Читать книгу Alice, grand duchess of Hesse, princess of Great Britain and Ireland - Grand Duchess consort of Ludwig Iv Grand Duke of Hesse-Darmstadt Alice - Страница 11
1864.
ОглавлениеThe year 1864 was a most eventful one for Germany. After a severe struggle, the Duchies of Schleswig-Holstein were wrested from the control of the German Confederation or Diet at Frankfort, and occupied by Austrian and Prussian troops. The Princess’ own life that year was full of joyful events, and no cloud of sorrow came to disturb her happiness.
The marriage of Princess Anna of Hesse, which took place on the 12th of May, was a cause of great rejoicing to the family.
During the first months of the year the Prince and Princess paid several short visits to Gotha, Carlsruhe, and Munich, and in the summer spent three happy months in England.
On their return to Germany they received numerous guests at Kranichstein. But in spite of the many social duties and distractions in which the Princess took an active part, she never lost sight of more serious duties and pursuits. She became the “Protectress” of the “Heidenreich Institution for Lying-in Women,” which was the beginning of the active interest afterward taken by her in all sanitary improvements. This interest was heightened by the birth of her second daughter, who was born on the 1st of November, 1864, and christened on the 28th of that month, receiving the names of Elizabeth Alexandra Louise Alice. The Princess was very proud of being able to nurse her child herself, and from this time she took up with the keenest interest all questions relating to the physical, mental, and moral training of children. She found an able supporter and independent adviser in Dr. Weber, a very eminent medical man, resident at Darmstadt.
January 5th.
***The cold here is awful. I skated yesterday, and to-day we are going to the pond at Kranichstein. (Very few people skate here—only one lady, and she very badly.) Baby only goes out for half an hour in the middle of the day, well wrapped up. It would not do to keep her quite at home, as she would become so sensitive when first taken out again. Of course when it is windy or too cold she stops in.
January 9th.
I was aghast on receiving of Bertie’s telegram this morning announcing the birth of their little son. Oh, may dear Papa’s blessing rest on the little one; may it turn out like dear Papa, and be a comfort and a pride to you, and to its young parents! Your first English grandchild. Dear Mama, my heart is so full. May dear Alix and the baby only go on well!
January 16th.
***Baby says “Papa,” “Mama,” and yesterday several times “Louis.” She imitates every thing she hears, all noises and sounds; she gets on her feet alone by a chair, and is across the room before one can turn round. Her adoration for Louis is touching. She stops always, since the summer, alone in our room, so she never cries for Moffat [her nurse], and is very happy on the floor with her play-things. She is a very dear little thing and gets on very fast, but equally in all things, and is as fat as she was. It is so interesting to watch the progress and development of such a little being; and baby is so expressive, she makes such a face when she is not pleased, and laughs so heartily when she is contented. She is more like a child of two years old a great deal.
Gotha, January 22d.
After a very cold journey we arrived here on Wednesday afternoon. I found dear uncle and aunt well, Leopoldine (who is very dear and nice) and Hermann,[38] Edward and Marie Leiningen, and Prince Lowenstein here. Only Hermann and Leopoldine live in the Castle besides us; the others are all at uncle’s house.
January 30th.
***These poor Schleswig-Holsteiners do what they can to liberate themselves from the Danish yoke, and to regain their lawful sovereign, Fritz. And why is England, who stands up for freedom of countries, who in Italy, where there was less cause, did what she could to liberate the country from her lawful sovereigns, to do what she can to prevent the Schleswig-Holsteiners from liberating themselves from a king who has no right over them, merely because they are unfortunate good-natured Germans, who allow themselves to be oppressed?
February 5th.
In the distance, dear Mama, one really cannot judge correctly of reasons for or against things, when one does not exactly know how every thing stands.
February 14th.
***We have been in sledges to-day, and everybody drives about the town with them; it sounds so pretty, all the jingling bells.
***Shakespeare’s words came home to him—
Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.
Thank God, my husband has none! I thank the Almighty daily for our peaceful homely life, in which sphere we can do a good deal of good to our fellow-creatures, without having to mix in those hateful politics.
