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

Part 17

Chapter 174,120 wordsPublic domain

Simultaneously with the aid to the sick and wounded, those who had been rendered widows, orphans, or destitute by the war were cared for through the Princess’ exertions; and “The Alice Society for the Education and Employment of Women” did good service. Out of this Society sprang the “Alice Lyceum,” which was intended for the intellectual culture of women of the higher classes. Lectures were to be delivered in it on all the interesting subjects of the day. This Lyceum continued for some years to attract a more or less numerous audience. In the first winter of its existence lectures on English and German Literature, the History of Art, German History, and Natural History were given. The lady at the head of it was Fräulein Louise Büchner. Its subsequent failure was caused by numerous external difficulties, and not because the original idea for which it had been founded had proved otherwise than sound.

The little new-born Prince continued to thrive, and the Princess made a comparatively quick recovery. The Crown Princess of Prussia, who was then living at Homburg, came constantly to see her sister; and later on, in November, they went together to Berlin. The christening of the little Prince, who was to bear the name of the victorious general of Weissenburg and Wörth, was deferred till his father’s return.

Prince Louis had garrisoned Fort St. Privat on the 29th of October, and saw the 173,000 French prisoners and Imperial Guard pass before Prince Frederick Charles of Prussia.

On the 30th the troops marched farther into the interior of the country. Troyes was reached on the 10th of November, a few days later Fontainebleau, and soon after the troops confronted the “Army of the Loire” at Toury. The battle of Orleans took place on the 3d and 4th of December, and on the 5th the victorious troops made the entry into the town. Part of the Hessian division moved along the left bank of the Loire, and fought the engagement of Montlivault on the 9th of December; the other part of it surprised and took possession of the Castle of Chambord, with five guns and many prisoners. Blois was soon after taken; and from the 10th of December till the 14th of February, 1871, the headquarters were at Orleans. During the expedition against General Chanzy the Hessian division alone guarded the line of the Loire from Gien to Blois.

January 8th.

* * * My three girls have had fearful colds--Ella bronchitis, which Ernie also took from her, and during twelve hours we were in the very greatest anxiety about him; the difficulty of breathing and his whole state caused great alarm. Thank God, he is now quite convalescent; but those were hours of intense suffering for me, as you can imagine. Weber is most attentive and most kind on such occasions, and in such moments one is so dependent on the doctor.

* * * Some very good lectures have been given here lately, undertaken by a committee, which we are at the head of, and of which Mr. Morier is a member. They have been a great success hitherto, and we are going to one to-night by Kinkel, who in 1848 was a refugee in England, and is now a professor at Zürich.

January 16th.

BELOVED MAMA:--We are very grateful for your kind enquiries, and for your letter received this morning. The violence of the fever and the great pain in the throat have abated, and dear Louis is going on favorably. The nights are not good as yet, and his head pains him.

I am cut off from all intercourse with any one in the house, on account of the dear children; and I trust they may escape, for they still cough, particularly Ella and Ernie. I see Christa when I am out walking, not otherwise, as she comes in contact with the part of the house where the children live. I read to Louis, and play to him, as my sitting-room opens into the bedroom. I keep the rooms well aired, and not hot, and at night I sleep on a sofa near his bed. The first two nights were anxious ones, and I was up all night alone with him; but now, thank God, all seems to be going well. * * *

January 20th.

I am happy to say that all is going on well. Louis has no more fever, but his throat is still far from well; it has still the character of diphtheria, though in a mild form--a sort of skin and bits of blood come away when he coughs. He is a very good patient, and I leave him very little alone save when I take my walks, which in this high cold wind are very unpleasant. I hear Ella is still so hoarse and coughs, and Victoria is not quite well. Orchard writes to me every evening, and Dr. Weber sees them in the morning before he comes downstairs.

This instant Weber tells me that Victoria has the scarlet-fever, and I have just been up to see her. She suffers very much, poor child; the fever is very high and the rash much out. It is too late now to separate the others, and those who are not predisposed will escape; but those who are inclined to take it have it in them by this time.

It is a source of great anxiety. Orchard and Emma have never had it. * * *

January 23d.

I was very glad to get your dear lines of the 22d, full of sympathy for me during this anxious time. Victoria’s fever has been very high; and so much discomfort and pain, with a dreadful cough, which she has had for the last six weeks. She is very low, and cries every now and then from weakness, etc., but is a very good patient, poor little one. Amelung comes every afternoon and sits with her, and she is a great favorite with the children, as she knows countless pretty stories.

