Part 14
What a fright the news of dear Leopold’s dangerous attack has given us! Mr. Sahl’s letter to Becker arrived yesterday afternoon containing the bad news, and he spoke of so _little_ hope, that I was so upset and so dreadfully distressed for the dear darling, for you, poor Mama, and for us all, that I am quite unwell still to-day.
When your telegram came to-day, and Louise’s letter, I was so relieved and only pray and hope that the improvement may continue. May God spare that young bright and gifted life, to be a comfort and support to you for many a year to come!
Had I only had a telegram! for, the letter being two days old, until your telegram came I passed six such agonizing hours! Away from home, every news of illness or sorrow there is so difficult to bear--when one can share all the anxiety and trouble only _in thought_.
The day passes so slowly without news, and I am always looking toward the door to see if a telegram is coming. Please let me hear regularly till he is quite safe; I do love the dear boy, as I do all my brothers and sisters, so tenderly!
How I wish you had been spared this new anxiety! Those two days must have been dreadful!
Darling Mama, how I wish I were with you! God grant that in future you may send us only good news.
Louis and my parents-in-law send their respectful love and the expression of their warmest sympathy, in which the other members of the family join.
February 2d.
How glad and truly thankful I am, that the Almighty has saved our darling Leopold and spared him to you and to us all! For the second or even third time that life has been given again, when all feared that it must leave us! A mother’s heart must feel this so much more than any other one’s, and dear Leopold, through having caused you all his life so much anxiety, must be inexpressibly dear to you, and such an object to watch over and take care of. Indeed from the depth of my heart I thank God with you for having so mercifully spared dear Leo, and watched over him when death seemed so near!
You will feel deeply now the great joy of seeing a convalescence after the great danger, and I know, through a thousand little things, how your loving and considerate heart will find pleasure and consolation in cheering your patient.
That for the future you must ever be so anxious is a dreadful trial, but it is to be hoped that Leo will yet outgrow this strange illness. I am sure good Archie[85] takes great care of him, and by this time he will have gathered plenty of experience to be a good nurse.
Baby is better, but her poor head and face are perfectly covered with spots, and she was in despair with the smarting and itching, and of course rubbed herself quite sore. Ella has it slightly since this morning.
DARMSTADT, February 13th.
* * * First let me wish you joy for the birth of this new grandson,[86] born on your dear wedding-day. I thought of you on the morning of the 10th, and meant to telegraph, but those dreadful neuralgic pains came on before I had time to look about me, and really laid me prostrate for the whole day, as they lasted so very long. I have never felt so unwell, or suffered so much in my life, and this moment, sitting up in Louis’ room, I feel more weak than I have ever felt on first getting up after my confinements. Quinine has kept me free from pain to-day, and I hope will do so to-morrow. I have been in bed a week and touched absolutely nothing all the time. Yesterday evening, as throughout the day, I had had (but much more slightly) a return of these agonizing attacks, which seized my left eye, ear, and the whole left side of my head and nose. I got up and sat in Louis’ room; I could only bear it for two hours, and all but fainted before I reached my bed. If I can get strength, and have no return of pain, I hope to go out after to-morrow. I could not see the children or any one during this week, and always had my eyes closed, first from pain, and then from exhaustion when the pain left me. I really thought I should go out of my mind, and you know I can stand a tolerable amount of pain.
February 17th.
* * * I am so distressed that you remained so long without news. I was really for a whole week quite incapable of _any idea_ about any thing, and had mostly my eyes shut, and was constantly alone, as I could not bear any one in the room.
General Plonsky, the Corps Commandant from Cassel, came here unexpectedly, and Louis, being under his command, was so taken up during those days, besides an immense deal of military business, that I never saw him more than a few minutes in the morning; and during his free time in the afternoon he sat, like the best nurse in the world, near my bed in the dark room, putting wet rags on my head and trying by every possible means to alleviate my pains. He was touching in the great care he took of me. Louis and Harriet did all for me, and I could bear no one else about me. You see, poor Louis had no time to write, and he always thought that I should be well the next day and write myself.
DARMSTADT, February 24th.
To my and, I fear, dear Vicky’s great disappointment, Dr. Weber won’t let me go to Berlin, and wants me to go to Wiesbaden for a cold-water cure instead. The latter will be intensely dull, as I shall be there for four weeks all alone; but I believe it will be very beneficial, as with every year I seem to get more rheumatic, which at my age is of course not good.
We shall hope to be able to come to Windsor, middle of June, as you desire. The exact time you will kindly let us know later.
