LIFE OF THE PRINCESS ALICE

Lyttelton Times, Volume LXI, Issue 7223, 24 April 1884, Page 6

LIFE OF THE PRINCESS ALICE

A most interesting biographical memoir of the late Princess Alice has been published in German at Darmstadt. It is, says the translator of some notable extracts in a London paper, chiefly constructed of material furnished by the deceased Princess herself in her letters to her august mother, who has been graciously pleased to place them at the disposal of the author of " Alice” —a work of transcendent interest, appropriately dedicated to her Eoyal Highness’ five surviving children. “ This little book,” observes its compiler profatorially, “ in which are gathered together a few scattered leaves of a flower suddenly withered at the moment of its most splendid development, will obtain access to many a house in the old and new homes of her with whom it deals ; for it may serve to teach its readers that the simple virtues of a pure womanly character shine with a lustre far more intense than all the dazzling splendour of mere worldly honours.”

“ Alice " opens with a brief but graphic sketch of the Princess' childhood and youth. The great Exhibition of 1851 brought over to London, amongst other illustrious visitors of Queen Victoria, the then Prince of Prussia (now German Emperor), with his whole family, and it was upon that occasion that his daughter, the present Grand Duchess of Baden, be3ame acquainted with Princess Alice, whom she describes as follows -.— Her nature was nt that time a Wending of gaiety, tenderness, grace, and amiability. Although she was continually compelled to give way to her elder sister, she never showed the least ill-temper wheu consigned to the background. Her sense o( humour and delicate faculty of observation wore conspicuous, even at that early ago (she was eight years old), and she also possessed to an extraordinary extent the gift of making herself agreeable. Our walks and drives together, our life in the schoolroom, our games in the corridors or in old Baron Stockmar’s rooms,' and all the happiness I enjoyed in the company of both sisters, are for me unextinguishahle recollections. Two years later the Prussian Princess, again a visitor at Windsor, writes: — Alice is now more frequently allowed to participate in the duties and pleasures of grown-tip people, hut preserves all the charm of her winning, childish grace. Her humourous traits are become more salient, as well as a certain severity of judgment upon unsympathetic persons. Many a little quarrel is fought oat in the schoolroom, exhibiting the individualities of the two sisters in marked contrast, without diminishing the cordiality of their mutual relations. ♦ » ♦ The strictness of the Queen and Prince Consort with respect to their children was less constantly exercised towards Alice than towards the others. * * * Her hearty joyousness and keen suseeptibilifcy to beautiful and loveable impressions imparted a speciil attraction to her hindsome person, remarkable for the delicacy of its outline, grace of its movements, inborn elegance and distinction. Again, eight years later, and only a few weeks after the death of Prince Albert, the Grand Duchess of Baden writes of her beloved young cousin, then not long betrothed to Prince of Louis of Hesse:— According to the unanimous testimony of numerous eye witnesses, what Alice did and endured before and after her father’s decease must have been simply amazing. Herself filled with inexpressible grief at the loss of her adored father —and what a father he was, what a head of his family, what a friend and counsellor to all who belonged to him!—she unhesitatingly took into her own young hands everything that was requisite to keep things going during the terrible first tnomei ts that succeeded the shattering of the happiest and most fully blest household I have ever seen. All communications from the Ministers and Court officials were by her imparted to the afflicted Queen ; she was busy all day long, with voice and pen, relieving her mother of every burden she could take upon hersslf. It was during that sorrowful time, whilst she actively participated in the transaction of State business on behalf of the unhappy Queen, that Alice developed that interest and understanding of politics for which she subsequently became so distinguished.

