sexes.
Death was in the air that year. Grandmama Saxe-Coburg did not pay her usual visit to Rosenau, nor was she well enough for the boys to visit her. Duke Ernest was called to her bedside one day and the boys stood at the window watching him and his little party ride away. ‘They say she is very sick,’ said Ernest. ‘And she is old.’ Albert shivered. But one did not have to be old to die. He was thinking of his mother as he had last seen her and now when he thought of her he must imagine her lying in a coffin … dead. And the nails which were driven into that coffin were like her sins.
It was impossible to imagine never seeing Grandmama Saxe-Coburg again; Albert kept thinking of how she had looked after him and had meant more and more to him since his mother had gone.
Each day he waited at the window for a sign of the returning party. He would know as soon as he saw them what news they had brought. Ernest would stand silently beside him while they both watched the road.
‘Perhaps Father will bring Grandmama back with him,’ suggested Albert.
‘How could he if she were very ill?’ demanded Ernest.
‘Perhaps she is not so ill. Perhaps she has recovered. If she comes back I will sing my newest song to her and I am sure she will like it.’
Then they began to talk of what they would do to entertain Grandmama Saxe-Coburg when she came to Rosenau to get well.
And one day they saw their father returning and they knew that he came in mourning.
He sent for Albert and when his son stood before him he laid his hand on the boy’s shoulder.
‘She was my mother and your grandmother,’ said the Duke, ‘and she has gone from us now. It is a great sorrow for us all. And you perhaps more than any one of us. You were her favourite.’
The tears flowed down Albert’s cheeks; he brought out a handkerchief and dried them.
‘Death is terrible,’ said Albert.
‘That is at least a lesson you have learned, my boy.’
‘Only a little while ago she was well and there was no sign that she was going to leave us.’
‘These things happen, my son. She was not young and she would say that she had lived her life. But I have sent for you because she talked of you particularly at the end.’
‘What did she say of me, Father?’
‘She said she had every confidence in you. She said you had good moral qualities and she believed you would grow into a good man.’
‘It shall be my earnest endeavour to do that, Father. I want to be both good and useful in the world.’
‘She was ambitious for you, Albert. There is not much here for you. You are a second son. A good marriage is what you need. It was her dearest wish that you should marry your cousin. I hope that wish will be fulfilled.’
‘If my cousin is agreeable I shall be.’
The Duke laid his hand on his son’s shoulder again.
‘Always remember that it was the wish of your grandmother – her last wish.’
Albert swore solemnly that he would.
The brothers were going on a journey and they were very excited because it would be the first time they had left Germany.
After the bustle of preparation and many excited conferences they set out with a very small entourage.
‘It’s all I can afford,’ said the Duke, ‘and my brother Leopold will have to understand that.’
At least Herr Florschütz was with them, for lessons would continue as usual and that very useful gentleman did service as an attendant as well as tutor.
It was very interesting travelling through the little German States and visiting relatives en route. The changing scenery was a constant delight to the brothers and they were able to collect many unusual pieces of rock and stones for their museum; stopping at inns was a great novelty and it was an adventure to mix with ordinary people, particularly when they were sometimes incognito and at others those they met had never heard of the Coburg Princes.
What a pleasure it was to be reunited with Uncle Leopold, whom Albert had never forgotten.
Piper Vaughn & Kenzie Cade