Part 2
“* * * But this did not in the least disturb our dear child’s equanimity. She was in a most devotional state of mind--quiet, gentle, self-possessed, and deeply impressed by the importance and solemnity of the event. She answered admirably at her examination, and went through the ceremony in a very perfect manner.”[6]
Not long before this the Queen had given her own opinion of her daughter in the following words:
“She is very good, gentle, sensible, and amiable, and a real comfort to me. I shall not let her marry as long as I can reasonably delay her doing so.”[7]
In June 1860 the Queen and Prince Consort received numerous guests at Windsor Castle for the Ascot races, amongst others the King of the Belgians and the two Princes, Louis and Henry of Hesse, the sons of Prince Charles of Hesse and nephews of the reigning Grand Duke. After they had left England, the Prince Consort mentioned to his valued friend Baron Stockmar, that there was no doubt that Prince Louis and Princess Alice had formed a mutual liking, and that he quite expected it would lead to further advances from the young Prince’s family.
Judging by the favorable impression which the manly and attractive Prince of twenty-three had made, the probable result was eagerly looked for.
Before long a letter from Princess Frederick William from Berlin announced that she had been in communication with Prince Louis’ mother, Princess Charles of Hesse (cousin of the Prince Regent of Prussia), who had informed her of her son’s great admiration for her sister. It was arranged that, after the journey of the Queen and Prince Consort to Germany that autumn, the young Prince should pay a second visit to England; and leave of absence for him was to be obtained from the Prince Regent of Prussia.[8] This was done, and he arrived at Windsor Castle in November. On the 30th of November the Queen wrote as follows in her Diary:
“* * * After dinner, whilst talking to the gentlemen, I perceived Alice and Louis talking before the fireplace more earnestly than usual, and when I passed to go to the other room, both came up to me, and Alice in much agitation said he had proposed to her, and he begged for my blessing. I could only squeeze his hand and say ‘Certainly.’ and that we would see him in our room later. Got through the evening working as well as we could. Alice came to our room * * * agitated, but quiet. * * * Albert sent for Louis to his room; he went first to him and then called Alice and me in. * * * Louis has a warm, noble heart. We embraced our dear Alice, and praised her much to him. He pressed and kissed my hand, and I embraced him. After talking a little, we parted; a most touching, and to me most sacred, moment.”[9]
As this was entirely a marriage of affection, the happiness of the “young people” was very great.
Prince Louis stayed over Christmas, which this year seemed brighter to the whole family, from the accession of what her father termed “a beloved newly-bestowed full-grown son.” “Our dear Bridegroom,” as the Prince Consort calls the young Prince, left on the 28th of December. The parting was tearful, but full of hope, as he was to return in the spring.
During the first happy weeks after her engagement, Princess Alice had spent the greater part of her evenings with her beloved grandmother, the Duchess of Kent, either reading or playing on the piano to her, as the Duchess’ health did not allow of her dining at Windsor Castle.
The Duchess’ condition had become worse during the first months of the new year (1861), and she died on the 16th of March at the age of seventy-four, in the presence of her beloved and loving daughter, whose happiness and affection had been the joy of her life, and also of her equally beloved son-in-law, and the Princess Alice. On this sad occasion, which she felt most deeply, Princess Alice showed the comfort and help she was fitted to be to her family in times of sorrow and anxiety.
The Queen communicated to Parliament in a “Message” the contemplated marriage of the Princess. The announcement was received with general satisfaction. When, shortly afterward, the question of the Princess’ “settlement” was laid before the House of Commons, the dowry of 30,000_l._, with an annuity of 6,000_l._, was voted without a dissentient voice. “She will not,” writes her careful father, “be able to do great things with it.”
In May, Prince Louis arrived at Osborne on a visit. Soon after, however, he fell ill with the measles. Prince Leopold caught them from him, and was very seriously ill.
In the following month the whole family were for the last time together, including the two sons-in-law[10] and the two grandchildren from Potsdam.
Prince Louis paid another visit to England in September, when he took part in those delightful expeditions in the Highlands, which were to be the last the Prince Consort made.[11]
In December, in the midst of preparations which he was making for Princess Alice’s future household, and for a journey of her brother, Prince Leopold, to Cannes, the Prince Consort fell ill. Princess Alice was often with her father during his illness, reading to him, and in intimate communication with her mother. Soon, however, the illness developed into low fever, and the Prince, worn out by over-work and anxiety, had not strength to resist it, and died peacefully on the 14th of December, in the presence of the Queen, the Prince of Wales, and the Princesses Alice and Hélèna. During the days of unspeakable sorrow which followed upon the death of the Prince Consort, it was Princess Alice above all who was a real support to her broken-hearted mother. The unanimous opinion of eye-witnesses as to what the Princess went through and achieved at this time is truly astonishing.