Immediately after her marriage, in the summer of 1862, the correspondence with her august mother —which constitutes nine-tenths of the hook—commences. In the following extracts, which we sub-

join without attempting to comment upon them, Princess Alice will be found to have all unconsciously thrown abundant light upon the many sides of a character that was as beautiful in detail as it was admirable and worshipful in ensemble. Within a month of her wedding-day, she wrote to the Queen: —

You say that I am to tell you all about my—about our happiness. You can well understand the feeling which compelled me to be silent on this point to my own darling.bereaved mamma; but you are so unselfish and kind that you will realise my bliss, although I could never have told you of my own accord how great it is, because my doing so must make you feel more than ever the painful contrast between your past and present life. To toll you that I love my husband is uot enough; my affection and respect forbim increase daily, hourly, and are reciprocated by him towards myself with every proof of consideration and loving tenderness. What was my former life to that which I now live f It is such hallowed peace to be by his side, his wife—such a feeling of security; we two, when we are together, live in a world of our own, which nothing can meddle with or disturb. My lot is indeed a blest one—and yet, what have I done to deserve the warm, passionate love lavished upon me by my dear adored Lonis ? I admire his good and noble heart more than I can say. You know how he loves me, and that he will be a good eon to y< u. Three weeks later, apropos of an article upon her deceased father that had then just been published, she writes

Oh! mamma, the yearning for papa that I often experience passes all bounds. He is always with me in my thoughts; but we are only mortals after all, and as such cannot but long, from time to time, to see bim in leality. Dear, good papa! Take courage, darling mamma, and fortify yourself with the thought that you require all your spiritual and physical strength to continue the journey that daily brings you nearer to Home and to Him. I know how weary you feel—how you crave to lay your head once more upon his dear shoulder, and to have him with you to heal your wounded heart. But you will find peace again, and it will he a blessed peace. Bear your heavy burden bravely and patiently; it will imperceptibly become lighter as you approach Him, and God’s love and mercy will support you. If my weak words could only convey the least comfort to you ! At least they emanate from a trustful, true, and loving heart. >

Her deep love and ineradicable sorrow for ber inestimable father found expression in several of the letters quoted, ranging in dates from 1862 to 1878. Two or three extracts, given, without regard to chronological order, touchingly illustrate the hero-worship as well as filial devotion she paid to the Prince Consort: Darmstadt.

The longer I live, and the more I sea and understand of the world, the more my fond admiration tor such a father increases. I feel how little nnd i loomplete I am when I think that X am his child, a’thongh s* unworthy to be so. How many people taere are here who take pleasure iu bearing about npa ,and question me with respect to him. You can understand how proudly and lovingly I speak of him, and relate incidents to them which cause them to share our grief at no longer having him with us hero below. If ever a man exercised influence after his death, it has been dear papa. He will always be the very centre and guiding star of all my thoughts and purposes. Beloved, darling papa; ho did not half know how I loved and worshipped him, even when I wns but a silly child. His grand life will serye as a model to many, many people—aye, even to future generations; and his noble ideas and aims cannot bo indifferent to anyone acquainted with thorn. Carlsrnhe.

As every year at this season my thoughts are with you; each successive year renews the anniversary of our terrible calamity, and it seems to mo quite impossible that already live years have passed away since he whom we so fondly loved was snatched from our sight. How, whenever this time of the year recurs, do I thank Almighty God again and again that Ho preserved you to us wheu we were trembling for your precious life, and fearing that two persons who hud been so closely united in life could not possibly be parted from one another even in death. As for us poor children, what could we—what, indeed, could the country have done had that second catastrophe befallen us ? And yet it seemed both selfish and unkind to wish that your heart—that of a loving wife— should he doomed to a forlorn widowed existence. • ' . Darmstadt.

I have as yet scarcely achieved my return into the so-onllod world. Life is serious—a journey towards another goal. I thankfully accept and rejoice over the flowers strewn by God upon our life-path, to make it brighter j but much that was inestimably dear- to me—as this day (Deo. 1-) recalls—lies buried in the grave: a x»ieco of my heart is there, too, although the loved ones’ spirits, like that of my adored papa, live ever with mo. Ho was the holiest and most luminous part of our lives—our guiding star. Would that wo resembled him, so that wo might follow him! The older X grow, the more complete, odifyiug, and nohlo darling papa’s image appears to my soul. Such a perfect life, devoted exclusively to duty, so cheerful and unpretentious, will remain for all time to come something unspeakably lovely and grand. How gentle, amiable, and merry, too, lie was with every one I I cau never talk about him, even to people who did not know him, without the tears starting to my eyes, as they do now. Ho was and Is my ideal, I never knew a man who could ho compared to him, or who. like him, was made to ho Bincoroly loved and admired.

