Soon after this, on the 20th of April, the Princess Louise of Wied died. She had reached the age of ninety-two years, and was much loved and mourned at Neuwied, on account of her charity to the poor.
The presence of her uncle, Prince Nicholas of Nassau, was a great comfort to Princess Elizabeth in her sorrow; but he had to return home, and she could not go with him, though she had a great longing to be with her mother. The Grand Duchess Hélène intended to travel to Germany in the spring, and wished to bring back the young girl to her mother herself. So she had to wait patiently without murmuring.
Clara Schumann came to St. Petersburg early in March, and lived in the Michailow Palace. As Rubinstein could not continue her musical instruction, Princess Elizabeth took lessons of Clara Schumann, and writes:—“And I gazed meanwhile into the beautiful and sad eyes, and thought of all that this woman had suffered, and of the courage with which she had battled her way through life.... It must be very consoling to be old, for then a great feeling of repose comes over us, for which I often long. Every day, I strive for internal peace, which is so soothing, but I must obtain it by many storms and much strife.... Even my aunt said the other day, ‘One can see that you were not made for life in the grand monde.’ I am only myself in solitude; the bustle of the world makes me feel frightened and shy. You, my beloved mother, are the only being that has as much patience with me as God Himself, who is not surprised at anything I do or say, to whom I can tell everything, and who always understands me. And I think you can feel what great happiness still is mine, as I have such a mother!”
As Princess Elizabeth did not now join the large parties on account of her mourning, the highest intellectual interests became the favourite topics of the circle round the Grand Duchess Hélène. The famous member of the Academy, Baer, Count Keyserlingk, Privy Councillor Brevern, Henselt the musician, and many other of the learned and distinguished men were in and out of the Palais Michel, to the great joy of the young girl, who was so thirsty for knowledge.
The Grand Duchess Hélène had announced herself at Moscow for Easter. Her niece was allowed to accompany her, and saw Eastern magnificence and architecture for the first time there. On the 4th of May 1864 she writes from Moscow:—“We are in Moscow, that old patriotic town, with its houses of one or two stories, green roofs, and four hundred churches, which are all aglow with the brightest colours. The dimensions of the streets are so enormous that one does not know where the street ends and the open space begins. It is too curious! The town, with its one-storied houses and their surrounding gardens, is quite countrified, almost like a village, and yet it is beautiful. You only see little houses, which are very gay, and still gayer churches. These are bright blue, with light green roofs or domes, or red, green, and blue, all brightly mixed. I think Moscow is only beautiful in bright sunshine, when the hundreds of domes are glistening and throwing their rays on the green roofs. In the Kremlin I saw the treasures of the Church, as also the treasury and armoury in which all the crowns are kept. I am most interested by the antiquity of these things and their historical recollections. There is also kept the enormous silver caldron in which the holy oil is prepared and consecrated. Every three years it is made to simmer for three days and mixed with sweet-scented herbs, whilst prayers are unceasingly offered; then it is consecrated and blessed in the church, and is now called le saint crême. Forty to fifty pots are then filled with it. This oil is much prized far and near, as it is used for the consecration of churches, as well as at births and deaths. The many and different ways in which people try to make themselves holy touch me much; and even if we are inclined to ask what is the use of this oil and holy water, we must admit that it displays a childish craving to be purified, and a firm faith in the power of prayer, which can consecrate everything. I find so much cheerfulness and childish faith in the rites of the Greek Church, and less superstition than in the Roman Catholic, but none of the earnestness of ours. It strikes me, too, that our Church in her noblest form—as I speak of the others in their noblest form—is eminently suited to the German character. We have all a tendency to be absorbed in thought, to muse on our own nature, and to seek to attain to a knowledge of God through our own inmost hearts.”
After her return from a most interesting excursion to the monastery of St. Sergius, Princess Elizabeth says in a letter to her mother:—“The monastery is wide, low, and massive, like all Byzantine churches, and partly gloomy, or too bright for our taste. Everything in the Byzantine churches is bright and cheerful, and the religion is also a cheerful one. It is the religion of the Resurrection. Good Friday is hardly kept at all, whereas Easter is kept for a week. They are naturally cheerful, and even the monks look bright and uncultivated. They differ entirely from the hollow-cheeked ascetic monks of the West, nor have their monasteries the same influence as our monasteries.”
Princess Elizabeth was quite delighted with the expedition to Moscow. She was charmed with the palace of the Grand Duchess, with the large garden adjoining, and the daily life was more like that of a family party. Everything reminded her of Monrepos. She felt herself unrestrained, at home; her health was restored, and she fully enjoyed every pleasure. Attended by the ladies-in-waiting, she was sent by the Grand Duchess to visit the many charitable institutions, and behaved with so much assurance that it appeared as if she were in the habit of inspecting and examining. On getting into the train on her return journey she exclaimed, “Those were happy days,” as she gazed back at the old city of the Czars.
The time of her stay at St. Petersburg was coming to an end. For her future life it was to be a time of great importance. She had become accustomed to life at a great Court, had learnt to know the rites and ceremonies of the Greek Church, and her social and intellectual sphere had widened during her stay with the Grand Duchess Hélène. In a letter which she wrote as reigning Princess of Roumania six years later she dwells upon this as follows:—“I feel every day what a blessing my intercourse with my aunt and her circle of friends was for my whole life. In my present position it is of untold value to me.”
Early in June the Grand Duchess brought her niece back to Germany. The Princess of Wied awaited her daughter at Leipsic. What a sorrowful meeting it was! And the return to the desolate Monrepos was hardly to be borne. Her deep sorrow for the loss of her father, which she had had to keep back, now broke out with all its power. Wherever she looked she seemed to see him, and she thought she could not live without him. She longed for his words of teaching, which had brought her to think for herself; for the old habits, which always had him for their object and centre.
To her Brother.