Our life is a very, very happy one. I have nothing on earth to wish for, and much as I loved my precious Louis when I married him, still more do I love him now and daily; for his character is worthy of love and respect, and a better husband or father, a more unselfish and kind one, there does not live. His love for you, you know; and on our return how glad we shall be to be near you once more.
February 16th.
Louis is in the Chamber to-day from nine till one, long enough at a stretch, and immediately after breakfast. We always breakfast at eight; then Louis sees the three officers who come every morning on his military business, then Westerweller and all others who have business. We usually walk before luncheon, which is at twelve; and often drive at two or three. At five we dine; at half-past six, theatre, four times a week, till half-past nine; then we take tea together, Louis reads to me, and I work. On other week-days there are concerts or parties. We are often in our new house, and in the garden, arranging things and watching the progress. We also go to lectures here, and are much occupied, which makes the day pass so quickly.
March 1st.
I have learned much since I married, and, above all, not to be dependent on others in my existence. To be able to make a bright and comfortable home for my dear husband is my constant aim; but even in this one often fails, for self constantly turns up, like a bad sixpence. Oh, how dear Papa spoke about that! His whole noble life was that one bright example of sacrificing himself to his duty. Dear, adored Papa! such goodness, such love, when one thinks of it, must silence all complaints of petty troubles in the mouths of his children and servants. You, dear Mama, are the one who suffers the most, though this awful loss has touched all; and to soothe your grief and to help you lightens one’s own.
March 5th.
***Spring always makes me so wehmüthig [sad], I don’t know why; one longs for every thing and any thing which is out of one’s reach.
I will tell you of something I did the other day; but please tell no one, because not a soul but Louis and my ladies know of it here. I am the patroness of the “Heidenreich Stiftung,” to which you also gave a handsome present in the beginning. The ladies who belong to it go to bring linen to poor respectable Wöchnerinnen [women in child-bed], who claim their assistance. They bring them food, and, in short, help them. All cases are reported to me. The other day I went to one incog. with Christa, in the old part of the town—and the trouble we had to find the house! At length, through a dirty courtyard, up a dark ladder into one little room, where lay in one bed the poor woman and her baby; in the room four other children, the husband, two other beds, and a stove. But it did not smell bad, nor was it dirty. I sent Christa down with the children, then with the husband cooked something for the woman; arranged her bed a little, took her baby for her, bathed its eyes—for they were so bad, poor little thing!—and did odds and ends for her. I went twice. The people did not know me, and were so nice, so good and touchingly attached to each other; it did one’s heart good to see such good feelings in poverty. The husband was out of work, the children too young to go to school, and they had only four kreuzers in the house when she was confined.
Think of that misery and discomfort!
If one never sees any poverty, and always lives in that cold circle of Court people, one’s good feelings dry up, and I felt the want of going about and doing the little good that is in my power. I am sure you will understand this.
March 14th.
My own Dear precious Mama:—These words are for the 16th, the first hard trial of our lives, where I was allowed to be with you. Do you recollect when all was over [death of the Duchess of Kent], and dear Papa led you to the sofa in the colonnade, and then took me to you? I took that as a sacred request from him to love, cherish, and comfort my darling mother to all the extent of my weak powers. Other things have taken me from being constantly with you; but nothing has lessened my intense love for you, and longing to quiet every pain which touches you, and to fulfil, even in the distance, his request.
Oh, darling Mama, were there words in which I could express to you how much I am bound up with you, how constantly my thoughts and prayers are yours, I would write them. The sympathies of our souls can only tell each other how tender my love and gratitude to you is, and how vividly I feel every new trial or new thing with you and for you. ***
I was with another poor woman, even worse off, this morning, and on the third day she was walking in the room and nearly fainted from weakness. Those poor people!
March 26th.
***Yesterday morning at nine we took the Sacrament—all the family and congregation together. The others then stopped for the rest of the service, till after eleven. I went home and returned for the English service at twelve. At half-past six, in the Stadtkirche, Bach’s “Passion” was given.
April 5th.
To-day is Victoria’s birthday. What a day it was this time last year! Baby has her table in the room next to my sitting-room. Uncle Louis and the rest of the family expected to breakfast with us at twelve.
Munich, April 11th.