Louis is not out of bed yet, on account of his throat, etc.; but he is much better, though in this treacherous climate, which is so proverbially bad for throats and lungs, I fear that even with the greatest care there is a risk.

The other children are as yet well, though I don’t think Ella looking well; she has still a cold, and is as hoarse as when I came home. Ernie is all right again, and looks the best of them all. I doubt their escaping, though it is quite possible, as they did not take it when Victoria did. I keep the rooms fresh and continually aired.

All the balls and parties are going on here now. Of course, I can neither go anywhere nor receive any one, on account of the infection. It is a wearisome time indeed, and being so much in sick rooms and so little out begins to tell upon me. How kind of you to send the books! Louis will be delighted. I have just read to him Russell’s book of Bertie and Alix’s journey, and am now reading to him a new Life of Napoleon, by Lanfrey, which is very well written--more against than for Napoleon. Of course, newspapers and the _Revue des Deux-Mondes_ I read to him besides. * * *

January 31st.

* * * Though dear baby has had two bad, restless nights, yet I am happy to say that he has the illness so slightly, with so little fever or sore throat, that we are in great hopes it will get no worse. He is cutting his back teeth just now, which is the worse moment possible to be ill in.

Victoria looks very hollow-eyed, pale, and wretched, poor darling, but is in good spirits now. The other two are as yet free. The weather is most beautiful--frosty and clear,--and I have been skating daily for the last six days, which does me much good, and enables me to see people again. This afternoon I have a large party on the ice at Kranichstein, and this is always a great amusement to the young people. * * *

MAYENCE, April 10th.

* * * Yesterday evening we had to give a large party here, half to the military, and the other to the civil authorities and to the Bürger [citizens]. It went off well; but the amount of speaking, as one must speak to all, and the effort to remember who they all were--they having been all presented at once--was no small exertion. * * *

MAYENCE, April 15th.

* * * Lady Car. [Barrington] wrote to me how very grateful Mrs. Grey was to you for your great kindness and consideration.[97] In trouble no one can have a more true and sympathizing friend than my beloved Mama always is. How many hearts has she not gained by this, and how many a poor sufferer’s burdens has she not lightened! * * *

April 25th.

Thousand thanks for your dear loving lines! I kissed them a thousand times, and thank you so much for the quite lovely statuette--a little gem, which every one has been admiring this morning. The shawl and little ornament gave me also great pleasure, and the colored photographs of the rooms--in short, all and any thing from such dear hands must give pleasure. * * *

June 25th.

* * * I am proud of my two girls, for they are warm-hearted and gifted, too, in appearance. Victoria’s facility in learning is wonderful, and her lessons are her delight. Her English history and reading she has learned from me. I give her a lesson daily, and Bäuerlein[98] can tell you how much she has learned. * * *

I read a great deal, chiefly history and deeper works; and I have one or two very learned acquaintances with whom to read or to have books recommended by.

My two committees always give me no end of work, and I have tried to have many improvements made in the girls’ schools of the different classes; and some of these things, by dint of a deal of trouble, are prospering, and I hope in time to come will prove their worth. There is a great deal to be done, and in the hospitals I have been able to get some very necessary changes made. I tell you all this, fancying it may perhaps interest you a little bit. * * *

July 2d.

How grieved I am for your sake, above all, and for the poor Clarks and ourselves, that dear kind Sir James, that true fatherly friend, is no more!! Many thanks for your last letter, which tells me of your last visit to him, which I am sure must be a great comfort to you. Oh! how sad to think how many are gone! And for you, dear Mama, this is quite dreadful. I can’t say how I feel it for you!

Lord Clarendon’s death grieves me much also; and it was so sudden. Alice Skelmersdale wrote to me in the greatest distress; he had been a most loving father.

In the midst of life we are in death; and in our quiet and solitary existence out here, where we see no one, all accords with sad and serious feelings, which, amidst the many people and worry you live in, must jar with such feelings and make you wish for solitude. The accounts you give touch me so much. Many thanks for having written so much about dear Sir James; it is of great value to me. Louis begs me to say, how he shares the grief you all and we must feel at such a loss.

What you say about the education of our girls I entirely agree with, and I strive to bring them up totally free from pride of their position, which is _nothing_ save what their personal worth can make it. I read it to the governess--who quite enters into all my wishes on that subject--thinking how good it would be for her to hear your opinion. * * * I feel so entirely as you do on the difference of rank, and how all important it is for princes and princesses to know that they are nothing better or above others, save through their own merit; and that they have only the double duty of living for others and of being an example--good and modest. This I hope my children will grow up to.

July 26th.

