The Crown Princess also speaks with deep feeling for the Queen Dowager, who had never really liked her, and who, as we know, had been in sympathy so pro-Russian all through the Crimean War. But this grief brought the two together as perhaps nothing else could have done, and the Princess says: “She was so kind to me, kinder than she has ever been yet, and said I was like her own child and a comfort to her.”
Prince Albert was evidently greatly moved by his daughter’s letter. In his reply he reminds her that in one of the most impressive experiences of life she was now older than himself. “The more frequently you look upon the body, the stronger will be your conviction that yonder casing is not the man, yea, that it is scarcely conceivable how it can have been. In seeing and observing the approach of death, as you have been called upon to do, you have become older in experience than myself. I have never seen anyone die.” To Stockmar the Prince wrote that “The Princess, now Crown Princess, has in the late trying time at Berlin again behaved quite admirably, and receives on all sides the most entire recognition.”
That same eventful January of 1861, the Princess lost two firm and loyal friends in Lord and Lady Bloomfield. She parted with them with great regret, and presented to Lady Bloomfield a bust of little Prince William done by herself.
At that time it must indeed have seemed to the Crown Princess as if all her own and her husband’s hopes and aspirations for a full and useful public life were about to be amply fulfilled. The new King had not only always been an affectionate father to his only son and heir, but he had also been marked among the princes of his time for his liberal opinions and English sympathies.
The third anniversary of the Crown Princess’s marriage came very soon after the death of the old King, and writing on that day to her mother she said: “Every time our dear wedding day returns I feel so happy and thankful—and live every moment of that blessed and never-to-be-forgotten day over again in thought. I love to dwell on every minute of the day; not a hope has been disappointed, not an expectation that has not been realised, and much more—that few can say—and I am thankful as I ought to be.”
Soon after the accession of William I, Herr Max Duncker was formally attached to the Crown Prince as a channel of communication in State matters. Duncker had been Professor of History at the Universities of Halle and Tübingen, and had also obtained some practical experience of politics as a member of the Frankfort and Erfurt Diet, and as a Prussian deputy. He had indeed been chosen by Stockmar for the position of confidential adviser to the Prince, with whom and with the Princess he was already in favour; and he saw in his new post an opportunity of sowing seed which might one day spring up and bear fruit an hundred-fold.
In March the death of the Duchess of Kent deprived the Crown Princess of a grandmother to whom she had been very warmly attached, and with whom was associated all the events of her happy childhood and girlhood.
On receiving the unexpected news, for the Duchess of Kent had only been really ill a few hours, the Princess started for England, not entirely with the approval of her father-in-law. The Prince Consort, who in this matter of his daughter’s relations to her father-in-law always showed exceptional tact, wrote and thanked the King: “Her stay here has been a great comfort and delight to us in our sorrow and bereavement, and we are truly grateful for it.”
The problem of the Schleswig-Holstein duchies and the unfortunate Macdonald affair combined to draw England and Prussia still further apart. It is true that the latter was formally settled in May, but the bad feeling it created was not appeased. Lord Palmerston said in the House that the conduct of the Prussian Government had been a blunder as well as a crime, while the Prussian Foreign Minister (Baron von Schleinitz), then on the eve of his retirement, retaliated with a stiff rejoinder.
A leading article in the Times, backing up Palmerston’s view, is described by Prince Albert, in a letter to Berlin, as “studiedly insulting.” At the same time the Prince saw clearly that Schleinitz had made a mistake in mixing up the Macdonald affair with la haute politique. “In Germany the idea of the State in the abstract is a thing divine; here it means the freedom of the individual citizen.” And he goes on to say that the feeling in England ought to teach Prussia that mere talk will not do.