here. I can't say
_how_ I feel it; I liked and admired him, and know how he was adored
by all of you, and by poor wretched Helene, whom this will kill. Those
poor helpless little children! it is _too_ melancholy. After escaping
from so many dangers, to be cut off in this way is _too_ dreadful!
God knows what is for our best, but this does seem difficult to
understand. I pray and hope that you will all be mercifully supported
under this heavy bereavement. I think it is so dreadful that poor
Helene could not be with him in his last moments! God be with you all,
and believe me, ever your devoted Niece,

VICTORIA R.

I had begun a letter to poor _Chartres_ this morning.

[Footnote 47: On 13th July the Duke of Orleans (formerly Duc
de Chartres), eldest son of Louis Philippe, was thrown from
his phaeton near the Porte Maillot, Paris, and died shortly
afterwards. He was the father of the Comte de Paris and the
Duc de Chartres.]

[Pageheading: ACCOUNT OF THE ACCIDENT]

_The Queen of the Belgians to Queen Victoria._

LAEKEN, _15th July 1842._

MY BELOVED VICTORIA,--You have surely already heard of the heavy
visitation God has sent us. My beloved brother was unexpectedly taken
away from us before yesterday evening. Before yesterday morning he
went to Neuilly to take leave of my parents, previous to his departure
for St Omer. The horses ran away: he had the unfortunate idea to jump
out from his barouche--a thing I cannot understand, as he had on
all occasions an uncommon presence of mind--fell upon his head, and
expired a few hours afterwards, in presence of my too unfortunate
parents, without having recovered his consciousness. It is the
greatest misfortune that could happen to us.

We are quite stunned by the sudden and horrid blow, and I cannot
believe it yet, although I have before me the letter of my poor
parents. They are full of courage and resignation to the will
of Providence; but I do not understand what will become of them,
particularly of my mother, who loved so fondly, and with so much
reason, my brother, and of the too unfortunate Helene. May God help
them and have mercy on them! Clementine and Victoire are gone to
Plombieres to give to Helene the fatal news, and bring her back:
it will most probably be her death. My parents wished to see us
immediately, and we go to-morrow to Paris.

I am sure, my beloved Victoria, of the share you will take in the
misfortune, the greatest wh