DARMSTADT, March 9th.
* * * Louis left yesterday morning for Munich. It is a twelve hours’ journey. There is a procession on foot at the funeral, going to the church through the town, which will last about two hours, and then a very long ceremony in the large, cold Basilica.[87]
DARMSTADT, March 14th.
I send you a few lines to-day for the 16th, the anniversary of the first great sorrow which broke in upon your happy life. How well do I recollect how I accompanied you and dear Papa down to Frogmore that night, our dinner in the flower room, the dreadful watching in the corridor, and then the so painful end! Darling Papa looked so pale, so deeply distressed, and was so full of tender sympathy for you. He told me to go to you and comfort you, and was so full of love and commiseration as I have never seen any man before or after. Dear, sweet Papa! that in that same year we should live together through such another heart-rending scene again, and he not there to comfort or support you, poor Mama!
It sometimes, even at this distance of time, seems nearly impossible that we should have lived through such times, and yet be alive and resigned.
God’s mercy is indeed great; for He sends a balm to soothe and heal the bruised and faithful heart, and to teach one to accommodate one’s self to one’s sorrow, so as to know how to bear it!
DARMSTADT, April 2d.
* * * Louis is in a most unpleasant crisis with the Ministry and the Grand Duke. I don’t know how it will end.
DARMSTADT, April 5th.
Only two words to-day, as my heart is so full of love and gratitude to you who took such care of me this day five years ago, who heard Victoria’s first cry, and were such a comfort and help to us both. All these recollections make Victoria doubly dear to us, and, as in this world one never knows what will happen, I hope that you will always watch over our dear child, and let her be as dear to you as though she had been one of us.
We have spent the day very sadly and quietly together. Louis’ affairs have taken such a turn that he has been obliged to tender the Grand Duke his resignation, as he does not consider it compatible with his honor to remain, under existing circumstances. He has made a great sacrifice to his duty and honor, but doing one’s duty brings the reward with it of a clear conscience.
April 3d.
* * * The King of Prussia has sent General von Bonin here to speak seriously with the Grand Duke, and prove to him through papers, etc., that he has not kept his word, and that he has been very badly advised, and that Louis was quite in the right. The result has been that the poor Grand Duke is scandalized at the state of affairs, and that he really seems to have been more in the dark than was supposed. He gives Louis the command again, sends away the whole _Kriegsministerium_ [War Department], to be reorganized more simply, and with other people, according to Louis’ proposals; and so all _military_ affairs will be in order, and Louis have much greater power to carry out all that has to be done.
We are so pleased at all having turned out thus far well, and know that you will share our feelings. Louis gets more work and a great responsibility; but he has proved himself so capable in every respect, so active and hard-working, that I think and trust he will overcome all difficulties.
I go alone to Gotha, and Louis will follow as soon as he can, so as to spend my birthday there.
I am so distressed at dear, good Sir James [Clark’s] illness. I hope and trust that this precious old friend will still be spared for a few years at least.
GOTHA, April 25th.
* * * It is now eleven years since I spent my birthday with dear Vicky, and she has been so dear and kind, and dear Aunt and Uncle likewise. We spend the day quite quietly together, and the bad weather prevents any expeditions.
After to-morrow we go home.
DARMSTADT, May 4th.
Accept my best thanks for your last letter written on dear Arthur’s birthday. The playing of the band I am sure gave him pleasure; but it would be too painful for _all_ ever to have it again on the terrace as formerly. There are certain tunes which that Marine Band used to play, which, when I have chanced to hear them elsewhere, have quite upset me, so powerful does the recollection of those so very happy birthdays at Osborne remain upon me! Those happy, happy days touch me even to tears when I think of them. What a joyous childhood we had, and how greatly it was enhanced by dear, sweet Papa, and by all your great kindness to us!
I try to copy as much as lies in my power all these things for our children, that they may have an idea, when I speak to them of it, of what a happy home ours was.
I do feel so much for dear Beatrice and the other younger ones, who had so much less of it than we had!
DARMSTADT, May 11th.
For your sake I am sorry that my condition should cause you anxiety, for you have enough of that, God knows. But I am so well this time that I hope and trust all may go well, though one is never sure. It is this conviction which I always have, and which makes me serious and thoughtful, as who can know whether with the termination of this time my life may not also terminate?
This is also one of the reasons why I long so very much to see you, my own precious Mama, this summer, for I cling to you with a love and gratitude, the depth of which I know I can never find words or means to express. After a year’s absence I wish so intensely to behold your dear, sweet, loving face again, and to press my lips on your dear hands. The older I grow the more I value and appreciate that mother’s love which is unique in the world; and having, since darling Papa’s death, only you, the love to my parents and to adored Papa’s memory is all centred in _you_.
