Chapter V: Part 5

* * * How precious are your words of love and sympathy and the hope
you still hold to, that war may somehow be averted! It does me good
to hear it; and I know how much, and how lovingly, your thoughts
dwell with dear Vicky and with me during this time of trial. * * *

June 13th.

* * * I fear if the Bund orders the mobilization, and goes against
Prussia, our troops will be the first to go, and then Louis may get
orders to be off any day. It is too dreadful! I live in such dread
that he may have to go just before, or at the very moment of my
confinement. * * *

I hope Scotland will do you good. Please God, when you return
matters may be better. If Austria and Prussia would only fight out
their quarrel together; but the latter has taken refuge with the
Bund now, because she wanted it.

DARMSTADT, June 15th.

* * * The serious illness of poor little Sigismund[63] in the midst
of all these troubles is really dreadful for poor Vicky and Fritz,
and they are so fond of that merry little child.

We have just received the news that the Prussians have crossed our
frontier and established themselves at Giessen. The excitement here
is dreadful and it is very difficult to keep people back from doing
stupid things--wanting to attack, and so on, which with our force
alone would be madness.

Louis--as always--remains quiet; but we live in a perpetual fever,
alarms being sent, being _gehetzt_ [stirred up] from Vienna, as
they want the Bund to go with them at once. It is a dreadful time.
I anticipate it will be the close of the existence of the little
countries. God stand by us! Without the civil list Uncle Louis and
the family are beggars, as all the private property belongs to the
country.

It is so kind of dear Lady Ely to offer to come. I shall be very
glad of it, for from one day to another I don’t know what Louis’
duties may be; and, when I am laid up, it is so pleasant to have
some one who can write to you.

June 18th.

These lines I send by our children, whom you will so kindly take
charge of--alas, that the times should be such as to make this
necessary! In your dear hands they will be so safe; and if we can
give you a little pleasure in sending them, it would be a real
consolation in parting from them, which we both feel very much.

The state of excitement here is beyond description. Troops
arriving, being billeted about--all will be concentrated from here
to Frankfort. Two days ago the Bund telegraphed for Uncle Alexander
to come, as the Prussians were advancing; we, of course, were all
unprepared, and the confusion and fright were dreadful; but, thank
God, they retreated again, when they got wind that troops were
assembling.

June 24th.

* * * The state of affairs is awful; perpetual frights and false
news arrive. The Prussians are coming from Wetzlar or Bingen; all
the bustle and alarm for necessary defence; it is really dreadful.
Louis’ chief has his staff at Frankfort. Louis’ cavalry brigade is
there likewise, so he has his adjutant, etc., there, and does his
work early in the morning at Frankfort, returning here in the
afternoon, which has been kindly allowed on account of me. I remain
here, of course, as near dear Louis as I can; and now that the
children are gone, I have only myself to look after. * * * I have
not the least fear, but my anxiety about Louis will be very great,
as you can imagine. * * * Collections are already being made for
the hospitals in the field, and the necessary things to be got for
the soldiers. Illness and wounds will be dreadful in this heat.
Coarse linen and rags are the things of which one can’t have
enough, and I am working, collecting shirts, sheets, etc.; and now
I come to ask, if you could send me some old linen for rags. In
your numerous households it is collected twice a year, and sent to
hospitals. Could I beg for some this time? It would be such a
blessing for the poor Germans; and here they are not so rich, and
that is a thing of which in every war there has been too little.
Lint I have ordered from England by wish of the doctors; and
bandages also they wished for. If you could, through Dr. Jenner,
procure me some of these things, I should be so grateful. * * *
Four dozen shirts we are making in the house. Every contribution of
linen or of patterns of good cushions, or any good bed which in the
English hospitals has been found useful, we should be delighted to
have. * * * For the moment the people beg most for _rags_; our
house being new, we have none. I am tolerably well, and cannot be
too thankful for good nerves. Louis is very low at times, nervous
at leaving me; and for him I keep up, though at times not without a
struggle. May the Almighty watch over us, and not separate us, is
my hourly prayer!

In your hands we feel the children so safe, though we miss them
much. It is so kind of you to have taken them, and they are strong
and healthy. * * *

June 25th.

Two words by Lady Ely’s courier. I am so glad she is here. She
performed the journey in a day and night without difficulty; and
Christa, who merely came from Cassel, took three days coming by
road.

Alas! to-morrow Louis’ division moves on into the country to make
room for other troops, and he must go. It will be too far for him
to return--save with special permission for a few hours--so we
shall have to part. My courage is beginning to fail me, but I bear
up as best I can. God knows what a bitter trial it is! He is just
in front, so the first exposed. William is to go in Uncle Alex.’s
staff, and my poor mama-in-law is beginning to break down now. We
try to cheer each other. The whole thing is so hard: against her
countrymen--there where Louis has served. The whole thing is so
_contrecœur_, and the Prussian soldiers dislike it as much as we
do.

I am going to Frankfort with ever so many poor wives to take leave
of their husbands, who march to-day.

The heat is awful. I have no time to think of myself, or I daresay
I should have heat, etc., to complain of. Being still off and on
with Louis, and having things to do, keeps me up; but when he is
gone, and I have no man here to reassure me, it will be dreadful.

