Part 7

“Last night,” she writes on the 22nd September 1867, “I was telling Fräulein von Rahden so much about our lost little brother (Prince Otto) that she exclaimed--‘His life must be written. It will be a great blessing for all who read it.’ She told me to write as fully as possible, and said that what was written in the greatest simplicity must, if it comes from the heart, find an echo in the hearts of others. I have wished to do this for years, and felt that I ought to do it, and found it too difficult. I really think that the moment has come now. I should like to add a detailed memoir to our archives.

“I have just come from the little church, in which I heard a beautiful sermon. Pfarrer Steiger preached from Jer. ix. 24, ‘For in these things I delight, saith the Lord.’ It was full of enthusiasm, and suitable to my state of mind, which was rather sad, as many memories awake here in Ragaz. And then this good man brought God’s healing, conquering, and inspiring love so near to us that I nearly wept for joy. It was too beautiful. I seemed to hear Maria Sulzer’s voice saying to me, ‘Lay yourself in the arms of God.’ I have already thought of writing prayers for our church, but I am not sufficiently advanced. Perhaps I shall be able to do so when I am writing Otto’s Memoirs.”

“_Ragaz, 30th September._--Thinking of our little services, I have written the enclosed prayers. Perhaps you can use them. I have also begun Otto’s Memoirs, and have written to Nana (Prince Otto’s English nurse) and begged her to give me details of his earliest childhood, ‘If with all your hearts ye truly seek Me, ye shall ever surely find Me, saith the Lord.’ I should like to inscribe this text on every page. I should like to seek and find Him. I have never really loved Him. Frau Arnemann says: ‘God is drawing me to Him through all that I love, and whom He has taken to Himself.’ How gladly I will let myself be drawn! This winter I shall stay at home, and look forward to it much. I have my hands full of business too, for when I have finished my translation of Carlyle I have a new plan. Frau Arnemann always wished me to write a book for children. Only I cannot think of anything suitable. I can only write about what I have lived through and felt.”

After many fine days, during which walks of three or four hours were undertaken, a sudden and lasting fall of snow had induced the Grand Duchess to leave Ragaz. Princess Elizabeth now returned home. She spent the winter quietly and happily with her mother at Monrepos. “I look back upon this time with particular pleasure,” she writes; “I think of the dreamy hours spent in the little room, of the endless conversations on deep subjects with Fräulein Lavater, and of the evenings when our spinning wheels hummed and my brother read aloud to us.” In the summer of 1868 she travelled to Sweden on a visit to her royal relations. She calls Sweden the land of poetry; and the magnificence of nature there, and the beautiful legends which are attached to every stone, inspired her fancy. She liked to be in the north, and delighted in Stockholm. The magnificent town is enthroned like a queen of the waters on her islands between the lake and the sea. It is surrounded by many oaks of a hundred years’ growth, which are the masts and pennons of the ships, and historical treasures of all sorts. “We made a wonderful expedition to the Malarsee. The Duke of Ostgothland, the present King Oscar II., had taken a ship, and we glided on the shining sea between a hundred emerald isles to the curious old castle of Grypsholm. What added immensely to the charm of our voyage were the songs of the Swedish officers, whom my uncle invited for our amusement. These gentlemen sing nearly the whole day, and songs varied according to the places we passed. Their voices were as clear as bells, whispering mysteriously or sounding loud in the uncontrollable joy of youth. My uncle had the tombs of the kings in the Riddersholmskirche open for us to see. Each dynasty has a separate vault. I laid my hand upon the coffins of Gustav Adolph and Karl XII., but could not help shuddering before these open graves. The drive through the country to Helsingborg was very fine. We passed more than a hundred seas. The red wooden houses and the castles built of red tiles are picturesquely situated between the huge blocks of stone of volcanic origin with which the whole country is strewn. These blocks are covered with beech and fir trees. We spent a night in Toncoping, and wandered through the bright wooden town, by the shining Wettersee, at five in the morning.”

With the facility peculiar to her, Princess Elizabeth learnt Swedish, and could soon read “Tegner’s Frithjofsage” and the beautiful poems of Runeberg in the original. The Princess of Wied had spent three months in Sweden with her daughter. On the way back they visited Copenhagen and Friedrichsborg, and stayed some days with their relations at Arolsen. There Princess Elizabeth was a peculiar favourite of her cousins of Waldeck, and her appearance at Arolsen gave the signal to endless rejoicings.