Louis has leave from the 11th of June to the 11th of August.
Uncle Ernest is coming here to-day for the day, from Frankfort, where he has been to a cattle-show. Uncle Adalbert is here, so much pleased with having seen you again, singing the praise of both Lenchen and Louise, which of course I joined in, as it is such a pleasure to hear others admire and appreciate my dear sisters.
DARMSTADT, May 14th.
I know you will be grieved to hear that we all have had the grief of losing good, excellent Jäger.[88] He was, on the whole, better and was out daily, and he went to bed as usual, when in the middle of the night he called one of the men, and before they could come to his assistance he expired, having broken a blood-vessel. Poor Katrinchen’s despair and grief were quite heart-rending, when we went together to see our true and valued servant for the last time. I was so upset by the whole, that it was some days before I got over it. We made wreaths to put on his coffin, which was covered with flowers sent from all sides, and we both were at the door with our servants when he was carried out, and tried to console the poor, unfortunate _Braut_ [bride], who remained at home.
He was the best servant one could find; never, since he has been in our service, had he been found fault with by any one. He was good, pious, and gentle, and very intelligent. The death of a good man, who has fulfilled his allotted duty in this world as a good Christian ought, touches one deeply, and we have really mourned for him as for a friend, for he was one in the true sense of the word. Jäger rests alongside my poor Willem, in the pretty little cemetery here; a bit of my heart went with them.
Fritz, on his way back from Italy, spent a few hours with us, and told us much of his journey. He heard the strangest rumors of France intending to break out in sudden hostilities with Germany, and asked me what you thought of a probability of a war for this summer. I hope to God, that nothing horrid of that sort will happen! Do you think it likely, dear Mama?
DARMSTADT, May 19th.
My own darling and most precious Mama, the warmest and tenderest wishes that grateful children can form for a beloved parent we both form for you, and these lines but weakly express all I would like to say. May God bless and watch over a life so precious and so dear to many! It is now six years since I spent that dear day near you, but I hope that some time or other we shall be allowed to do so. Our joint present is a medal for you with our heads. We had it made large in oxidized silver on purpose for you. I myself have braided and embroidered, with Christa’s help (who begged to be allowed to do something for you), a trimming for a dress, which I hope you will like and wear. It took a deal of my time, and my thoughts were so much with you while I was doing it, that I quite regretted its completion.
We are having a bracelet with our miniatures and the three children’s in it made for you, but unfortunately it is not finished, so we shall bring it and give it to you ourselves.
DARMSTADT, May 29th.
* * * The intense heat remains the same, and becomes daily less endurable here in town--the result on my unfortunate person being a very painful rash which itches beyond all description. I hope it won’t increase.
How I envy you at Balmoral! the very thought of that air makes me better.
OSBORNE, August 6th.
I was just sitting down to write to you when Ernest came in with your dear letter. Thousand thanks for it! These parting lines will be such a clear companion to me on our journey. I can’t tell you how much I felt taking leave of you this time, dear Mama; it always is such a wrench to tear myself away from you and my home again. Where I have so, oh, so much to be thankful and grateful to you for, I always fear that I can never express my thanks as warmly as I feel them, which I do indeed from the bottom of my heart. God bless you, darling Mama, for all your love and kindness; and from the depth of my heart do I pray that nothing may cause you such anxiety and sorrow again as you have had to bear of late. * * *
When I left you at the pier the return to the empty house was so sad! It felt quite strange, and by no means pleasant, to be here without you and all the others. We lunched alone with Victoria, and dined in the hot dining-room with the ladies and gentlemen, sitting on the terrace afterward.
It has rained all the morning, and is most oppressive. As it is so foggy, we have to leave at two; but there is no wind, and I hope the sea will be quite smooth. I am sure you must feel lonely and depressed on this journey, poor Mama; but the change of scene and beautiful nature enjoyed in rest and quiet must surely do you good.
KRANICHSTEIN, August 10th.
* * * We left Osborne at two on Thursday in rain and wind. The children and I were dreadfully sick an hour after starting, but the passage got smoother later; and, though I was very wretched in every way, I was not sick again. The same sort of weather on the _Alberta_ next morning, but it cleared up later. The Rhine steamer was very comfortable, and Doctor Minter accompanied us to Dordrecht. The last afternoon and night on board I suffered dreadfully. Since I arrived here, I am better, but not right yet. Had it not been for your great kindness in giving us the ship, I am sure I should not have got home right. This awful heat adds to my feelings of fatigue and discomfort.