I must close. * * * Letters from home _now_ are such a pleasure; do
let any one write to me sometimes to give me news of you all. Your
own child,

ALICE.

DARMSTADT, July 1st.

* * * The parting _now_ was _so_ hard! and he feels it so
dreadfully. I can scarcely manage to write. The heat, besides, is
overpowering. Our dear wedding-day four years ago! Four years of
undisturbed, real, and increasing happiness. How I thank and bless
the Almighty for them, and how fervently I pray that we may live
over this most bitter trial!

* * * Whether Henry is engaged or not we don’t know, and can get no
news of him. At any rate he is cut off from news of us and the rest
of Germany; and, as our army is moving, and he is on the extreme
wing, at any moment he may find himself opposite to his own
brothers and countrymen. It is most painful, and has been to my
poor father-in-law a great shock, as we all hoped he had got away.
Please let my brothers know this. They will feel for this
unheard-of position for three brothers to be in. * * *

Dear Lady Ely is a comfort and support to me, and it was quite a
relief to Louis to leave her with me. We are both so grateful that
she came. Christa is quite out of sorts about her country, and sees
every thing black. Marie is low about her brother; and we are so in
the middle of it all, that an English person who has no one
concerned in it all is really a relief.

I am so glad that you are pleased with the little ones. You be
sure, I know, not to let them get in the way of infection, if there
is still any.

July 3d.

* * * Poor Vicky! She bears her trial [the death of her son, Prince
Sigismund] bravely, and it is a heavy one indeed. This dreadful war
is enough to break one’s heart. Those lives sacrificed for
nothing--and what will be the end of it all? All our troops are
gone now, too, and, what is so unpleasant, of course we here don’t
know where they go to--where they are. Letters are fetched by the
Feldpost, and as they are chiefly not near the railroads--at least
not Louis--we cannot telegraph. At such a moment I know dear Louis
fidgets dreadfully for news, and I not less. Since he has gone I
have heard nothing.

At length letters from Henry have come. He never received until the
29th the telegram his parents begged the King to send him on the
18th, for the King said he did not know where he was--thought he
was in Russia! He has been in all the engagements, wondering why,
as was originally arranged, no order came for him to leave.

I am so very uncomfortable, and it wants courage and patience and
hope, under such circumstances, to bear all. Of course, anxiety
about beloved Louis is the chief thing, and longing for news. The
Prussians are collecting a large army near Thüringen, in which
direction ours are marching. Probably Uncle Ernest against ours! He
might so well have remained quiet, and sent his troops to Mayence,
as was settled.

For dear Lenchen’s wedding-day receive every warm and affectionate
wish. May God’s blessing rest on their union! I am so glad you are
pleased with the dear children. I have already found that likeness
in Ella to Affie’s picture by Thorburn, but she is so like dear
Louis.

July 6th.

* * * There seems a chance of an armistice. I trust it is so, and
that peace will ensue. The enormous bloodshed on both sides this
fortnight is too awful to think of. Poor Austria! it is hard for
her. But as she is said to be ready to cede Venice, then, at least,
the Italian war will be at an end.

Surely the neutral Powers will try and prevent Austria and Prussia
beginning again; it is too horrid!

The rest of Germany now must knock under; but that is better than
again shedding so much blood on the chance of getting the upper
hand.

I have had some lines from dear Louis from the north of Hesse. He
is well; how I do hope now that they won’t come to blows.

How kind of you to give the children frocks for the wedding! Will
you kiss the dear little ones from me? I miss them very much.

* * * * *

[In a letter dated July 11, 1866, Prince Louis announces to the Queen the birth of a strong, healthy girl, with “dark eyes and brown hair.”]

* * * * *

DARMSTADT, July 19th.

BELOVED MAMA:--_What_ a time I have passed during these eight days
since baby’s birth! Firstly, I have to thank the Almighty for
having preserved my own sweet and adored husband, and for the
blessing of having had him by me, so dear, so precious, during my
confinement. After three days he had to go, and when he got near
Aschaffenburg found fighting going on. We could hear the guns here.
The Prussians shot from the roofs of the houses; they fought in the
streets; it must have been horrid. Our troops retreated (as had
always been intended) in perfect order. The wounded were brought in
here the following day. The 13th and 14th they fought. Louis was
there on the 14th; since then I have not seen him--God knows when I
shall again.

The Prussians have taken Frankfort, and they are at home here. No
communications allowed; get no papers or letters; may send none! An
existence of monstrous anxiety and worry, which it is impossible
for those to imagine who have not lived through it.

I had a letter from Louis from the Odenwald this morning, written
yesterday. They expected to pass Amorbach to-day. They are trying
to meet the Bavarians, who are never to be found.

I long for a letter from you. We have none at all. I have had none
from you since baby’s birth. The people, who are such cowards and
so silly, fly from here in all available droschkies.

_How_ I pray some end may soon come to this horrid bloodshed! Ah!
the misery around us you can’t imagine. Henry has never received
his discharge, and has gone unscathed, in spite of being so exposed
through all these battles.

