200 CHAPTER XI. BARON STOCKMAR had not concluded the letter just quoted when the tidings reached him of the death at Gotha the previous day (29th January, 1844) of Prince Albert's father after a few hours' illness. The old physician had foreseen the probability of such an event, and had prepared the Prince to expect it. But the shock of such terrible surprises is not the less severe, however often the imagination may previously have pictured them; and the Baron knew so well the depth of the Prince's affection for his father, that he felt the blow would fall upon him with a stunning force. His words of sympathy were few, but of the best kind-drawing comfort from the past, and pointing to the claims of duty for the future. Happy the son who at such a time could be assured by so sincere a friend, as the Prince is assured by Stockmar in the conclusion of his letter, that he had failed in no single duty to his parent. I had written thus far yesterday,' says Stockmar, continuing his letter on the 30th January, when some hours ago we were surprised by the sad news from Gotha. Ever since have I been sharing, my dear Prince, in every thought and feeling which they must have awakened within you. The greatness and strength of my sympathy make me most keenly conscious of the full extent of my peculiar regard and affection for you. How thankful I am to Heaven that your grief can fall back upon the remembrance of a past, in which 1844 DEATH OF PRINCE'S FATHER. 201 no one thing can be found for which a good son can now have reason to feel remorse. 'A task of the dearest moment, and one which, connected as it is with the immediate cause of your grief, may even now while it is fresh fitly claim your attention, is the serious consideration of your brother's position and future. Rarely, indeed, has the actual state of affairs made it at once so essential and so easy for a young prince on his accession to power to make a good and effective start. Well for him, if he shall see his way to seek the right course at once, to find, and place himself upon it; and if he shall set out with public acts, which, bearing within themselves true theories of government as a vital principle, must secure him the respect of his own country, and thereby that of all Germany. Only by winning this respect can he secure the other essentials-confidence, affection, popularity -and only by it will he be enabled to thread, as by an unfailing clue, the perplexing mazes of a prince's life. To achieve it is not only possible, but in the early days (which, however, run quickly by) even extremely easy. God grant that he give himself good counsel, that he be counselled well by others, and above all that a beloved brother counsel him as a brother should, and as that brother's intelligence and character so peculiarly qualify him for doing. 'Thus, then, at a season full of grave earnestness do I lay the whole weal and woe of a poor little country-but that country your own native land-upon Your Royal Highness's heart. That your father's sudden demise could be little of a surprise to me, you will remember, as ever since your marriage I have often told you to expect his early and sudden death." The Prince's thoughts, after the first shock of the announcement, turned to the friend, of whose sympathy he did not require this letter to be assured, and whose sage counsel in all emergencies had never failed him. So, too, did the Queen's-one with him in this, as in all else. Oh, if you could be here now with us!' Her Majesty writes to Baron Stockmar (4th February). My darling stands so alone, and his grief is so great and touching. He says (forgive my bad writing, but my tears blind me), I am now all to him. Oh, if I can be, I shall be only too happy, but I am so disturbed and affected myself, I fear I can be but of little use.'1 To Baron Stockmar the Prince himself wrote: 'Dear Stockmar,-My heart impels me to give vent to my tears upon the bosom of a true and loving friend. I have sustained a terrible loss, and can as yet scarcely believe it. I fancy I still hear your prophetic words ringing in my ears, that my poor father would die suddenly. So it has proved. God will give us all strength to bear the blow becomingly. That we were separated gives it a peculiar poignancy. Not to see him, not to be present to close his eyes, not to help to comfort those he leaves behind, and to be comforted by them, is very hard. Here we sit together, poor Mama, Victoria, and myself, and weep, with a great cold public around us, insensible as stone. To have some true sympathetic friends at hand would be a great solace. Come to us in this time of trouble, if come you can. 'With him it is well. I share your belief that his would have been a dreary old age; and even were not my faith strong in the Providence which shapes all things for our good, I should find consolation in this. Still for us the 'I have been with the Queen,' writes Lady Lyttelton in a letter at this time, a good deal altogether. She is very affecting in her grief, which is in truth all on the Prince's account, and every time she looks at him her eyes fill afresh. He has suffered dreadfully, being very fond of his father; and his separation from him, and the suddenness of the event, and his having expected to see him soon, all contribute to make it worse.' 1844 THE PRINCE'S FATHER. 203 loss is terrible. The parent stem has been levelled by the storm, and the branches, which are scattered all over the world, must now strike separate roots for themselves. May Love, Friendship, Harmony keep them all together! For me the father's house is for ever closed; that house, it did me good to think, I might return to upon occasion. The sweet feeling that thought inspired I shall never know again. This reflection shakes me to the centre. "This shall not weaken my love for my widowed native land. I will help Ernest with heart and hand in the difficult task to which he is called. Unfortunately, I am greatly hampered by being so far away. How much need has poor Grandmama of consolation, who has now lost her last friend! And poor desolate Mama! The good Alexandrine seems to me in the whole picture like the consoling angel. Just such is Victoria to me, who feels and shares my grief, and is the treasure on which my whole existence rests. The relation in which we stand to one another leaves nothing to desire. It is a union of heart and soul, and is therefore noble, and in it the poor children shall find their cradle, so as to be able one day to ensure a like happiness for themselves. 'Outside there is still much to do, and I long greatly for your wise and faithful counsel. 'The world is assuredly not our true happiness; and, alas! every day's experience forces me to see how wicked men are. Every imaginable calumny is heaped upon us, especially upon me; and although a pure nature, conscious of its own high purposes, is and ought to be lifted above attacks, still it is painful to be misrepresented by people of whom one believed better things. 'ALBERT.' 'Windsor Castle, February 4, 1844.' It would be well for those who hatch-well, too, for those 2 The sister-in-law of the Prince, now the Duchess of Saxe-Coburg. who propagate-calumnies, to lay the concluding words of this letter to heart. In the case of persons in the exalted position of the Prince, who must of necessity submit in silence to slander and misrepresentation, yet, having human hearts, must suffer acutely to find their conduct misrepresented and their purposes maligned, there is surely something peculiarly dastardly in the malice and uncharitableness that sap a reputation which, they must be well aware, neither the person assaulted, nor any one else can stoop to defend. The Prince was indeed terribly shaken by his father's death. This was the first grief that had overshadowed the sunshine of his English home. It was the greatest that could befall him out of that home. Cherishing as he always had done with peculiar fondness the ties of domestic affection, and every remembrance and association of his youth, he felt, to use his own words, that with the loss he had now sustained a great piece had been taken out of his own life. The dreams of the past, and many a fair hope for the future, with which the thought of his father was linked, were now swept away by a sudden wrench. The records of his youth were closed, and a new era in his life had begun, an era of more concentrated purpose, and more self-dependent action. A few days later he was able to write to Baron Stockmar more calmly. 'Windsor Castle, February 9, 1844. 'Dear Stockmar,-We are all well, and getting familiarised by degrees with the thought that poor Papa is no more, which at first we should have thought next to impossible. I have regained my composure, and will set to work to fortify myself by constant activity, to which I have not been able to brace myself hitherto. A new epoch has commenced in my life, not indeed in action and aim, but in my emotional life (Gefühlsleben). My youth, with all the recollections linked |