“Herself filled with the intensest sorrow at her beloved father’s death--and what a father! what a head of a family! what a friend and adviser to his wife and children!--she at once took into her own hands every thing that was necessary in those first dark days of the destruction of that happy home. All communications from the Ministers and household passed through the Princess’ hands to the Queen, then bowed down by grief. She endeavored in every way possible, either verbally or by writing, to save her mother all trouble. The decision to leave Windsor for Osborne directly after the Prince’s death, according to the urgent wish of the King of the Belgians, and which it was so difficult and painful for the Queen to make, was obtained by the Princess’ influence.”
The gay, bright girl seemed all at once to have changed into the thoughtful woman.
“It was the very intimate intercourse with the sorrowing Oueen at that time which called forth in Princess Alice that keen interest and understanding in politics for which she was afterward so distinguished. She also gained at this time that practical knowledge for organizing, and the desire for constant occupation, which in her public as well as in her private life became part of herself. The Princess suddenly developed into a wise far-seeing woman, living only for others, and beloved and respected by the highest as well as by the lowest.[12]
It was at this time that the _Times_ said of the Princess:
“It is impossible to speak too highly of the strength of mind and self-sacrifice of the Princess Alice during these dreadful days. Her Royal Highness has certainly understood, that it was her duty to be the help and support of her mother in her great sorrow, and it was in a great measure due to her that the Queen has been able to bear with such wonderful resignation the irreparable loss that so suddenly and terribly befell her.”
The young “bridegroom” did not remain absent in those days, but arrived without delay.
A touching trait is told by the same near relation of the Princess whose memorandum has just been quoted. As she was placing wreaths and flowers on the dear dead Prince, and both knelt down near him, she said in a heart-rending voice, “Oh! dear Molly, let us pray to God to give us back dear Papa!”
The letters published in this volume will show that the feeling of that irreparable loss never left her through life, and our impression cannot be a false one, that it was this loss which brought out the deep earnestness of her character, and which made her feel that life was no light thing, but a time of probation to be spent in earnest work and conscientious fulfilment of duty.
She felt it to be a sacred duty to foster the recollections of her girlhood, and to carry out the principles with which her father had embued her, whether in the cultivation of art and science, the encouragement of art manufactures, of agriculture and general education, in the tasteful and practical arrangement of her own house, in bettering the conditions of the lower and working classes by improving their homes and inculcating principles of health, economy, and domestic management. In short, in every way open to her, did the Princess try to walk in her father’s footsteps, and so to do honor to his memory.
It is but natural that during the first weeks of her first great sorrow, and of her many new duties, the thought of her own future should have been put into the background. The preparations for her marriage, however, as well as for her household were continued, according to the known intentions of the Prince Consort. The marriage was solemnized at Osborne on the 1st of July at one o’clock. The Archbishop of York performed the ceremony in the absence of the Archbishop of Canterbury, who was prevented by illness from being present.
Besides her sorrowing mother, the Crown Prince of Prussia, all her brothers and sisters, the parents and brothers and sisters of the bridegroom, and a number of princely relations were present. The Duke of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha, in the place of her father, led the bride to the altar, whilst the bridegroom was accompanied by his brother, Prince Henry. At the conclusion of the ceremony, the Queen withdrew to her room. The guests left the Isle of Wight in the afternoon, whilst the newly-married pair went with a small suit to St. Clare, near Ryde (belonging to Colonel and Lady Catherine Harcourt), where they remained three days.
On the 9th of July, Prince and Princess Louis of Hesse left England, accompanied by the fervent prayers and good wishes of a devoted people, who never forgot what their Princess had been to them in their hour of trouble.
What they felt found apt expression in the following sonnet, which appeared in _Punch_ at the time:
Dear to us all by those calm and earnest eyes, And early thought upon that fair young brow; Dearer for that where grief was heaviest, thou Wert sunshine, till He passed where suns shall rise And set no more; thou, in affection wise And strong, wert strength to Her who even but now In the soft accents of thy bridal vow Heard music of her own heart’s memories.
Too full of love to own a thought of pride Is now thy gentle bosom; so ’tis best: Yet noble is thy choice, O English bride! And England hails the bridegroom and the guest A friend--a friend well loved by him who died. He blessed your troth: your wedlock shall be blessed.