I myself am very well, and I don’t give way, though the anxiety
about Louis leaves me no peace.

Baby is well and very pretty. The time she came at prevented a
thought of disappointment at her being a girl. Only gratitude to
the Almighty filled our hearts, that I and the child were well, and
that dear Louis and I were together at the time. The times are
hard; it wants all a Christian’s courage and patience to carry one
through them; but there is _one Friend_ who in the time of need
does not forsake one, and He is my comfort and support. God bless
you, my own Mama, and pray for your child,

ALICE.

Friday, July 27th, 9 o’clock P.M.

At this moment the messenger has arrived, to leave again at five
to-morrow morning. A thousand thanks for your dear letter, the
first I have received since baby’s birth!

To-night (since Sunday no news of Louis) at length I have heard
that dear Louis is well. These last four days they have been
fighting again. I had a few lines from him. These last two nights
he slept in a field, and the country is so poor, that they had
nothing but a little bread during two days to eat. Now the
Prussians, having made peace with Austria, and having refused it to
us, are advancing on our troops from three sides.

I can scarcely write; this anxiety is killing me, and my love has
been so exposed! All are in admiration of his personal bravery and
tender attention to the suffering and want of all around. He never
thinks of himself, and shares all the dangers and privations with
the others.

Louis says they long for peace. He disapproves the different
Governments for not now giving way to Prussia, and begs me to use
my influence with Uncle Louis to accept Prussian conditions to
spare further bloodshed.

From all parts of the country the people beg me to do what I can.

The confusion here is awful, the want of money alarming; right and
left one must help. As the Prussians pillaged here, I have many
people’s things hidden in the house. Even whilst in bed I had to
see gentlemen in my room, as there were things to be done and asked
which had to come straight to me. Then our poor wounded--the wives
and mothers begging I should inquire for their husbands and
children. It is a state of affairs too dreadful to describe.

The new anxiety to-night of knowing a dreadful battle is expected,
perhaps going on, in which dear Louis again must be! I can scarcely
bear up any longer; I feel it is getting too much. God Almighty
stand by us! My courage is beginning to sink. I see no light
anywhere; and my own beloved husband still in danger, and we cannot
hear, for the Prussians are between us and them. Any thing may have
happened to him, and I can’t hear it or know it! I could not go to
him were he wounded.

What I have suffered and do suffer no words can describe--the
sleepless nights of anxiety, the long days without news--_how_ I
pray it may soon end, and dear darling Louis be spared me!

In these days I have so longed to hear from you. It would have been
such a comfort, and I longed for it much.

If we live, and peace is restored, the country and every thing will
be in such a mess, and both of us in such want of change, that we
must go somewhere; but we shall then, I fear, be next to ruined.
You can’t think what war in one’s own country--in a little one like
this--is! The want is fearful. I must go to bed, as it is late. I
am well, so is the little one; but I can’t sleep or eat well all
along; and the worry of mind and much to do keep me weak.

Oh, that we were together again! Good-bye beloved Mama. These next
days I fear will be dreadful. May the Almighty watch over dear
Louis! You will pray for him, won’t you?

_P.S._--The standard of Louis’ cavalry regiment, which they did not
take with them, and which is usually kept at the Schloss, is in my
room for safety.

Forgive the shocking writing, but I am so upset to-night, since my
messenger of Tuesday returned with Louis’ letter.

DARMSTADT, August 4th.

* * * The linen, etc., for the wounded has arrived, and been so
useful; a thousand thanks for it! Matters here change from one day
to another, and I hope Louis may soon be able to return with the
troops. Uncle Louis I do hope and pray will then return, and I hope
he will regain the favor which he had lost, for any change now
would be dreadful.

My father-in-law is really in such a state since these events, and
his nerves so shattered, that my mother-in-law trembles for him,
and tries to keep him out of all. He is so angry, so heartbroken at
the loss of Oberhessen, which is probable, that he wishes not to
outlive it. My poor mama-in-law burst into tears this morning in my
room, where this scene took place.

I have just returned from having been to inquire after the wounded
at the different hospitals and houses, which are filling fast as
they can be brought from Aschaffenburg, Laufach, etc. As soon as I
am better, I will go to them myself; but the close and crowded
wards turn one easily faint.

Becker saw Louis three days ago, and accompanied him to Munich for
a day. I hear he is well, though for six nights he had slept out of
doors, and the last three nights it had poured incessantly; and all
that time--on account of ours not having a truce, and expecting to
be attacked--they were, being such a mass together, without
provisions, barely a morsel of bread. I am so distressed about poor
Anton Hohenzollern and Obernitz; so many acquaintances and friends
have fallen on both sides, it is dreadful!

The town is full of Prussians. I hope they will not remain too
long, for they pay for nothing, and the poor inhabitants suffer so
much. There is cholera in the Prussian army, and one soldier lies
here ill of it. I hope it won’t spread.

August 13th.

* * * It is fearful. Those who have seen the misery war brings with
it, near by--the sufferings, the horror--know well what a scourge
it is. May the Almighty spare our poor Germany this new evil! I
forgot to thank you in Louis’ name, as he had told me, for your
letter, which he found here on his return. He is to-day still at
Berlin, and we are so grateful for your having written to good
Fritz. What he can do I know he will.