, , . Darmstadt, what a man he was, in every sense of the word I What a prince I How exactly what tho old baron (Stockmar) had always urged him to bo! Life by his side must have been so tranquil; how you must have loved him I It wrings my heart over and over again to read and remember what papa was to you,

and that you were compelled to lo ; e him in the burden and heat of tho day, when you needed him so sorely. It is well with him; his was a long lifetime, though it only lasted forty-two years, and bo well earned his repose. Tho hour draws nigh at which, twelve years ago, we pressed his hand for tho last time. How Well do I remember that last sunrise, and tho terrible night with you which succeeded that apmlling day 1 • • • Tennyson’s marvellous dedication expresses everything X feel and could wish to say. All I cau add, and with a heavy sigh, is that I would fain bo worthier of such a father! How far beneath him I have over remained j if not in my objects, at least in their achievement 1

On May 29, 1873, the Princess Alice’s second son, Frederick, was killed by a fall from her bedroom window upon a stone terrace. To this catastrophe the bereaved mother alluded in affecting terms in several letters to the Queen, e.g. : Darmstadt. The horror attendant upon the .sudden death of my dear little boy still causes me excessive agony, especially upon awaking early in the morning; but, when I reflect that he is at peace, emancipated from tho cares under which we suffer, and untouched by all tho ills the future may contain, I resign myself to destiny. He was such a Merry child ! All about ino seems so quiet now. [miss his little footsteps trotting towards me for we were so much together, and poor little Ernie feels so deserted, Yesterday evening wo went to the mausoleum with all the children. It is a quiet little spot amongst trees and flowers, and commanding a pretty view of hill and vale. Me was so fond of flowers; I can never see a flower by the wayside without wishing that I might piuci it for him. Scebcim. I send you two photographs of darling Erittie. * * * The little blouse is the one he wore on that dreadful day. My dear, beloved child, to lose him thus ! I shall carry this grief to my grave. * * * I am so glad you have a little coloured portrait of my dear one. I am more cast down and sad than ever heretofore, and miss him so constantly. There is such a gap between Ernie and bunny • and the two hoys made such a handsome pair and were such good companions. Having so many girls I wag especially proud of our two hoys. My joy did not last long; now, however, be is more than ever mine. He seems to he always near me, and in my heart I keep his dear portrait, which can never fade or perish. Darmstadt, Well do I know what your suffering and bereavement were, in comparison to mine; hut in my opinion the two eases are so different that they can hardly be compared to one another. Your life was shattered and hurled to the ground—was shaken to its very foundation by the loss of all iu One; mine remained unaltered, but for a void in a mother’s heart, the anguish awakened by a thousand trifles, scarcely appreciable to the world at large, or even to one’s own family : and it is this constant consciousness of being the only one who feels in this way that darkens life with mute suffering, which has to be endured without cessation.