When I returned home last night really heartbroken, after having parted from my good and tenderly-loved Louis, I found your dear sympathizing words, and I thank you a thousand times for them--they were a comfort and pleasure to me! I parted with dear Louis late in the evening, on the high road outside the village in which he was quartered for the night, and we looked back until nothing more was to be seen of each other. May the Almighty watch over his precious life, and bring him safe back again: all the pain and anxiety are forgotten and willingly borne if he is only left to me and to his children!

It is an awful time, and the provocation of a war such as this a crime that will have to be answered for, and for which there can be no justification. Everywhere troops and peasants are heard singing “Die Wacht am Rhein” and “Was ist des Deutschen Vaterland?” and there is a feeling of unity and standing by each other, forgetting all party quarrels, which makes one proud of the name of German. All women feel ashamed of complaining, when father, husband, or son goes, and so many as volunteers in the ranks. This war is felt to be national, and that the King had no other course left him to pursue with honor.

I must be in town by nine o’clock: so much rests on me, and there are so many to help--the poor forsaken soldiers’ families amongst others! I have seen that all is ready to receive the wounded, and to send out help. I send out fourteen nurses for the Feld-Lazarethe [field-hospitals].

How much I feel for you now, for I know how truly you must feel for Germany; and _all_ know that every good thing England does for Germany, and every evil she wards off her, is owing to your wisdom and experience, and to your true and just feelings. You would, I am sure, be pleased to hear how universally this is recognized and appreciated.

What would beloved Papa have thought of this war? The unity of Germany, which it has brought about, would please him, but never the shocking means!

July 28th.

My darling Louis is at Worms, and Henry just in front of him. The enthusiasm all along the Rhine is wonderful. They are all hopeful, though knowing well what enormous sacrifices and struggles a victory will cost.

I cannot leave this place until our troops should have--which God prevent!--to retreat, and the French come! Now is the moment when a panic might overcome the people; and I think it my duty to remain at my post, as it gives the people courage and confidence. My parents-in-law, who have their three sons out, would feel my absence, and they have the first claim on me. I am in beloved Louis’ home, and nearer to him, if I remain. Of course, with dear Vicky I should personally be far better off. But Fritz is not much exposed, and she has not that fearful anxiety to such an amount as I have for dear Louis, who, as commander of only a division, must be in the very midst of all. Day and night this thought is uppermost in my mind. I hope and pray for the best, and bear what is sent to me in common with so many others. Work is a _Zerstreuung_ [distraction], and I know dear Louis would prefer knowing me here for the present, and that must be the first consideration to determine my actions.

Louis is well, and, now the dreadful parting is over, I am sure in better spirits, though work and anxiety weigh on him, poor love.

The children send their love. I am pretty well; able to do a great deal; headache and sleeplessness are but natural at this moment.

August 5th.

Arrived in our house this morning, I was received with the news of dear Fritz’ victory, and that 500 French prisoners had just passed through here by rail. I know none of ours can have been engaged, but we have not heard if there was an engagement elsewhere. The excitement and anxiety are quite dreadful! Please God, my darling is safe, and will pass safely through these dreadful dangers--and our many dear friends and acquaintances also! I am always sending off things for the wounded from our stores, and continue working and collecting, and all are most patriotic and united. It is a solemn and great time we live in, and there is something grand and elevating in the unity of high and low throughout this great nation, which makes one proud of belonging to it. If only all goes on well!

I am very sleepless, and never without headache, but one has neither time nor wish to think of one’s self. My own Louis’ safety is the all-engrossing thought; and I know, beloved Mama, that you love him truly, and share this anxiety with me. * * *

August 15th.

A few words by messenger. I have sent a letter by Kanné, who came here yesterday, having seen dear Louis the day before, which was the first direct news I have had from him. Yesterday morning he was at Faulquemont. Poor General von Manstein (our Chef), when he reached Saarbrück, found his son had been killed, and he had him taken out of the general grave and buried in the churchyard. * * * No less than forty French wounded I saw this morning in our hospital, with some Turcos. Some can’t speak in any known language, and the French dislike having these savages near them as much as we do; their physiognomies are horrid, and they steal and murder as _Handwerk_ [their vocation].

So much going about--for I go to Darmstadt at half-past eight, and remain till half-past eleven, in the morning, and in the afternoon from five till eight--is getting very fatiguing to me; but the people have no time to come out here, and there is much to see to, and many to speak with.

August 19th.

