I have but little news to give. I go about to the poor soldiers’ widows and wives—no end of them, with new-born babies, in the greatest distress.
Yesterday I saw the mother of the poor young soldier who died. She keeps your cape as a precious relic, as it had given him such great pleasure.
January 30th.
Your charming photograph and kind letter arrived this morning—thousand thanks for both! How like the photograph, and how pleasing! I am so glad to have it.
The armistice and capitulation of Paris are great events. The people are out of their minds with joy—flags all over the town, and the streets crowded.
I forgot to say in my last letter how grieved I was about Beaty Durham’s[102] death. It is quite shocking! and those numbers of children in so short a time. I earnestly hope none of us run such a chance, for on the whole our children have not been so close together. My last came sooner than I wished, and is smaller than his brother, but I hope now for a long rest. I have baby fed, besides, so as not to try my strength. He is very healthy and strong, and is more like Victoria and my brothers and sisters than my other children, and his eyes remind me of Uncle Ernest’s, and seem turning brown, which would be very pretty, as he is very fair otherwise.
Your pretty photograph is standing before me, and makes me quite absent. I catch myself continually staring at it, instead of writing my letters.
Darmstadt, February 2d.
* * * All the many French here are pleased at the capitulation of Paris, and hope that peace is certain. Louis writes to me that the inhabitants of Orleans were equally pleased, and consider the war over. I earnestly pray it may be so. How greatly relieved and thankful all Germany would be!
Louis telegraphed to-day. He has no leave as yet, though he hopes for it. Now that there is a prospect of peace, and that the fighting is momentarily over, I feel quite a collapse of my nerves, after the strain that has been on them for six whole months. I can scarcely imagine what it will be when my beloved Louis is at home again; it seems too great a joy! Rest and quiet together are what I long for; and I fear in the first weeks he will have so much to do, and there will be much going on.