If we live, and peace is restored, the country and every thing will be in such a mess, and both of us in such want of change, that we must go somewhere; but we shall then, I fear, be next to ruined. You can’t think what war in one’s own country—in a little one like this—is! The want is fearful. I must go to bed, as it is late. I am well, so is the little one; but I can’t sleep or eat well all along; and the worry of mind and much to do keep me weak.
Oh, that we were together again! Good-bye beloved Mama. These next days I fear will be dreadful. May the Almighty watch over dear Louis! You will pray for him, won’t you?
P.S.—The standard of Louis’ cavalry regiment, which they did not take with them, and which is usually kept at the Schloss, is in my room for safety.
Forgive the shocking writing, but I am so upset to-night, since my messenger of Tuesday returned with Louis’ letter.
Darmstadt, August 4th.
* * * The linen, etc., for the wounded has arrived, and been so useful; a thousand thanks for it! Matters here change from one day to another, and I hope Louis may soon be able to return with the troops. Uncle Louis I do hope and pray will then return, and I hope he will regain the favor which he had lost, for any change now would be dreadful.
My father-in-law is really in such a state since these events, and his nerves so shattered, that my mother-in-law trembles for him, and tries to keep him out of all. He is so angry, so heartbroken at the loss of Oberhessen, which is probable, that he wishes not to outlive it. My poor mama-in-law burst into tears this morning in my room, where this scene took place.
I have just returned from having been to inquire after the wounded at the different hospitals and houses, which are filling fast as they can be brought from Aschaffenburg, Laufach, etc. As soon as I am better, I will go to them myself; but the close and crowded wards turn one easily faint.
Becker saw Louis three days ago, and accompanied him to Munich for a day. I hear he is well, though for six nights he had slept out of doors, and the last three nights it had poured incessantly; and all that time—on account of ours not having a truce, and expecting to be attacked—they were, being such a mass together, without provisions, barely a morsel of bread. I am so distressed about poor Anton Hohenzollern and Obernitz; so many acquaintances and friends have fallen on both sides, it is dreadful!