This house is quite close to the Rhine, and this instant our pioneers have come by from Worms on their pontoon bridge singing a quartett, about twenty or thirty men. It looks so pretty, and they sing so beautifully. On their marches the soldiers always sing, and they have so many beautiful songs, such as: “Der gute Kamerad.” The Germans are such gemütklich [simple, kindly, sociable] people. The more one lives with them, the more one learns to appreciate them. It is a fine nation. God grant this war, which has produced so many heroes, and cost so many gallant lives, may not have been in vain, and that at length Germany may become a mighty, powerful Power! It will then be the first in the world, where the great ideas and thoughts come from, free from narrow-minded prejudice, and when once the Germans have attained political freedom, they will be lastingly happy and united.
But the present state of things is sad, though one should not despair of some good resulting from it.
My letter is quite confused. I beg a thousand pardons for it, but I have been interrupted so often.
Gelbes Haus, August 29th.
* * * The children arrived well and safe, and in such good looks. It was a great pleasure to see them again; and I tried to make Victoria tell me as much as possible of dear Grandma and uncles and aunts, and when she is not absent-minded she is very communicative. How much we thank you, darling Mama, for having kept them and been so good to them I can’t tell you. This change has been so good for them; for now there are both cholera and small-pox at Darmstadt, which is still full of Prussian soldiers. More have come, and our peace is not yet concluded. I hope it is no bad sign, and that the hopes of losing less will not disappear.
We were only in Darmstadt for the day when the children arrived, and we go there for a few hours to-morrow on business. Louis has a great deal to do, and all the military things are in his hands.
I am not feeling very well. The air here after a few days is relaxing, and I begin to feel more what a strain there has been on my nerves during this time. I have such a pain in my side again. Mountain air Weber wants me to have, and quiet, away from all bothers; but I fear that is impossible now, on account of Louis not being able to leave—and then financially.
I have some Heimweh [home-sickness] after dear England, Balmoral, and all at home, I own, though the joy of being near dear Louis again is so great! But life is meant for work, and not for pleasure, and I learn more and more to be grateful and content with that which the Almighty sends me, and to find the sunshine in spite of the clouds; for when one has one’s beloved, adored husband by one’s side, what is there in the world that is too heavy to bear? My own darling Mama, when I think of darling Papa and of you, and that he is not visible at your side now, I long to clasp you to my heart, in some way to cheer the loneliness which is a poor widow’s lot. Oh, none in the world is harder than that!
Darmstadt, August 31st.
* * * Thank you for telling me how you spent that dear day; it must have been peaceful and solemn, the beautiful country harmonizing well with the thoughts of that great and beautiful soul which ever lives on with us. He remains nearer and nearer to me, and the recollection of many things dear Papa told me is a help and a stay in my actions, particularly of late. The separation seems so short. I can see him and hear him speak so plainly. Alas! my children have never seen him. Through you, darling Mama, and in your rooms, and at your side, they must learn to know him, that they may become worthy of their descent.