Uncle Louis is still at Munich, and I don’t think he will abdicate;
besides, he is at this moment doing what his country wishes.

I received a letter from Julie Battenberg, saying what Uncle
Alexander had written to her about Louis: “_Le Prince Alexandre
m’écrit qu’il a obtenu du Grand Duc la démission de Perglas_” (who
commanded the troops so badly), “_et la nomination du Prince Louis
en commandement de nos troupes; il me dit à cette occasion que
votre Mari pendant cette triste campagne s’est fait aimer et
apprécier de tout le monde qu’il s’est fait une excellente
réputation, et qu’il sera reçu à bras ouverts par la troupe_.” * *
* It is a large command for one so young, and with so little
experience--all the more so, as we don’t know how long peace may
last. He is sent to Berlin, as the country all look to Louis to
prevent new evil; and all this without poor Louis having any direct
position of heir to be able to enforce his opinion. He has no easy
life of it.

The horse you gave Louis he rode in the different engagements, and
praised him very much. He stood the fire quite well, but not the
bursting of the shells close by.

About the children, the 23d is quite soon enough for their
departure.

We shall not call baby “Irène,” unless all seems really peaceful,
and at this moment it does not look promising. I am very sad and
dismayed at the whole lookout. My mother-in-law was so pleased with
your letter, and thanks you warmly for it.

NIERSTEIN, GELBES HAUS, August 17th.

This dear day makes me think so much of you, of home, and of those
two dear ones whose memories are so precious, and who live on with
us, and make me often think that we had parted only yesterday.

We are so pleased at your saying that you claim Louis as _your_
son. He always considers _himself_ in particular your child, and if
any thing helps to stimulate him in doing his duty well, it is the
sincere wish of being worthy to claim and deserve that title.
Darling Papa would be proud of him, and pleased to see how
earnestly he takes his duties, and how conscientiously and
unselfishly he fulfils them, for he has had and still has many
trials--things I can tell you of when we meet again.

Life is such a pilgrimage, and so uncertain is its duration that
all minor troubles are forgotten and easily borne, when one thinks
what one must live for.

Before leaving Darmstadt yesterday to come here, we went to see
some of the wounded again. One poor man had died since I was last
there: he had been so patient, and had suffered so much. Another
had had an operation performed and was very low--he was crying like
a child. I could scarcely comfort him, he held my hand and always
moaned out “_Es brennt so_” [It burns so]. Such nice people most of
those young men are--very young, and for that class so well
educated. All who are well enough are reading.

I must praise the ventilation and cleanliness in the different
hospitals; in these things they have made wonderful progress here.

We are here in Rheinhessen, as Louis has to take his command. This
place, Nierstein, lies between Worms and Mayence, and all our
troops are quartered about here. Louis’ staff is at Worms, where he
himself is to-day, and was already last night.

He was more hopeful about the prospects for Oberhessen on his
return from Berlin, and had been so kindly received by dear Vicky
and Fritz.

When Louis wrote his farewell to his cavalry brigade (who are so
sorry to lose him), as a remembrance that he and they had stood in
the field together for their first campaign, he asked these two
regiments, officers and men, to stand sponsors to baby, as she was
born during that time, and they are delighted, but wish the child
to have one of their names! We wait till the troops can come home
to christen baby on that account. * * * I don’t think we shall be
here very long. Whenever the Prussians leave Darmstadt we can
return.

NIERSTEIN, GELBES HAUS, August 21st.

* * * We are here still, and all our troops, and Louis has a great
deal to do. To-morrow the armistice is over, and at present we have
no news as to its prolongation or the settlement of peace; but it
must be one or other. A little private war of Prussia against us
would be absurd and impossible, so the troops remain quartered in
the little villages about here. The country here is so rich and
fertile, the villages so clean, with such good houses; but the
people are blessed with children to an extraordinary extent! It is
the most richly populated part of all Germany, and there are more
people on the square mile than in England.

The change of air--though it is but two hours from Darmstadt--has
done me good, and if later, through your great kindness, a little
journey should be possible to us, it would be very beneficial to
both of us.

This house is quite close to the Rhine, and this instant our
pioneers have come by from Worms on their pontoon bridge singing a
quartett, about twenty or thirty men. It looks so pretty, and they
sing so beautifully. On their marches the soldiers always sing, and
they have so many beautiful songs, such as: “Der gute Kamerad.” The
Germans are such _gemütklich_ [simple, kindly, sociable] people.
The more one lives with them, the more one learns to appreciate
them. It is a fine nation. God grant this war, which has produced
so many heroes, and cost so many gallant lives, may not have been
in vain, and that at length Germany may become a mighty, powerful
Power! It will then be the first in the world, where the great
ideas and thoughts come from, free from narrow-minded prejudice,
and when once the Germans have attained political freedom, they
will be lastingly happy and united.

But the present state of things is sad, though one should not
despair of some good resulting from it.

My letter is quite confused. I beg a thousand pardons for it, but I
have been interrupted so often.