That the Princess took a lively interest in politics and was credited by monarchs and statesmen with the capacity for comprehending questions of the greatest moment, will be apparent from the subjoined records of statements made to her at different times by Czar Alexander 11. and the late Prince Gortschakoff, as well as from her own pregnant remarks upon the Russian invasion of Turkey in 1877. During an after-dinner conversation in the summer of 1876 the Russian Emperor said to her:— Dites a Hainan encore une fois, commc cela me rejonil (1b saroir, comme c’est elle qui tient a la paix. Nous ne pouvons, nous ne voulons pas nous brouiller avec 1' Angleterre. II faudrait etre fon de penser a Constantinople ou aux Indes.” Tears stood in his eyes, and he seemed so touched, as if a heavy load had been taken from him ; he seemed glad, too, for Marie and Affle that things are righting themselves again. I thought of you and of your 39 years of unenviable rule, were it not for the service one is able, in such a weighty position, to render to one’s country and the world at large. Private people have much thebcstofit; our prerogatives entail more duties than advantages, and their non-existence would be no loss compared to the vast gain of being your own master ; on a footing of equality with the majority of your fellow-creatures—in a position to gain knowledge of men and of the world as they really are, and not as it pleases them to appear in order to he agreeable to us. A few days later the Prince-Chancellor took occasion to deliver himself to her upon the subject of her mother-countryi

• * * We dined yesterday with uncle Louis, the Emperor, and the Grand Duke of Weimar, in Seeheim. The Emperor told me he had written to you; but Prince Gortschakoff did not seem particularly cheerful, and said to me: “ Pranchemeut, puis-jfi vousle dire, je desirerais voir I’Angleterre gnude, forte, decidee dans la politique comme I’etait Canning et les grand hommes d’etat qnej’ai conmi en Anglelerre il y a quarante ans. La Enssie cst grande et forte; que I’Angleterrele soit aussi, nous n’avons pas besoin be faire attention a tons les petits ’’ He observed that we manufactured our foreign policy and despatches for our Blue-books, and that we did not entertain any frank, definite policy before the House of Commons and the world at large.

After the struggle for the Balkan passes had commenced,’ she wrote from Darmstadt; I am watching the Russians’ advance, aa eagerly as anybody in England can, and with sincere aversion. They can never he the redressers of injustice or farther the cause of civilisation and Christianity. What I am afraid of is that, even if they do not seize Constantinople and advance exorbitant pretensions as the price of their conquests, the declaration of Bulgaria’s independence will transform that country into what Roumania has hitherto been for Russia, and that thereby they will get all they want twenty years hence—unless, indeed the other Powers can arrange it otherwise at the eleventh hour. It would be a bad thing for England, Austria, and Germany, should this EnssoSlav element become predominant in Europe, and the other States will he obliged, sooner or later, to take measures to prevent this, in pure ssl'-de-fence. What do the friends of the “Atrocity ” meetings say now ? How they have aggravated the diihcutties of the Government's task—how blind have they been ! All this must bo the cause of constant trouble and agitation to you. Her kiudheartedness and pride in lier native country are betlx sympathetically exemplified in the following lines : Darmstadt. We were both greatly startled, I mar even say saddened, In the Emperor Napoleon’s death ; he was personally so amiable. The Empress is much to be pitied. How strange that he, as well as Louis Philippe, should have died in exile. The sympathy displayed for him in England must touch the poor Empress deeply; and, as I have telegraphed to her, I should be so grateful to von if you would kindly be the medium through which we may both express the warm sympathy we feel for her. How proud you must be to know that yours is the country which is able at all times to offer hospitality to refugees. In this respect England stands before all other countries, and the warm interest it manifests in all those who are unfortunate is such a magnanimous trait! Her views with respect to the'education of her children and the grave incumbencies of exalted rank resulting from the accident of birth are especially instructive: I am so entirely of your opinion about the education of our children, it is my earnest endeavour to bring them np free from pride in their station, which, indeed, is naught except what they may make of it by their own inward merit. I read your letter to their governess, who complies with all my wishes in this matter; for it struck me how useful a knowledge of your views might be to her. I feel as you do about differences of rank, and of what supreme importance it is to princes and princesses to understand that they are no better than other people, nor more exalted, unless it be by the force of their own desserts; and that upon them is imposed the double duty of living for others and showing them an example of goodness and modesty. Thus, 1 hope, my children will grow up. Niersteiu The children arrived all well, and looking very bright. It was a great joy to see thorn again, and Victoria had to tell me as much as pos.ible about her dear grandmamma and nudes and aunts. When her thoughts are not astray she is very communicative. How grateful we are to yon, darling mamma, for having taken care of them ami been so kind to them! * • • I confess that I yearn a little for dear England, Balmoral, and all at home • ♦ » but Life is meant for work, not for play, and I am learning more and more to be grateful and contested with wliat the Almighty sends me—to see sunshine through the clouds—for what can be hard to hear in this world as long as oao has one’s beloved, adored husband by one’s side ? My own darling mamma, when I think of you and dear papa, and that he is ne longer visibly with yon, I would fain strain you to my heart and comfort you in the loneliness which is the poor widow’s lot. Oh, nothing in the world is hai der than that f Darmstadt. You are indeed right in saying what a mistake parents make in bringing up their daughters with the sole practical object of marrying them off. It seems that this is the leading characteristic of English education amongst the upper classes. It shall be my endeavour to bring up my girls in such a way that they shall not regard marriage as the one thing ueedtul fn their future, and that they may feel themselves equal to employing their lives just as usefully in other directions. Marriage for marriage’s sake is surely the greatest error a woman can commit. * * • X know what an allabsorbing feeling devotion to parents is; as long as I was in the house of my father and mother that feeling filled my whole soul. So it does now to a groat extent, and my longing for Homo has not ceased despite my long absence. Darmstadt. I never forget anything yon toll me; and, as you say, nothing is more disadvantageous to children than to make too much of them. They ought to be unselfish, unspoilt, and easily satisfied. Up to the present, this is the ease with mine. That they occupy a move salient position in my life than is often the case in families of our rank is simply because I have never been able to employ persons enough of a responsible kind to look after them j upon this account certain things remain undone, unless X do them myself—and the children would suffer were they not done. I certainly do not belong by nature to the class of women who are wives avanttout; but circumstances have compelled me to ho a mother in the true meaning of the word, and I had to school myaelf to it, I assure you, many self-sacrifices proving unavoidable. But childworship, or having one’s children always about one without intermission, is by no means the right thing ; and women are intolerable who continually