***To-day, for the first time since the King’s death,[39] the Queen and we all with our Gefolge [suite] dined in the Winter Garden. It seemed to try her very much, but she is so wonderfully quiet that she scarcely shows it. I was three hours with her yesterday evening. She spoke so kindly of you and with such sympathy and interest, and said, when dear Papa died, she had prayed for you so much.
Munich, April 13th.
***Between sight-seeing, and going to the Queen’s room, and being with her, I have not a moment scarcely to rest or write. Yesterday we visited the whole Schloss full of frescoes, and the studios of all the famous painters—so interesting. How dear Papa would have enjoyed it! I was thinking the whole time what he would have thought of certain pictures, and how much he would have admired some. But at all times seeing things, and most of all pictures, is fatiguing.
Darmstadt, April 21st.
***On Monday Louis goes into the country to shoot capercailzies [Auerhahne]. I accompany him part of the way, but stop at Schweinsberg with Christa’s parents. The air is very good there, and we thought the country would do me good.
***We shall leave probably later [for England], after or just before your birthday. We have a great deal to do in London for our house, for which I should want a week; and from Windsor to leave you for a whole week I should not like, and to go up constantly is rather tiring.
We go from Mayence to Rotterdam by steamer, from thence by rail to Antwerp, and then wait for good weather to cross, so that we shall be long under way, but quite easily and comfortably.
April 25th.
***We shall leave the week of your birthday. Louis wishes us to have a full fortnight in London.
Schweinsberg, April 28th.
***This is a charming country house, in a lovely healthy country; the air has already done me much good. Christa’s parents are charming, clever people, and the life is quiet and refreshing. On Saturday I expect Louis, and then we shall go home.
Darmstadt, May 14th.
Many thanks for your letter, and above all for your great kindness about the ships, for which I thank you many times.
Christa and Becker wrote an account of the wedding,[40] so I won’t write any more about it save that it went off very well and was very vornehm and well-arranged. ***
I have borne the fatigues well; but two days before, for two days and one night, I was very unwell. ***Dr. Weber is a clever man, and is vielseitig [many-sided] in his views on medicine and treatment of illnesses. I think you will like him.
Baby runs alone through two rooms without falling now; she learnt it in a week. She will amuse you so much. Yesterday Louis drove me and his two brothers in a break, and baby went with us much enchanted.
May 17th.
***To-morrow afternoon Fritz and Anna leave. To-day the town gives a large ball, to which we all go, and before it there is a dinner at the Schloss.
May 21st.
***It is excessively hot, which makes me so tired and weak. I am sure you suffered dreadfully from the heat.
The parting from Anna three days ago was dreadful; she so distressed, and her parents also. *** They begin their old age alone, so to say, for there are no children in their house any more. It makes us both very sad to leave them, and seems so unfeeling; but we shall return to them soon. What a blessing that you have Beatrice and two brothers, still boys; and yet, for one alone what an anxiety!
Marlborough House, May 26th.
Arrived here at half-past eleven, and quite rested. I at once write to you to thank you for your letter and for the great comfort of the ships. I feel so much better already from the air on the Rhine those two days, and the fresh sea air, that I have borne the journey this way with but little fatigue. I find Bertie and Alix both looking well, and the baby so pretty and dear.
I slept during the whole night passage, as I went to bed early. I had about twelve hour’s sleep, which has completely set me up. Louis is paying visits. We have lunched, and in the afternoon Bertie and Alix have promised to call on Lady Augusta and Dean Stanley, and we join them. Aunt Cambridge and Mary we shall see afterward.
[From May to August the Princess was in England on a visit to the Queen.]
Kranichstein, August 30th.
***I have stood the journey well, though I am rather fatigued. It is very warm. Louis is off to Jugenheim. I am to go there to-morrow, and it takes my whole day, as it is so far. I have seen none of the family yet. I was so distressed to part from dear Ernest and Marie, they were so dear and good all along the journey. The weather was beautiful and the passage good.
September 2d.
***I am so glad that, from all accounts, every thing went off so very well at Perth[41]; it must have been most trying to you, and yet satisfactory. We read all the accounts you kindly sent us with much interest.