Princess Elizabeth had scarcely returned to Monrepos with her mother when the Grand Duchess Hélène called her niece to her side at Heidelberg. In November of 1868 she spent three most enjoyable weeks there. The recollections of this time were so deep and lasting that Princess Elizabeth, then Princess of Roumania, mentions it nine years after with such life and freshness as if years and great changes had not come over her meanwhile. We will here give that part of a letter written from Bucharest in May 1877:--

“How beautiful it must now be in Heidelberg! Have I not spent almost the happiest three weeks of my life there with my aunt and so many distinguished people. A gathering of great thinkers, Kirchhoff, Friedreich, Bluntschli, Treitschke, Gervinus, and Helmholtz in one drawing-room! Besides which Joachim with his heavenly violin, and Frau Joachim with her voice like a mountain torrent. An evening for the gods! and then those walks with Fräulein von Rahden, those dreams in the ruins. How they seemed to teem with life and flitting forms, with banquets and fair women. Indeed those were visions worthy of the gods! Of course we were often wet through, but I think the rain belongs to Heidelberg as the dew to flowers. You should read the ‘Trompeter’ together, that suits there, ‘Frau Aventiure,’ and ‘Gaudeamus.’ One must become as jolly as the students, drink wine and lounge, in order to be in the right spirit for Heidelberg: then it is a magic circle, a land of dreams, such as weary wayfarers may long for. You breathe so freely in the warm damp air.”

With these bright impressions the year 1868 closed. The next year was to be one of great importance for Princess Elizabeth. But although her immediate future shaped itself in an unexpected manner, it found her prepared for it as to an object towards which the genius of her life was tending. We have interwoven many extracts of Princess Elizabeth’s letters in the course of our narrative, because a natural and unsought for likeness of her is thus developed. Her words are a picture of her inner and outer life according to the impression made upon her mind at the time. She describes the effects of what she experienced more than the causes, but these effects are not problematic states of mind, but strong and lasting impressions, which take root in a nature rich in refined feelings, and increase its wealth. And there is one theme which traverses this inner life and shows itself even there, where it is not openly mentioned--an all pervading principle, which has the strength to avoid and to overcome the two dangers which beset the life of a daughter of a Prince. One danger is that she may give herself up to the enjoyment of her exalted rank; the other that intellectual pursuits are undertaken in a dilettanti spirit and become superficial. There is only one safeguard to these two dangers, and that is duty and labour. The duty of a Prince is to rule--that is the highest form of education. Now we read in the letters of Princess Elizabeth even there, where she does not say so in so many words: “I wish to have a profession.” She meant the profession of a teacher, and she received one of a Princess and a Queen!

VI.

Betrothal and Marriage.

On the 2nd of January 1869 we read in the Journal of Princess Elizabeth: “A song of thanksgiving only for the past warm and happy year. I have no wish for the coming one but that the work of my hands may be blessed. It is nine years since I wrote the first words in my book. I have noted the days of my youth in it, sometimes with a heart full of sacred feelings, sometimes in bright happiness, often in sadness and sorrow. My early years have been rich--rich in love, in sunshine, and many trials. I have always been saved from one thing, and that is, to be bereft of all joy. This weight has never fallen on my heart, and so I am still young and strong, and look forward to middle age with joy and pleasure. If only Heaven will continue to grant me the power of writing poetry, I will guard and keep it as a sacred shrine. I do nothing to cultivate the gift, in order not to become vain. I only beg that it may live on for me and in me, and pray for the freshness of youth, which is necessary for writing a poem from one’s heart. Adieu you beautiful year, and may the New Year look in kindly upon my room and my heart. ‘Tout ou rien’ shall be my motto.”

Prince William of Wied had meanwhile served his year at Coblentz in the regiment of Queen Augusta, and studied at the University of Bonn for a year and a half. On the 30th of March 1869 the coming of age of the young Prince was celebrated at Neuwied with great festivities. In August of the same year he was betrothed to Princess Marie of the Netherlands, daughter of His Royal Highness Prince Frederick of the Netherlands and Princess Louise of Prussia, a sister of the German Emperor. Still Princess Elizabeth would hear of no proposal of marriage. Her highest ambition was her wish to be a schoolmistress; she thought of founding a school, and giving up her time and strength to teaching. Her mother had let her have her way, and had already secretly planned and arranged everything. The Princess of Wied insisted on one point, however, which was, that Princess Elizabeth should follow a strict course of study and pass her examination as a teacher before her plan could be practically carried out. Princess Elizabeth’s restless spirit had calmed down in this prospect. Her mother remarked to Fräulein Lavater: “You will see that she will marry now; it would have been too soon before.” As the Princess of Wied was spending a few weeks at Bonn with her daughter in the spring of this year, she received an invitation from the Prince of Hohenzollern to visit him at Düsseldorf. She guessed at the deep meaning of this amiable invitation, but Princess Elizabeth was quite unconscious of it, and was only looking forward to seeing her beloved Princess of Hohenzollern, and Princess Marie, with whom she had corresponded intimately since she had been so much with them at Berlin. The princely parents now wished to become better acquainted with the young Princess of Wied, for their son, the Prince of Roumania, was thinking of uniting himself to her in marriage.