GELBES HAUS, August 29th.

* * * The children arrived well and safe, and in such good looks.
It was a great pleasure to see them again; and I tried to make
Victoria tell me as much as possible of dear Grandma and uncles and
aunts, and when she is not absent-minded she is very communicative.
How much we thank you, darling Mama, for having kept them and been
so good to them I can’t tell you. This change has been so good for
them; for now there are both cholera and small-pox at Darmstadt,
which is still full of Prussian soldiers. More have come, and our
peace is not yet concluded. I hope it is no bad sign, and that the
hopes of losing less will not disappear.

We were only in Darmstadt for the day when the children arrived,
and we go there for a few hours to-morrow on business. Louis has a
great deal to do, and all the military things are in his hands.

I am not feeling very well. The air here after a few days is
relaxing, and I begin to feel more what a strain there has been on
my nerves during this time. I have such a pain in my side again.
Mountain air Weber wants me to have, and quiet, away from all
bothers; but I fear that is impossible _now_, on account of Louis
not being able to leave--and then financially.

I have some _Heimweh_ [home-sickness] after dear England, Balmoral,
and all at home, I own, though the joy of being near dear Louis
again is _so_ great! But life is meant for work, and not for
pleasure, and I learn more and more to be grateful and content with
that which the Almighty sends me, and to find the sunshine in spite
of the clouds; for when one has one’s beloved, adored husband by
one’s side, what is there in the world that is too heavy to bear?
My own darling Mama, when I think of darling Papa and of you, and
that he is not _visible_ at your side now, I long to clasp you to
my heart, in some way to cheer the loneliness which is a poor
widow’s lot. Oh, none in the world is harder than that!

DARMSTADT, August 31st.

* * * Thank you for telling me how you spent that dear day; it must
have been peaceful and solemn, the beautiful country harmonizing
well with the thoughts of that great and beautiful soul which ever
lives on with us. He remains nearer and nearer to me, and the
recollection of many things dear Papa told me is a help and a stay
in my actions, particularly of late. The separation seems so short.
I can see him and hear him speak so plainly. Alas! my children
have never seen him. Through you, darling Mama, and in your rooms,
and at your side, they must learn to know him, that they may become
worthy of their descent.

Yesterday we saw the children. Victoria is not quite well, but Ella
is well, and won’t leave me when I come into the room; she keeps
kissing me and putting her fat arms round my neck. There is each
time a scene when I go away. She is so affectionate: so is dear
Victoria. I send you a photograph of our smallest, who is such a
pretty child, and very good.

The peace is not concluded yet; more Prussians have been quartered
in and around Darmstadt. The people are very angry at this lasting
so long * * * They believe it is _Strafeinquartierung_ [done to
punish us]. Nothing is settled as to what we keep or lose, and we
know and hear nothing. Waiting here, uncomfortably lodged, the
troops impatient to go home, as they have nothing to do, gets very
irksome.

GELBES HAUS, September 8th.

* * * At last the peace is concluded, though not yet ratified. The
terms are not so bad. We lose the Hinterland and the Domains there,
as also the whole of Hesse-Homburg--in all sixty-four thousand
souls--pay three millions contribution, besides having kept a large
part of the Prussian army six weeks for nothing, which cost the
country twenty-five thousand florins daily. For Oberhessen we go
into the North-German Bund, and half the army is under Prussian
command, which will make a dreadful confusion. Louis would prefer
having it for the whole, particularly in anticipation, alas! of a
coming war.

The railroads, posts, and telegraphs also become Prussian; and they
demand, besides, some fine old pictures, books, and manuscripts,
which had once belonged to the Kölner Dom, and were made a present
of to this country years ago; and for our Domains no
_Entschädigung_ [compensation]. In exchange for Homburg we get some
small places--amongst others, Rumpenheim.

When the peace is ratified and the money paid, the Prussians leave
the country, which must now be very shortly. Until then Louis must
stop here, and as he can only get leave now and then to go to
Darmstadt, and that always uncertain, baby’s christening is still
impossible, as Louis must be there. She will be called “Irène
Louise Marie Anna.”

GELBES HAUS, September 11th.

* * * Tired of constantly putting off and waiting, we settled
yesterday to have baby christened to-morrow, as it is Louis’
birthday, and to go for the day to Darmstadt. Though the Prussians
are still there, some of the godfathers are coming over; otherwise
it will be quite quiet.

* * * How true and sad is what you say, dear Mama, about life and
its trials! Alas! that it should be you, dear, loving, kind Mama,
who have had to drink so deeply of that cup of bitterness. Those
who possess all they love, as I do, can, however, feel all the more
keenly, and sympathize more truly with you for what you have lost,
though it is a grief we do not know. How I do long always to
alleviate this grief for you, dearest Mama; but that is the world’s
trial. None can bear the burden for you. One must carry it one’s
self; and it wants patience and courage to bear such as yours, dear
Mama. I feel for you now more than ever since during that month I
feared from day to day my happy life might be brought to a violent
close, and anticipated all the misery that _might_ come, but which
the Almighty graciously averted.