talk about their own children. I hope lam free from these faults at least, I try to be so t for I agree with every word you say, and so did Leuis, when I read him your letter. The last division of this fascinating book is mournfully headed “ The Goal ” by its compiler—a title in reality furnished by the Princess herself, who, in a letter dated Dec. 12,1874, wrote: “ Life is serious; a journey to another goal.” During the month of November, 1878, her husband and all her children but one were attacked by diphtheria. The youngest daughter. Princess May, succumbed; the others rallied, but only to suffer the overwhelming disaster of losing the incomparable wife and mother who had nursed them through the" Valley of the Shadow of Death, and sacrificed her own life to their recovery. On Dec. 6 the stricken Princess wrote her last letter to her mother: — To-duy Louis and Ernie will drive out in a close carriage, for it is warm, though raining. Louis' strength is returning, but so slowly ; he naturally shrinks from returning to the ordinary existence, in which our loss will make itself so much more heavily felt. To him, who has been so long shut up in hia room, what has h ippened seems more like a dream; lam so thankful that they have been spared the terrible reality which I have Lad to endure alone. My cup seemed too full; still I found strength to bear all. Eut I have to struggle and pray for resignation daily. It is a great griefone, I know too well, that will last for many a year.—Ever your loving child, Alice. Two days later she became very feverish, and exhibited unmistakable symptoms of diphtheritis. She was only ill for six days in all, and on the eve of her death felt so much better that she was able to talk to her husband, and to read a letter from her adored mother. Next morning, at halfpast eight, whilst only half conscious, she murmured, “ Friday to Saturday—four weeks—May—my father,” and expired, with that last word upon her lips. In death, as in life, her soul clung to the memory of the great and good man whose eyes she had closed seventeen years before that memorable anniversary, never to be forgotten by Englishmen or Germans as the death-day of Albert and Alice, two of the noblest “ children of men ” ever yet bom into a perplexed and sorely-troubled world.