The Stourbridge Observer, Cradley Heath, Halesowen & District Chronicle.
Stourbridge, West Midlands, England, 1879-01-04 00:00:00

A WATCHER BY THE DEAD,

(From Monday's Times.)
A correspondent sends us the following translation of an
article Porn Cie Darmstiidter Zeitung bearirg this title, and
dated Darmstadt, Christmas-Eve

"Long, long before da) break on one of these
gloomy December days of last week an officer made
his way hurriedly along the empty, silent streets of the
capital. He was in full uniform, but its pomp and
splendour were shrouded in a thick covering of crape,
for he was afoot thus early to do duty by the bier of the
beloved Princess. Desolate were the streets, as of a
city of the dead; desolate as though tenanted only by
the dead was the lordly palace to which he bent hissteps.
The sentinels at the gate stood motionless, despite
the severe cold, as if they feared to disturb the repose
of death. Here, where the inhabitants of the capital
used to see all astir with the buq, cheerful life
inseparable from the residence of a reigning Prince;
here, where in days but recently gone by children,
blooming and beautiful, the country's pride and the joy
of their princely parents, gave animation to house
and garden, all was silent and void; a deadly blast
had swept over the till now so happy home. The
country's young, idolized mother had closed her
beautiful eyes, closed them br evermoze, after
doing and enduring nobly, after tasting the bitter-
ness of great earthly sorrow. Many long and
woeful days, many nights of even greater anguish,
had she watched, trembled, and prayed by the
couch of a husband sick unto death and of five children
beloved past telling. The sweet, youngest bud in the
fair wreath of princely children had been torn from
her bleeding heArt, and tears—scalding tears— for the
sweet little Max,bloss m, which she had herself put to
its last sleep under chaplets of flowers, flowed fast, as
she folded her hands in gratitude when the peril of
death had passed over the heads of her husband and
her other children. Thus do we learn humility ! '
he said, with quivering lip, to a lady who stood
beside her. God has called for one life, and has
given me back five for it -; how, then, should I
mourn ? ' And now, when, with fear and trembling,
joy seemed about to enter once more into that heavily-
stricken home, again the dark pinions of the Angel of
Death were heard upon the air, and he bore away the
truest of wives, the most loving of mothers, a sacrifice
to duty fulfilled with the noblest forgetfulness of self.
These were the thoughts with which the solitary way-
farer went upon his sorrowful way, and crossed the
threshold of the chamber of death. With light step
and whispered words the watchers by the dead whom
he relieved withdrew.

"Overwhelmed by the majesty of death, which met
him here in its most sombre form, the new comer bent
his head and continued long in silent prayer. The
Princess lay on a bier in the great hall on the ground
floor, where she had sci often sat surrounded by a ra-
dient circle of guests. What of her was earthly,
cased in a triple cerement, was covered with a pall of
black velvet, which, however, was almost hid
from view beneath a mass of flowers and palms.
Upon the head of the coffin stood a littlt, simple
crucifix of perfect artistic workmanship. Six
torchei on pedestals, hung with black, stood round
the bier, shedding but a feeble glimmer through
the hall, scarcely brighter, indeed, than the
scanty light of the dawning winter day. From
the wall opposite the coffin the youthful image
of her husband, painted in happier times, looked sadly
down upon the loved one lost. Directly opposite
hung the picture which the Hessian Division had had
painted for their much loved leader, in remembrance
of the glorious day of Gravelotte—a picture of battle
and of the wild melee of slaughter in the bile tchamber
of death. He who cow watched by the coffin had
played a part in the conflict of the memorable day
which the picture was meant to perpetuate, and he
knew how deeply it was interwoven with the life of
the Princess who lay there in her long last sleep. Her
dear husband had gone to the campaign with his
faithful Hessians ; elle knew his precious life to be
in hourly danger; but her own sorrows and cares were
not her first thought. Helpful, comforting, encourag-
ing she gave at all times to those who were left behind
a brilliant example of cheerful and devoted courage;
and when the wounded and sick came back from the
battle-fields in ever-inerewin4 numbers, she it was
who everywhere took thelead with noblest self-abnega-
tion and practical good sense. By the beds of the
sick and dying she stood like a comforting angel, and
the love of the Hessian people twined the fairest o. all
diadems, the aureole of the heroine, round her princely
brows.