I have tried to write as often as I could, but I have only two hours to myself during the whole day, through driving in here twice a day. Besides the large Hülfsverein for the “wounded and sick,” which is in our palace, I have daily to visit the four hospitals. There is very much to do; we are so near the seat of war. This morning we got two large wagons ready and sent off for Pont-à-Mousson, where they telegraph from the battlefield of the 16th they are in great want. My best nurses are out there; the others are in three hospitals: two of them--military ones--were not ready or organized when 150 wounded arrived a week ago. I have just had a telegram from dear Louis; he is well, and I hope in a day or two the least dangerously of the Hessian wounded will arrive.

Thank God, all goes on successfully; but, indeed, I hope I shall not live to see another such war--it is too shocking by far. We have over five hundred wounded; as soon as any are better, they are sent north, and worse ones fill the beds--French and German intermixed. I neither see nor smell any thing else but wounds! and the first _Anblick_ [sight], which sometimes one does not escape meeting, is very shocking! It was very late last night before I got home. I was stopped at one of the hospitals, as a poor soldier had had sudden violent bleeding, and was all but dead, as the doctor could not find the artery; but I sent my carriage for another surgeon, and I am happy to say he lives and is recovering.

As Louis commands the whole of our little army, a great many things concerning the troops come to me from all parts of the country, and there is much to do--much more than in my present state is good for me; but it can’t be helped.

I drive back to Kranichstein by one daily, and am here again before five, so I hope you will kindly forgive my writing seldomer. Becker is engrossed with his duties at the Hülfsverein; there is no other gentleman with me, and I have the household to look after, besides.

August 20th.

My telegram will have told you that dear Louis is until now safe. On the 16th, in the evening, and on the 17th and 18th, our troops were engaged, and yesterday evening late I drove to the station, to speak to General Kehrer, our commandant, and received a telegram of the last victory, near Metz--a battle of nine hours, very bloody--no mention of names. The people, all excited, crowded round my carriage, asked for news--which of our regiments had been under fire? I could tell them nothing, but pacified them, begging them to go to their homes--they should hear as soon as I had news. I drove home with an aching heart, and passed a dreadful night of suspense. At six this morning a telegram from Louis (19th); he and his two brothers safe; our loss enormous--seventy officers out of one division (ours is the 25th), and Oberlieutenant Möller, a great favorite, his adjutant since 1866, very badly wounded. I went at once to Darmstadt to Louis’ parents. They were so overcome and thankful to hear of the safety of their children. This continual anxiety is fearful. Now to-day all the poor wives, mothers, sisters, come to me for news of their relations; it is heart-rending! We sent off two large wagon-loads to Pont-à-Mousson again with provisions, bandages, and medicaments, and mattresses to bring back all the wounded possible by rail. I went the round of the hospital, to have all the convalescent Prussians and French able to travel sent to their homes, so as to get room, and now we can await the sad arrivals. Oh, if it would but end! the misery of thousands is too awful!

KRANICHSTEIN, August 25th.

Many thanks for your dear words of the 20th. God knows, I have suffered much, and the load of anxiety is great! But thousands of Germans bear this load in unity together for their Fatherland, and none murmur. Yesterday a poor woman came to me to ask me to help her to get to the battlefield, to have the body of her only son looked for and brought home; and she was so resigned and patient.

I see daily, in all classes, so much grief and suffering; so many acquaintances and friends have fallen! It is heart-rending! I ought to be _very proud_ though, and I am so, too, to hear from the mouths of so many wounded officers the loud praise of Louis’ great bravery on the 16th and 18th. Always in front, encouraging his men where the battle raged fiercest and the balls fell thickest. He was near our troops, speaking to them, directing them, and right and left of him they fell in masses. This lasted eight hours!

* * * Hourly almost the trains brings in fresh wounded, and many and shocking are the sights one sees. I only returned here by one, having gone to town at half-past eight this morning, and have still three hospitals for this afternoon.

My nurses reached the battlefield in time, and were of great use. Louis telegraphed (yesterday’s date) from Auboué, between Thionville and Metz, where they remain in bivouac. * * * It is ten days since Louis has been in a bed or under a roof. They have no water (it is kept for the wounded), and little to eat, but he is very well.

It is difficult to get news, and I can never send any that is not mostly ten days old ere it reaches him.

August 26th.

* * * I had a telegram on the 25th from near Marengo, not far from Metz--all well. Louis has not been in bed or under a roof since the 16th, and it rains incessantly. I hope they won’t all be ill. He writes mostly on cards, on the hilt of his sword, sitting on a box. They cook their own dinner, and on the 16th they were going to eat it, when orders came to turn the French left wing and go into battle. That night was awful, though the day of the 18th seems to have been the bloodiest ever known. Our wounded all tell me so.