Prince Charles I. of Roumania, the second son of Prince Anthony of Hohenzollern and the Princess of Baden, was born on the 20th of April 1839, and educated in Dresden at the Blochmann Institute. He wished to follow a military career, and entered the Prussian army, with which he went through the Danish campaign of 1864. In the year 1866 the young lieutenant of Dragoon Guards, who was then only seven and twenty, was called to the throne of Roumania by the unanimous voice of the nation. The King of Prussia, as head of the family, not objecting, and sure of the concurrence of Napoleon III., whose influence was then predominant in the lands of the Danube, Prince Charles became the reigning Prince of Roumania. The country entrusted to him had already visibly improved as well in spiritual as in temporal matters during his short reign. But the low state of social conditions required reform. A Princess was wanted to help in this great work whose life and example would do much to ensure success.

The Prince’s choice fell on the Princess Elizabeth, whose acquaintance he had made at Berlin, and whom he had learnt to know more intimately through her letters to his sister. From the time of the Prince’s nomination to the Roumanian throne Princess Elizabeth had displayed a great interest in him. Her active nature was sympathetic to the thorough seriousness and energy with which Prince Charles had undertaken and carried through his arduous task. The affairs of Roumania were not strange to her either, for one of her French governesses had lived there for some time, and told her a great deal about it. Once, long before the betrothal, when Elizabeth’s friends had besieged her with all sorts of plans, and wished to see her on a throne, she had answered in fun: “The only throne which could attract me is the Roumanian, for there would be much for me to do.”

A short time after the visit to Düsseldorf, the Princess of Wied was asked to arrange a personal meeting between her daughter and Prince Charles. To have such a meeting in Monrepos seemed too public, and consequently it suited Her Serene Highness’s view exactly when Princess Elizabeth expressed a great wish to attend a concert which Clara Schumann and Stockhausen were to give at Cologne in October. The Princess of Wied consequently arranged to go to Cologne, and there receive Prince Charles, who was then at Paris. They alighted at the Hotel du Nord. The hours passed, and the Prince had not appeared. So the two ladies drove with their suite to the Botanical Gardens to dine. The meal was over, and Princess Elizabeth had not noticed that they had for some time been closely observed by a group of gentlemen. Two of these then advanced to the Princess of Wied, and the Prince of Roumania was introduced to her. Elizabeth, who knew nothing of his intentions, or of the previous arrangement, reached out both hands to him with undisguised satisfaction, saying: “How glad I am that we should thus meet here by chance.” They remained together many hours in the Botanical and Zoological Gardens, engaged in deep conversation. Returned to the hotel, Princess Elizabeth exclaimed enthusiastically: “What a delightful man the Prince has become!”

Whilst she was dressing for the concert, the Prince had an interview with her mother, and asked for her sanction to the marriage. Princess Elizabeth meanwhile was only thinking of the musical treat which was awaiting her, and was much vexed at the Prince remaining so long. When he at last left, she rushed from her room to the salon, saying in a reproachful tone: “But, mamma.” But the young girl remained transfixed on the doorstep, for she saw the earnest and deeply moved expression of her mother’s countenance, who advanced towards her, embracing her tenderly, and said: “The Prince of Roumania has made you an offer of marriage, my child.”

The surprise of her daughter was great, but after these few words it became clear to her that the Prince had, unconsciously to herself, won her whole heart. When her mother repeated the question, if she did not wish to have time to consider, she answered simply and decidedly: “No; he had better come at once--I know I shall love him much.” And when the Prince came and greeted her as his bride, she said to him with her soft and sympathetic voice: “It makes me both proud and humble at the same time.” The same night the Prince had to return to Paris. But Princess Elizabeth wrote in her Journal of the 12th of October: “I am betrothed and a blissfully happy bride.”

Four days later, on the 16th of October, Prince Charles arrived at Neuwied, accompanied by five Roumanian gentlemen, to celebrate his betrothal publicly. Everything had been so suddenly and unexpectedly settled that none of the many members of the family of Wied could be present on the occasion. The Princess of Wied, Prince William, and some intimate friends of their family, were the only guests, excepting the Roumanian suite.