"This grateful love, not only of those who bore
arms, but of the citizen and artizan as well, for which
these things laid the foundation, was now sincerely
and unconstrainedly busy beside the bier of the
princely sleeper. Servants came with loads of
wreaths and bouquets, and arranged them upon the
coffin. But it was not the official tributes of flowers
from Court and nobles, from the deputations of regi-
ments far and near, which were laid as a mournful
homage at the feet of the dead mistress that
touched most deeply the heart of him who stood
there on guard. N 6, the tear stole down unbidden,
the little trivial gift of the poor and humble
who lived far away from Court favour, had
a greater value in his eyes. It was still quite early
morning when, with the first glimmer of day,
came an old peasant woman from the Odenwald.
Advancing timidly, she laid, with a murmured
prayer, a little wreath of rosemary, with a couple of
small, white flowers, perhaps the only ornament of
her poor little room at home, as a token of grateful
affection down upon the velvet pall. Then, thinking
herself unnoticed, she took a rosebud from one of the
srlendid wreaths, and hid it under her old, woollen
dress. Who could interfere to baulk the impulse of
genuine affection that longed to carry off some slight
memorial with it? And now the little flower is lying
between the leaves of the old Bible, and in days to
come, the matron, when she turns the leaves of the
sacred volume, will tell her daughters and grand-
daughters of the noble lady, too early snatched away
from her people—of her, who never forgot the poorest
and the humblest of them all.
"Anon appeared the bearer of one of the proudest
names in Hesse, who was attached to the personal
service of the Princess. The official, stalwart bear-
ing of the courier was left outside, and, weeping hot,
unhidden tears, he lingered long by the bier. To
what a lofty soul, to what goodness of heart, was he
saying here a bitter farewell! He was followed by two
little girls, poorly but cleanly dressed, and they, too,
brought their tribute of gratitude—two little bunches of
violets. Shyly, almost frightened, and yet with childish
curiosity, they drew slowly nearer. They thought of an-
other winter day, some years ago. Hungry, chilled to
the heart, they were sitting in an empty attic; their
parents were dead, and they ate among strangers bread
that was hard and grudgingly given, when that great
lady appeared who was now sleeping here under the
flowers. From her, whose heart was ever yearning to
the orphan's cry, they heard again, for the first time,
gentle, loving words; by her provision was quickly
made for their more kindly treatment, and gratitude
was rooted firmly and far ever in their young souls.
"A deputation from the Court Theatre laid upon
the coffin a wreath intertwined with pale pink
streamers. Art, too, had come to mourn for her noblest
patroness, who had been every ready with her fine,
cultivated intelligence to advance whatever was great
and good. A servant brought a beautiful cross, of
dark foliage with white flowers. It was the gift of the
Grand Duke's mother, anxious to testify by an outward
sign her love for her dead daughter. In ever-growing
numbers came the mourners, all visibly oppressed by the
weight of the calamity which had fallen upon the coun-
try. Countless were the gifts of rove, of gratitude, of
respect, which, now beautiful and costly, now slight
and simple, arched ever higher and higeer the hill of
flowers above the coffin. The ladies of the neighbour-
ing towns sent cushions of dark violets, with chaplets
of white flowers. Two ladies deeply veiled brought
branches of palm, from the dark green of which
gleamed a white scroll—a poetic farewell word of deep
feeling :

'A hurricane, charged with destruction,
Oh! palm, swept o'er thee. The squall
• Crash'd wild through thy leaves and tore from thee
The tenderest, sweetest of ale.
The clouds clear'd away in the distance,
The tempest seem'd over and past,
When forth from the firmament darted
A lightning bolt, fiery and fast. •
It struck thee, oh! noble one, struck thee I
It crush'd thee, and now thou art gone!
Farewell 1 In our death-day thine image
Still, still in our hearts shall live on.'
There was a second poem, enclosed in a heart-shaped
framework of leaves, which gave expression to the
grief of a devoted soul for the high-hearted lady.
"But now the hour was come for another to take
the post of honour by the bier of the Princess.
Sileßtly and sadly the two men saluted. He that
left took away with him a deep and elevating
irnl•ression of the general love and respect paid
by the people of Hes9e to thelr too-early departed
Princess, and the remembrance of that silent
watch by the dead will remain in his memory for ever.
And ,he who now entered on that honourable duty
could,chronicle prook of genuine grief, of true reve-
rence and love, not fewer nor less touching. Whoso-
ever is thus bewept has secured the best and fairest
memorial in the hearts of her own people for all time
The remembrance of the just abi4eth in bless-
ing., ,t