DARMSTADT, September 16th.

* * * That you sent Louis, besides the pretty souvenir, the money
for something in the house is really so kind. Our whole dining-room
we consider your present, and it is furnished as like an English
one as possible.

The name Irene,[64] through other associations, is one my
parents-in-law and we like; it stands, besides, as a sort of
recollection of the peace so longed for, and which I so gladly
welcomed. It will always reminds us of the time, and of how much we
have to be grateful for.

DARMSTADT, September 24th.

* * * We are settled here again; our troops have returned and Uncle
Louis likewise. The former were received most warmly by the
inhabitants and showered with nosegays--Louis also, who rode at
their head. We saw them all in front of the Schloss, and it was sad
to see the thinned ranks and to miss the absent faces we knew so
well. On the 13th and 14th of July, at Frohnhofen, Laufach, and
Aschaffenburg, out of 8,000 we lost 800 men and 11 officers, and of
the officers just those who were very intimate with the Prussians,
and who wished Germany to be united under Prussia.

This afternoon we are going to see after the poor wounded, some of
whom are still very ill with such horrible wounds. So much
suffering and pain and grief to those poor people, who are
innocent in this unhappy war!

If only now the other sovereigns will forget their antipathies and
the wrongs they have suffered from Prussia, and think of the real
welfare of their people and the universal fatherland, and make
those sacrifices which will be necessary to prevent the recurrence
of these misfortunes!

The poor Homburgers marched by with our troops, and their tears and
ours fell as we saw them (who had fought so bravely under Uncle
Louis) for the last time before they become Prussians, and return
to their homes as such.

My parents-in-law are gone to Switzerland. Henry is become Colonel
of the 2d Guard of Uhlans at Berlin.

October 1st.

* * * I can but write a few lines, as we are going with the
children to Uncle Alexander to Jugenheim for a few days. The change
of air is wanted for Ella, who is still pale; and Irene has never
had any change yet, and is also rather pale.

We were at Frohnhofen and Laufach a few days ago to see where the
unfortunate engagement was, and visited the graves of our soldiers.
In the middle of a field there is a mound, below which some eighty
men and some officers lie, and so on. It makes a very sad
impression, for as our troops retreated, and they were buried by
the people, none know which of the common soldiers or even which of
the officers lie in the different places. We found some balls, and
things the soldiers had thrown off during the fight. In one grave
in the churchyard, the wounded who died afterward are buried. I
asked who lay there, and the gravedigger answered “_Ein Preuss’
und ein Hess’ liegen dort beisammen_” [“A Prussian and a Hessian
lie there together”], united in death, and fallen by each other’s
hand, perhaps. Some of the officers who accompanied us, and had not
been there since the engagement, were much overcome on seeing the
graves of their comrades. I put wreaths and flowers on them, and
ordered crosses where we knew who lay there.

The wounded here are recovering, and I go often to see after them.

As you say, this large Prussia is by no means an united Germany;
but, nevertheless, I think the duty of the other German sovereigns,
in spite of all, is to unite with Prussia and place themselves
under her, so as to make her unite with Germany. Otherwise, the
next opportunity, they will be annexed.

HEILIGENBURG, _Jugenheim_, October 7th.

* * * We return to town to-day, leaving the children for another
week, as the air on the hill is so delicious. Louis has so much to
do that he can’t remain away longer, though he went at half-past
seven every morning to his office, returning for luncheon.

DARMSTADT, October 22d.

On Thursday we are going to Waldleiningen for a fortnight and take
Victoria with us. The two little girls knew your photograph at
once, and began, of course, to talk of you and of England.

WALDLEININGEN, October 31st.

* * * It is quite beautiful here. We found dear Ernest, Marie and
children well; the former so kind and dear, as they always are.
Victoria and Alberta get on tolerably together. The little boy is
splendid, so strong and fat.

The Castle is so fine and lies just in the midst of mountains and
woods, and there are walks without end--many of them reminding me
so much of Scotland.

The Nichels came to see us, and Marie and I played with Nichel[65];
it reminded me so much of the good old times to see him.

Ella’s birthday is to be kept when we return. She is too small to
know the difference of the day. I thank you beforehand for the
locket for her with dear Papa’s picture. The children always speak
of their two Grandpapas--dear Grandpapa in Heaven, and dear
Grandpapa in Darmstadt. Victoria, hearing Papa so often mentioned,
and seeing his pictures about everywhere, asks no end of questions
about him.

DARMSTADT, November 14th.

I am better, thank you, but I am so weak without the least reason,
and dreadfully chilly. Still, I go out regularly in all weathers
and take exercise, but of an evening I am quite knocked up.

We always breakfast at half past eight, as Louis gets up early and
prefers it; so that I lead a very healthy life, and in spite of
that am not well. A change quite into another climate, for a few
months was what I really required; but it was impossible. On that
account, dear Mama, I shall hope to have a full three months in
England when we come, and perhaps part of the time with Bertie, if
he can have us. I went through a great deal this summer during my
confinement. The excitement and the will to keep well kept me so at
the time, but I feel it now, alas! and show it, too, for I am
getting so thin again.

