Princess Louise to Lady Margaret

Windsor Castle, 4 November 1865

My very dear M.,

Vicky and Fritz finally departed this morning to go to Sandringham for the week, which left the queen most melancholy, and so she concluded that a visit to the mausoleum would be the very thing to cheer her up! I was lucky enough to be selected to accompany her. You won’t be surprised to learn that paying her respects to Papa did not raise Her Majesty’s spirits noticeably. Incidentally, Vicky is expecting—again! Number five, would you believe. I hear that your sister Victoria is also breeding, as you would put it. I hope she has an easier time with her first than my sister did.

I know you’ll forgive me for replying tardily to your last two letters, but my time truly has hardly been my own due to my revered sister’s extended visit. (Yes, I am rolling my eyes—she is so determined to demonstrate her saintliness, just like your own sister. You and I cannot possibly compete!) I shall dash off this note now and write more fully later. I have so much to tell you, M., though most of it will have to wait until we meet again, for I dare not put any of it in writing, even though I know that no-one enjoys salacious gossip more than you do—except me!

I have to say that I am concerned about your state of mind. Your last letter was frightfully serious. When you mentioned that you were determined to use your enforced idleness to read some improving material, I thought you meant digesting an etiquette manual or two—and in the process discovering all the rules which you have blithely broken! A Guide to Manners, Etiquette and Deportment of the Most Refined Society is the kind of thing I imagined, not Mr. Mayhew’s no doubt very worthy book, London Labour and the London Poor. Do not imagine yourself unique in showing an interest in the less fortunate, however. I am willing to wager that another young woman of my acquaintance has read it. Lenchen’s friend Lucy, who last year became Lady Frederick Cavendish, has taken up good works with gusto since her marriage. Amongst other things, she has been assisting at a soup-kitchen in Westminster. Would you like me to facilitate an introduction? I’m sure Lucy and the new, philanthropically minded Lady Margaret would have much to discuss.

Have you any news at all of your potential return to the world? Surely four months is penance enough. It is only a few weeks until Xmas now, and I have already started working on my little albums for gifts—you remember, those with the pressed flowers and leaves, and my drawings opposite? Oh, M., you have no idea how much I miss you. I am bereft of good company. No-one laughs with me as you do. Shall I use my influence and ask the queen to command the duchess to restore you to my presence? I am sorely tempted, save that my mother would be bound to take offence at my finding her company insufficient, and that would be a shame, for I have worked so hard at persuading her that I am quite her favourite!

I have enclosed a length of silk from a bale which I chose for a morning gown. There should be enough material for one for you as well. I know that turquoise is your favourite colour, and fortunately it also suits me very well. I’ve taken the liberty of sketching a design for you. You are forever saying that you envy my style, so now you may adopt it! Consider it an early Christmas present. If you can find someone to make it up, you can wear it on Christmas Day which, I do most sincerely hope, will be spent in the bosom of your family. They cannot possibly leave you all alone at Dalkeith on that day of all days, can they?

I will write more very soon, I promise.

Your very best friend, always and forever,

Louise