***The Emperor [of Russia] with his second and third sons arrived yesterday. We saw him at the station at Darmstadt, but did not join them as the rest of the family did. We go to Jugenheim to-day and baby with us, as little Serge,[42] who is just Beatrice’s age, has such a passion for her. The children are very nice, the two older sons very big. Uncle Gustav is here, which makes me think of you here this time last year.
September 13th.
***Two days ago we had intense heat, and since great cold—the two extremes constantly, which is so unwholesome. The Emperor is very grateful for your message, and sends his best remembrance. * * * There were seven young men to dinner yesterday, and your glass was used for the first time and looked so pretty.
September 17th.
***The Emperor and Empress [of Russia] before leaving took a most tender farewell of us, and she gave me their Order. They return to Darmstadt on the 27th for a fortnight, as it is now settled that the Empress is to spend the winter at Nice, and she may not go there till the beginning of October at the soonest, as it would be too warm.
***We are in the middle of the second volume of Froude,[43] but it is too detailed to interest you; you have far too much to do to be interested in it. ***Robertson’s beautiful sermons we have also read together, and I have discovered that a German translation exists, and have ordered one.
Mrs. Hardinge[44] leaves me the end of this month, I am sorry to say; for she is very nice, discreet, and ready to do any thing, and not at all of the present bad English genre.
September 20th.
***What you say about the poor sisters, and indeed of all the younger ones, is true. The little brothers and Beatrice are those who have lost the most, poor little things! I can’t bear to think of it, for dear Papa, more peculiarly than any other father, was wanted for his children; and he was the dear friend, and even playfellow, besides. Such a loss as ours is indeed unique. Time only increases its magnitude, and the knowledge of the want is felt more keenly.
***I was yesterday in our little house, arranging and clearing out the rooms. We shall have very close quarters, but it will not be uncomfortable.
***I often wish dear Papa could have seen what a treasure I have in my darling; but I am sure he does see it, and his blessing with yours rests on us, for we seem not separated from either of you, our life is so interwoven with yours.
Where people are unselfish, loving, good, and industrious, like my dear Louis, I always feel a certain likeness beginning to grow up with our dear angel Father! Don’t you? Oh, may we all only become like him! I struggle so hard, dear Mama, in the many little trials I daily have, to become more like him. My trials melt away when I think of you, and I wish I were great and strong to be able to bear some of your great trials for you. Dear Mama, how I love you! how we both love you, and would shield you with our love from all new blows and trials, you know. God comfort you! My heart is often too full to say all that is in it; to tell you all my love and devotion, for your own precious sake, and for dear Papa’s, who left you as a legacy to us all to love and to cherish for him.
September 23d.
To-morrow Louis, I, and my two ladies, take the sacrament in the little church here. I wished much to take it before my hour of trial comes. Dear Louis read to me yesterday evening Robertson’s sermon on the “Sympathy of Christ.”
We have fine autumn weather, and I am out as much as I can. ***I sleep well and breakfast always at half-past eight; we dine at two, and take supper at eight, then my ladies read aloud, and I work or Christa plays, Louis reads his papers, etc. To myself I read Lord Malmesbury’s “Memoirs,” which are very curious, and when Louis has time he reads Froude to me.
Kranichstein, October 4th.
***To-morrow dear Uncle Leopold [King of the Belgians] comes for a few hours. Louis will go to Darmstadt or Mayence to meet him, and I will receive him at the station, as none of the family know him. Louis is out shooting with the Emperor. Uncle Alexander’s throat has already begun to be bad again.
***I am writing quite a confused letter in the midst of household troubles, for the Emperor and Empress have just let me know that they wish to breakfast here, and Louis is out, and I don’t know where or how to have the things in our small ménage. I must therefore conclude and do my business.
October 7th.
***I had the pleasure of seeing dear Uncle two days ago looking wonderfully well, and kind and dear as ever. ***To-day I must go to a large family dinner. Fritz and Anna of Hesse, Grand Duchess Marie, and Prince and Princess William of Baden, besides ourselves, the family, and the Emperor and Empress.
Darmstadt, October 14th.
We are at length here, in great disorder, and I have been waiting half an hour only for a pen to be found. I am tired and not very well. ***Augusta [Lady Augusta Stanley] being with you I am very glad of, and she must be such a comfort to you, for besides being such a friend, she has that peculiar charm of manner which all the Bruces possess.