DARMSTADT, November 21st.

Dear Vicky’s birthday. She will think how happily she passed it at
Windsor last year, and, though she has another child, it cannot
replace to her what the other one was.

How glad I am to hear you praise dear Alix! She is so good,
_tactvoll_ [full of tact] and true. I love her very much.

I had the pleasure of seeing dear Countess Blücher for a few hours
here last Sunday. She came during a dreadful snowstorm. The young
King of Bavaria is coming here for the day to-morrow. * * *

The large pictures from Homburg--George III., Queen Charlotte,
George IV., William IV., and the Duke of York _en pied_--Uncle
Louis has given us, and now that I have given these good people,
whom I don’t like, the best places in our rooms, I should so much
like you and dear Papa, which you promised me some years ago from
the last Winterhalters, or from those in the garter dress.

I look forward so much to seeing dear Bertie here, if only for a
few hours. I suppose Monday or Sunday, if he travels day and night,
as he leaves on Friday; it is a very long and cold journey.

November 22d.

A thousand thanks for the precious book,[66] and for your dear
lines. The former I have nearly finished. I got it yesterday
morning, and you can well imagine that every spare moment was
devoted to its study.

I think it very well done, and I am only sorry that General Grey
cannot continue it, as the other persons, I believe, did not know
dear Papa. The longer I live, the more I see and know of the world,
the deeper my tender admiration grows for such a father. It makes
me feel myself so small, so imperfect, when I think that I am his
child, and am still so unworthy of being it. How many people here
who like to hear of dear Papa, ask me about him, and you can
understand with what pride and love I talk of him, and tell them
things which make them all share our sorrow at not having him here
any more! But if ever a life has outlived a man, dear Papa’s has
done so. In my thoughts and aims he ever remains the centre and the
guiding star. Dear beloved Papa, he never half knew, how much, even
when a foolish child, I loved and adored him. His great life will
be a model for many and many for generations to come, and his great
thoughts and aims can leave none idle who knew them.

You kindly ask how I am. Better, thank you, since I have begun some
bark--quinine I can’t take, or else I should have been well sooner.

Victoria I am teaching to read--in playing with cards with
different letters on them.

November 30th.

To-day it is six whole years since we were engaged to each other in
the Red Drawing-room at Windsor, when we in dear Papa’s little room
afterward received your and dear Papa’s sanction to it. And the
following year--how sad that already was, for darling Papa was
beginning to be unwell. How constantly do I think of you, beloved
Mama, during that fortnight of anxiety and sorrow! God mercifully
spare you to us, though for yourself it was the commencement of the
sad and lonely existence you lead without dear Papa.

I am sure it is good for little Henry[67] to be this winter with
you in England: the Berlin climate is very unwholesome. Health is
such a blessing. If one has children, the first wish is they should
be healthy, for ill health influences all, and nothing more than
temper.

We intend, if possible, going for a day or two to Carlsruhe. Poor
Louise and Fritz went through so much that is painful this summer.
* * *

I read an immense deal now of serious, and what some call dry,
books; but it is a great resource to me, and the thought of
standing still, if one does not study, urges me on. The long winter
evenings we always spend together, and twice in the week receive in
the evening, when I play on the piano duets with such as play on
the violin, and pass the evenings very pleasantly.

CARLSRUHE, December 6th.

Thousand thanks for your dear letter! I congratulate you on all
having gone off so well at Wolverhampton,[68] and am very grateful
for the account. Dear Bertie’s visit is over, and it has been a
very great pleasure to us to have seen him again, and to have him
under our own roof--where we at length had an opportunity, in a
small way, to return his hospitality and constant kindness to us.
God bless him, dear brother! he is the one who has from my
childhood been so dear to me.

We have come here, and I think it has pleased good Fritz. Louis
seems very well. I saw Lady Fanny Baillie yesterday, looking dear
and pretty as ever. It is a pleasure to look at her sweet face.

CARLSRUHE, December 11th.

As every year during _these days_ my thoughts are with you, and as
each year brings round again the anniversary of that dreadful
misfortune, it seems more and more impossible that five years
should already have elapsed, since he whom we all loved so tenderly
was taken from our sight. How I thank the Almighty again and again,
as this season returns, that He spared you to us, when at such a
moment, we trembled for your precious life, fearing that two so
united in life even in death could not be parted. What should we
poor children, what would the country have done, had that second
misfortune come over us! Yet it seemed selfish and unkind to wish
for your loving wife’s heart the solitary widow’s existence. How
bravely and nobly you have borne it!

We leave this to-morrow morning, and have spent pleasant days here.
There was much to talk about together, and Fritz is so excellent
and so wise, that I am always glad to hear him. Dear Louise is well
and in good looks, and most kind.

Now I must end beloved Mama. God bless you and comfort you, and in
these days let sometimes the thought of your absent child, who was
at your side during that dreadful time, mingle with the
recollection of the past!

DARMSTADT, December 14th.

BELOVED, PRECIOUS MAMA:--On awaking this morning, my first thoughts
were of you and of dear, darling Papa! Oh, how it reopens the
wounds scarcely healed, when this day of pain and anguish returns!
This season of the year the leafless trees, the cold light, every
thing reminds me of that time!

