But suddenly she was reminded that there were other perils besides those of ill-health. During a visit to Coburg in 1860, the Prince was very nearly killed in a carriage accident. He escaped with a few cuts and bruises; but Victoria's alarm was extreme, though she concealed it. 'It is when the Queen feels most deeply,' she wrote afterwards, 'that she always appears calmest, and she could not and dared not allow herself to speak of what might have been, or even to admit to herself (and she cannot and dare not now) the entire danger, for her head would turn!' Her agitation, in fact, was only surpassed by her thankfulness to God. She felt, she said, that she could not rest 'without doing something to mark permanently her feelings,' and she decided that she would endow a charity in Coburg. '£1,000, or even £2,000, given either at once, or in instalments yearly, would not, in the Queen's opinion, be too much.' Eventually, the smaller sum having been fixed upon, it was invested in a trust, called the 'Victoria-Stift,' in the names of the Burgomaster and chief clergyman of Coburg, who were directed to distribute the interest yearly among a certain number {213} of young men and women of exemplary character belonging to the humbler ranks of life.[39] Shortly afterwards the Queen underwent, for the first time in her life, the actual experience of close personal loss. Early in 1861 the Duchess of Kent was taken seriously ill, and in March she died. The event overwhelmed Victoria. With a morbid intensity, she filled her diary for pages with minute descriptions of her mother's last hours, her dissolution, and her corpse, interspersed with vehement apostrophes, and the agitated outpourings of emotional reflection. In the grief of the present the disagreements of the past were totally forgotten. It was the horror and the mystery of Death--Death present and actual--that seized upon the imagination of the Queen. Her whole being, so instinct with vitality, recoiled in agony from the grim spectacle of the triumph of that awful power. Her own mother, with whom she had lived so closely and so long that she had become a part almost of her existence, had fallen into nothingness before her very eyes! She tried to forget it, but she could not. Her lamentations continued with a strange abundance, a strange persistency. It was almost as if, by some mysterious and unconscious precognition, she realised that for her, in an especial manner, that grisly Majesty had a dreadful dart in store.