KRANICHSTEIN, August 11th.
I have just received your letter, from Lucerne, and hasten to thank you for it.
How glad I am that you admire the beautiful scenery, and that I know it, and can share your admiration and enjoyment of it in thought with you! It is most lovely. The splendid forms, and the color of the lake, are two things that we don’t know in dear Scotland, and which are so peculiar to Swiss scenery.
Louis is in town from eight till our two o’clock dinner, and has a great deal to do.
For your sake as for my own I long for a respite from this unbearable heat, which is so weakening and trying.
KRANICHSTEIN, August 16th.
* * * How satisfactory the accounts of dear good Arthur are! From the depth of my heart do I congratulate you on all that Colonel Elphinstone says about his character, for with a real moral foundation, and a strict sense of duty and of what is right and wrong, he will have a power to combat the temptations of the world and those within himself. I am sure that he will grow up to be a pride and pleasure to you, and an honor to his country.
Brown must have been glad to be allowed to continue wearing his kilt, and, as it is a national dress, it is far more natural that he should give it up nowhere. I am sure that he and Annie[89] must admire the place.
KRANICHSTEIN, August 26th.
I have just received your dear letter, and am so pleased to hear that you enjoyed your excursion, and that you have now seen the sort of wild scenery high up in the mountains, which I think so beautiful and grand in Switzerland. For all admirers of that style of scenery there is nothing to be compared to Switzerland.
Since it became cool again I have had neuralgia in my head, and I have had a dreadful sty, which had to be cut open, and made me quite faint and sick for the whole day. In spite of it I went to the station here, with a thick veil on, to see the Russian relations pass two days ago. The Emperor looks even more altered and worn since last year, and is suddenly grown so old.
KRANICHSTEIN, September 4th.
* * * How too delightful your expeditions must have been! I do rejoice that, through the change of weather, you should have been able to see and enjoy all that glorious scenery. Without your good ponies and Brown, etc., you would have felt how difficult such ascents are for common mortals, particularly when the horses slip, and finally sit down. I am sure all this will have done you good; seeing such totally new beautiful scenery does refresh so immensely, and the air and exertion--both of which you seem to bear so well now--will do your health good.
Yesterday we both were two hours at Jugenheim. To-day the two little cousins are coming to see my children.
Louis’ business is increasing daily, and until the 19th, manœuvres, inspections, etc., won’t be over. He will even have to be away on his birthday, which is a great bore. There is a great review for the Emperor on Saturday.
September 15th.
* * * Like a foolish frightened creature as I am, I have worried myself so much about this sudden talk of war and threatening in all the French papers, saying that October, November, or thereabouts would be a good time to begin. Do tell me, if you think there is the least reasonable apprehension for any thing of that sort this year. I have such confidence in your opinion, and you can imagine how in my present condition I must tremble before a recurrence of all I went through in 1866!
I am so grieved that you should be so unwell on the journey home. Dear beautiful Scotland will do you good. I envy your going there, and wish I could be with you, for I am so fond of it. Remember me to all the good people.
DARMSTADT, October 28th.
* * * The Queen of Prussia is coming to lunch with us on Saturday on her way to Coblenz.
I have a cold these last days, and Victoria is still confined to the house with her swelled neck. She had quite lost her appetite, and I tried some porridge for her, which she enjoys, and I hope it will fatten her up a little, for she is so thin and pale. Would you please order a small barrel of oatmeal to be sent to me? Dr. Weber thinks it would be very good for Victoria, and one cannot get it here.
DARMSTADT, November 20th.
It is with the greatest interest that I read about the Mausoleum,[90] as I was very anxious to know whether all would be finished. Having been present before at all the important steps in the progress of this undertaking, I feel very sorry to be absent at the last, and I shall be very impatient to see it all again.
Winter has quite set in now here, and when there is no wind the cold is very pleasant.
DARMSTADT, December 4th.
Thousand thanks for all your dear kind wishes, for your first letter to me, for the one to Louis, and finally for the eatables! I can’t tell you how touched, how pleased we both are at the kind interest all at home have shown us on this occasion. It has really enhanced our pleasure at the birth of our little son, to receive so many marks of sympathy and attachment from those in my dear native home, and in my present one. My heart is indeed overflowing with gratitude for all God’s blessings.
The time itself was very severe, but my recovery is up to now the best I have ever made, and I feel comparatively strong and well.