Thousand thanks for your dear letter received yesterday. _Well_,
only _too well_, do I remember every hour, almost every minute, of
those days, and I have such an inexpressible longing to throw my
arms round your neck, and to let my tears flow with yours, while
kneeling at that beautiful grave.

The tender love and the deep sorrow caused by His loss remain ever
with me, and will accompany me through life. At the age I then was,
with its sensitive feelings, it made an impression which, I think,
nothing can efface--above all, the witnessing your grief. Happily
married as I am, and with such a good, excellent, and loving
husband, how far more can I understand _now_ the depth of that
grief which tore your lives asunder! I played our dear Papa’s organ
under his beloved picture this morning, and my heart and my
thoughts were in dear England with you all.

We found our children well on our return, and Irène prospers
perfectly on her donkey’s milk.

My mother-in-law is so much pleased with the book,[69] and it has
interested her very much. She came to see me early this morning on
account of its being the 14th. She is always so kind and full of
attentions.

DARMSTADT, December 17th.

How dear of you to have written to me on the 14th; thousand thanks
for your letter! How much I thought of _all_ on that day you can
imagine; also what good it did me to know that you still thought of
me so kindly with those recollections. I am so sorry to hear that
you are so suffering. I hope Osborne will do you good, and that
rest and quiet will refresh you.

DARMSTADT, December 21st.

* * * I hope by this time that you are quite recovered, though this
mild damp weather is not made to give one strength. I feel it so
much also, and am really only kept alive by steel, for off and on I
am so weak that I nearly faint if I have to stand any time, and
this is so unpleasant.

* * * I am trying to found what is no small undertaking: a
“_Frauen-Verein_” to be spread all over the land in different
committees, the central one being here under my direction, for the
purpose of assisting the International Convention for nursing and
supporting the troops in time of war, which was founded at Geneva,
and to which this country also belongs. The duty in time of peace
will be to have nurses brought up and educated for the task, who
can then assist in other hospitals or amongst the poor, or to nurse
the rich, wherever they may be required in time of war. This
committee of women has to collect all the necessary things for the
wounded and for the marching troops, has to see to their being sent
to right places, etc.

All these things were done by private people in this war, and,
though quantities of things were sent, the whole plan was not
organized, so that there was want and surplus at the same time.

In time of peace these things should be organized, so that, when
war comes, people know where to send their things to, and that no
volunteer nurses go out who have not first learnt their business.

The same thing exists in Baden, in Bavaria, and in Prussia, and
here it is much wanted. But all these undertakings are difficult,
particularly in the choice of persons to assist one. Still I hope I
shall be able to do it. My mother-in-law helps me, and I hope
before long to be able to begin.

The Elector is coming here on a visit to-day, and Uncle Alexander
returned from Petersburg last night.

DARMSTADT, December 25th.

* * * I have a dreadful cold, and am not very well besides, so I
can but scribble a few lines. To-day we go to the _Bescheerung_
[distribution of Christmas gifts] to the wounded in three
hospitals. Of course it will be very hot.

Henry is here for a few days. He looks so handsome in his new
uniform with his dark beard. He has grown so good-looking these
last few years, and he is so excellent. I am very fond of him. He
is likewise so much gayer than formerly.

The good eatables you sent will be given to-night, when Louis’
parents and brothers come to us for dinner.

The children have a party for their tree.

DARMSTADT, December 30th.

* * * May the Almighty give you every blessing of peace and comfort
which the world can still give you, till you gain that greater
blessing and reward above all others, which is reserved for such as
my own sweet mother! May every blessing fall on my old dear home,
with all its dear ones! May peace, and the glory which peace and
order bring with it, with its many blessings, protect my native
land; and may, in the new year, your wise and glorious reign, so
overshadowed by dear Papa’s spirit, continue to prosper and be a
model and an ornament to the world!

This year of pain and anxiety, and yet for us so rich in blessings,
draws to a close. It moves me more than ever as its last day
approaches. For how much have we not to thank the Almighty--for my
life, which is so unworthy compared to many others, the new life of
this little one, and above all the preservation of my own dear
husband, who is my all in this life.

The trials of this year must have brought some good with all the
evil: good to the individual and good to the multitude. God grant
that we may all profit by what we have learnt, and gain more and
more that trust in God’s justice and love, which is our guide and
support in trouble and in joy! Oh, more than ever have I felt in
this year, that God’s goodness and love are indeed beyond
comprehension!

* * * I am really glad to hear that you can listen to a little
music. Music is such a heavenly thing, and dear Papa loved it so
much, that I can’t but think that now it must be soothing, and
bring you near to him. * * *

1867.

The experiences of the late war had shown the necessity for an efficient and widespread organization for aid to the sick and wounded on the battlefield. Already in 1865 a society had been formed in Hesse, with Prince and Princess Charles as its patrons, in accordance with the resolutions passed at the Geneva Convention in 1863, and had done good work in the last war. The nursing of the wounded had hitherto been undertaken by “Deaconesses,” Sisters of Mercy, and orders of a kindred nature.