fell ill. Princess Alice was often with her father during his illness, reading to him, and in intimate communication with her mother. Soon, however, the illness developed into low fever, and the Prince, worn out by over-work and anxiety, had not strength to resist it, and died peacefully on the 14th of December, in the presence of the Queen, the Prince of Wales, and the Princesses Alice and Hélèna. During the days of unspeakable sorrow which followed upon the death of the Prince Consort, it was Princess Alice above all who was a real support to her broken-hearted mother. The unanimous opinion of eye-witnesses as to what the Princess went through and achieved at this time is truly astonishing.

“Herself filled with the intensest sorrow at her beloved father’s death--and what a father! what a head of a family! what a friend and adviser to his wife and children!--she at once took into her own hands every thing that was necessary in those first dark days of the destruction of that happy home. All communications from the Ministers and household passed through the Princess’ hands to the Queen, then bowed down by grief. She endeavored in every way possible, either verbally or by writing, to save her mother all trouble. The decision to leave Windsor for Osborne directly after the Prince’s death, according to the urgent wish of the King of the Belgians, and which it was so difficult and painful for the Queen to make, was obtained by the Princess’ influence.”

The gay, bright girl seemed all at once to have changed into the thoughtful woman.

“It was the very intimate intercourse with the sorrowing Oueen at that time which called forth in Princess Alice that keen interest and understanding in politics for which she was afterward so distinguished. She also gained at this time that practical knowledge for organizing, and the desire for constant occupation, which in her public as well as in her private life became part of herself. The Princess suddenly developed into a wise far-seeing woman, living only for others, and beloved and respected by the highest as well as by the lowest.[12]

It was at this time that the _Times_ said of the Princess:

“It is impossible to speak too highly of the strength of mind and self-sacrifice of the Princess Alice during these dreadful days. Her Royal Highness has certainly understood, that it was her duty to be the help and support of her mother in her great sorrow, and it was in a great measure due to her that the Queen has been able to bear with such wonderful resignation the irreparable loss that so suddenly and terribly befell her.”

The young “bridegroom” did not remain absent in those days, but arrived without delay.

A touching trait is told by the same near relation of the Princess whose memorandum has just been quoted. As she was placing wreaths and flowers on the dear dead Prince, and both knelt down near him, she said in a heart-rending voice, “Oh! dear Molly, let us pray to God to give us back dear Papa!”

The letters published in this volume will show that the feeling of that irreparable loss never left her through life, and our impression cannot be a false one, that it was this loss which brought out the deep earnestness of her character, and which made her feel that life was no light thing, but a time of probation to be spent in earnest work and conscientious fulfilment of duty.

She felt it to be a sacred duty to foster the recollections of her girlhood, and to carry out the principles with which her father had embued her, whether in the cultivation of art and science, the encouragement of art manufactures, of agriculture and general education, in the tasteful and practical arrangement of her own house, in bettering the conditions of the lower and working classes by improving their homes and inculcating principles of health, economy, and domestic management. In short, in every way open to her, did the Princess try to walk in her father’s footsteps, and so to do honor to his memory.

It is but natural that during the first weeks of her first great sorrow, and of her many new duties, the thought of her own future should have been put into the background. The preparations for her marriage, however, as well as for her household were continued, according to the known intentions of the Prince Consort. The marriage was solemnized at Osborne on the 1st of July at one o’clock. The Archbishop of York performed the ceremony in the absence of the Archbishop of Canterbury, who was prevented by illness from being present.

Besides her sorrowing mother, the Crown Prince of Prussia, all her brothers and sisters, the parents and brothers and sisters of the bridegroom, and a number of princely relations were present. The Duke of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha, in the place of her father, led the bride to the altar, whilst the bridegroom was accompanied by his brother, Prince Henry. At the conclusion of the ceremony, the Queen withdrew to her room. The guests left the Isle of Wight in the afternoon, whilst the newly-married pair went with a small suit to St. Clare, near Ryde (belonging to Colonel and Lady Catherine Harcourt), where they remained three days.

On the 9th of July, Prince and Princess Louis of Hesse left England, accompanied by the fervent prayers and good wishes of a devoted people, who never forgot what their Princess had been to them in their hour of trouble.

What they felt found apt expression in the following sonnet, which appeared in _Punch_ at the time:

Dear to us all by those calm and earnest eyes, And early thought upon that fair young brow; Dearer for that where grief was heaviest, thou Wert sunshine, till He passed where suns shall rise And set no more; thou, in affection wise And strong, wert strength to Her who even but now In the soft accents of thy bridal vow Heard music of her own heart’s memories.

Too full of love to own a thought of pride Is now thy gentle bosom; so ’tis best: Yet noble is thy choice, O English bride! And England hails the bridegroom and the guest A friend--a friend well loved by him who died. He blessed your troth: your wedlock shall be blessed.

[Illustration] 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.