In the Summer of 1810 she visited her father at Strelitz, whither the King soon followed her, and it was decided to make a long stay at the ducal castle of Hohenzieritz, hoping the change and rest might benefit the Queen. Soon after her arrival, she was taken seriously ill with an acute attack of asthma, but recovered sufficiently by the first of July for the King to return to Charlottenburg, where the royal family were then in the habit of spending the Summer. For some days she seemed much better, but the attacks of pain and suffocation soon returned, and on the nineteenth of July the King hastened back to Hohenzieritz, where he found his wife fully conscious but so altered in appearance that he was forced to leave the room, weeping aloud. As soon as he had recovered his self-control he returned to the Queen, who laid her hand in his with the question: “Did you bring any one with you?” “Yes, Fritz and William,” replied the King. “Ah, God! what joy!” she cried. “Let them be brought to me.” The two boys came in and knelt beside their mother’s bed. “My Fritz, my William!” she murmured repeatedly. Soon the paroxysms seized her again, the children were led away weeping bitterly, and soon afterward the King closed forever those eyes that had been the light of his life’s dark pathway. The death of their beloved Queen turned all Prussia into a house of mourning, so deeply did the sorrowful news affect the hearts of her subjects. Still deeper and more lasting, however, was the impression made upon Prince William by the early loss of his adored mother. All through his life her memory was treasured as a holy image in his heart, and to his latest days he never forgot her devotion and self-sacrifice, or that nineteenth of July which deprived him of a mother’s care, his father of the best of wives, and the nation of a noble sovereign and benefactress.