Simply, and without any particular ceremony, the betrothal was celebrated by an exchange of rings. There was a state dinner in the evening. Towards the close of it, the Princess of Wied arose, and though struggling with repressed emotion, spoke the following words in a clear and firm voice: “Let us drink to the health of the future pair, who are to-day the object of our united best wishes! Every betrothal is certainly a day of rejoicing. But the betrothal of to-day is more. A Prince, called to the accomplishment of a high and arduous mission, has chosen a bride who, whilst remaining faithfully at his side, will take part in the fulfilment of this great duty. They have made a holy covenant between themselves, in which they have promised to devote their strength and love to the happiness of a people which, if rightly and wisely led, is called to a great and happy future. And we will herewith also express our warmest and most sincere good wishes for the fulfilment of this our hope.”

After Prince William had brought out a toast to the union of the two princely houses, and the Prince of Roumania had expressed his thanks for the good wishes of all present, he added: “This day is the happiest of my life, for it has allowed me to find a bride who will stand by me in loving devotion during the fulfilment of the high mission which a whole nation has entrusted to me.” On the day of his betrothal the Prince had said to his bride: “You will have a noble duty in life. You can comfort when I am too severe, and can gently pray for all.” One of the relations wrote to the Princess of Wied: “We can congratulate the bridegroom on taking home a bride who will be a help and a blessing for his country. It would be difficult to find such another: I rejoice that Elizabeth’s sphere is not to be contracted into the small household circle of the woman. Her character will enlarge and expand in the large circle of interest which awaits her.”

The Princess of Wied now travelled with the bride to Baden-Baden, to introduce her to the King and Queen of Prussia, as head of the house of Hohenzollern, then to the Weinburg by Siegmaringen, whither Prince Charles had preceded her, and conducted their future daughter-in-law to the Prince and Princess of Hohenzollern. Prince Charles gave to his bride, amongst other things, an album for her Journal of Poems, and wrote on the first page: “Weinburg, 26th October 1869. Love is returned by love. Meet your people with the same love and confidence that you have shown to me, and then it will not be one heart alone which beats for you, but millions of hearts will unite with that one, and I shall deem myself happy, for you will not belong to me alone. A whole nation has a right to you. An entire people looks up to you with confidence, and will return your love by its devotion.”

Prince Charles announced his engagement in the following words to the Roumanian nation: “When I accepted a throne which the love and confidence of a whole nation entrusted to me, I understood that the uppermost thought in the unanimous election of a foreign Prince must be to establish a lasting dynasty in Roumania. To-day I have the happiness to announce to my people a guarantee for law and order, of which it stands in such need, whilst I inform the nation that I am betrothed to Princess Elizabeth of Wied, who was born on the 29th of December 1843.” This very important event called out much enthusiasm in the whole country. Bucharest and Jassy were illuminated, and a _Te Deum_ held in the cathedrals. Addresses of congratulations poured in from all sides. From the plains of the Danube to the vine-clad banks of the Rhine the electric wire endlessly repeated the winged words--“God save Carol I., ruler of the Roumanians.” “God save the Princess Elizabeth his bride.” A month later, on the 15th of November, the wedding was to be celebrated with much pomp and etiquette.

The Queen of Prussia had announced herself. A few days previously we read in the Journal--

“_Monrepos, 12th November 1869._--My lines have fallen on pleasant places--a fair inheritance is mine.”

On the 13th of November Prince Charles arrived in Neuwied, and was received with great enthusiasm. Guests streamed in from all sides. On the 14th of November the family of the Prince of Hohenzollern-Siegmaringen arrived, also the Count and Countess of Flanders, the reigning Prince of Waldeck, the Grand Duchess of Baden, Princess William of Baden, Prince Waldemar of Schleswig-Holstein-Augustenburg, the Princess and Counts of Solms-Braunfels, Laubach, and Rödelheim, with their consorts. The Queen of Prussia arrived on the wedding day. The Emperors of France and Germany were represented by their ambassadors, M. d’Oubril and Count Moosburg. The princely party were attended by numerous suites of German and Roumanian ladies and gentlemen.

On the 15th of November the sun arose in great splendour over Neuwied. It shone upon an animated picture. The palace and every single house in the town was decorated with flags and garlands. The neighbourhood of the palace, the garden, and the extensive park had been filled with groups of people since daybreak. They had come to see the bride once more. It is a peculiarity in the nature of the German people that they share the joys and sorrows of their Princes, and regard their concerns as their own. This hereditary affection between the Princess of Wied and the inhabitants of Neuwied has not disappeared, but has been faithfully preserved, and remained mutual. Consequently they felt that day as if a great family event were being celebrated in their midst. They were all heartily interested on this occasion. Was it not in honour of their beloved Princess Elizabeth, who was as well known in the houses of the poor and distressed as in those whom God had blessed with earthly treasures? Forty young ladies of Neuwied presented Princess Elizabeth with a beautiful carpet which they had worked. The local newspaper conveyed the congratulations of the citizens in expressive verses. All the members of the community rejoiced.