She hastened to her desk, and wrote rapidly, but at times hesitating, as
though her pen refused the humiliating words. But at last she finished,
and having quickly read what she had written, she called Minister von
Stein to her side. "Here," she said, sighing, and handing the paper to
him, "take it, the sacrifice has been made. Will my people," she added,
weeping, "will my children be hereafter grateful to me for having
humbled myself for their sake? Will they ever think how painful must
have been these sacrifices? Will they remember and thank me for them in
happier days?"
"Your majesty," said Stein, enthusiastically, "never will they forget
such devotion to your country; and when our great-grandchildren talk of
these days of wretchedness, they will say: 'Prussia could be
humiliated, but she could never perish; for Louisa was her good genius,
praying, acting, and suffering for her.'"
"Well," whispered the queen, sadly, "my slumber in the grave will be
sweet." Starting suddenly, she laid her hand on her heart. "Oh," she
groaned, "how long before this troubled life of mine shall cease!--I
will tell you something, Baron von Stein. Death is not far from me, and
I feel that he comes nearer every day. There is no future for me on
earth. But God's will be done. I read the other day somewhere,
'Sufferings and afflictions are blessings when they are overcome.' Oh,
how true that is! I myself say, in the midst of my afflictions that they
are blessings! How much nearer I am to God!--how clear and true my ideas
of the immortality of the soul! Seen through these tears, the solemn
facts of the future come to me with resistless power. Adversity, if
rightly used, does instruct and bless. I do not complain therefore that
I have been called to weep." A low knocking at the door interrupted her,
and the footman announced the arrival of Prince William.
CHAPTER XXXVI.
PRINCE WILLIAM.
The queen met her husband's brother with a pleasant smile, and offered
him her hand. "I suppose, my brother, you come to bid me farewell?" she
asked.
"I come to get from my noble sister the letter that I am to deliver to
the Emperor Napoleon," said the prince, respectfully kissing the hand of
his sister-in-law.
Louisa turned her eyes toward the minister. "The king knew, then, that
you were to request me to write the letter?"
"Yes, but he forbade me to say that he deemed it necessary. It was to
depend on your majesty's unbiassed judgment whether it should be written
or not."
"You see, my sister," exclaimed the prince, "I had no doubt whatever as
to your decision."
"Nor I that you would set out to-day," said Louisa, smiling.
"But will your majesty pardon me when I confess that I have not come
merely for the letter, and to take leave of you?" asked the prince. "I
heard from the king that Minister von Stein was with your majesty, and
as I am going to set out to-night, and my time accordingly is very
limited, I decided to have settled a little business affair with the
minister."
"It affords me pleasure," said the queen.
"And you, minister," asked the prince, bowing to the baron, "will you
grant me a brief audience to-day?"
"I shall immediately repair to the anteroom of your royal highness, and
wait until you return," said Stein, approaching the door.
"Oh, no! pray, stay here," exclaimed the queen. "I offer this room to
the prince as a _salle de conferences_, and shall retire into my
cabinet."
The prince followed the queen, who was about to withdraw, and conducted
her back to the sofa. "Pardon, my sister," he said, "I do not desire to
confer with the minister about secrets that your majesty cannot hear. I
only wish to ask a favor of his excellency, the minister of finance.
You, doubtless, need a great deal of money at the present time, while my
wife and I are spending much less than heretofore, because we are living
here in very humble style. We have made our calculations, and
ascertained that we are able to do with two-thirds of our income.
Accordingly, I request you to accede to my resolution that, until times
are better, I give up one-third, and beg you to pay this amount into the
state treasury."
"Ah, my brother," replied the queen, "you are worthy of being the
brother of the best of kings, for you vie with him in every virtue.
Prussia cannot be crushed so long as such princes stand by her side."
"And so long as she is protected by such a queen," said the prince,
kissing the offered hand of his sister-in-law. He then turned again to
the minister. "Your excellency," he said, "I am commissioned to reveal
the same resolution to you in the name of my brother. Prince Henry also
gives one-third of his income, and requests the minister of finance to
pay this amount into the state treasury. Is this verbal declaration
sufficient, or will it be necessary for us to repeat it in writing?"
"It will be necessary for your royal highness, as well as for Prince
Henry, to make a written declaration to this effect, and hand it to the
minister of state. It will then be deposited in the archives of the
royal house, and will one day be a splendid monument of your
patriotism."
"In that case, a declaration in writing being required, I request you to
be so kind as to accompany me to my house. We will settle the matter at
once, and invite Prince Henry to participate in the transaction. Can you
spare us fifteen minutes, and will you accept a seat in my carriage?"
"I am at the service of your royal highness," said Stein, bowing.
"Then I beg my sister to dismiss us," said the prince, approaching the
queen. "I have many things yet to attend to, so that every minute is
precious, and, above all, I have to inform my wife of my speedy
departure. Let me beg you, my sister, to be a faithful friend of
Marianne in my absence; take my beloved wife under your protection, and,
when she is afflicted, permit her to be near you."
"We shall weep together, my brother," said the queen, deeply moved. "All
of us will miss you, and it will seem as though life had become drearier
when you are absent. But, considering your generous resolution, it does
not behoove me to complain of our fate. Joyfully, as you have done, we
shall submit to it. I entertain the firm belief that there are better
days for Prussia. Go, my brother, and assist in hastening them by word
and deed. God will protect you, and the love of your wife, and of your
brothers and sisters, will accompany you! Farewell!" She waved her hand,
and turned away to conceal her tears.
The prince withdrew in silence, followed by the minister. The queen
heard the door close after him, and, raising her arms toward heaven,
exclaimed in a fervent tone: "My God, protect Prussia! Oh, bless our
country and our people!" She stood thus praying, with uplifted arms.
After a pause, she murmured, "Now it is time to attend to my business
with the jeweller. The king is in his cabinet, and never comes at this
hour." Having rung the bell, she ordered the footman to request the
court-jeweller to call at once on the queen. Going to her dressing-room,
she took from the table a large leathern box containing all her jewelry.
She succeeded with difficulty in carrying the heavy box into the
reception-room, but she thought, smilingly: "The heavier it is, the
better." Opening the caskets, the brilliant ornaments gladdened her more
than they had ever done. The table was covered with them, and she
contemplated their beauty and value "Ah!" she exclaimed, "I did not
know that I was so rich. These precious stones will certainly bring
money enough to pay all arrears, and there will be something over for my
children."
At this moment the door of the anteroom opened, and the footman
announced Mr. Marcus, the court-jeweller. The queen ordered him to be
admitted, adding, that no one else was to be announced while he was
present. She then locked the opposite door leading into the small
corridor, and thence to the rooms of the king. In the mean time the
jeweller had entered; he remained respectfully at the door, and waited
for the queen to accost him.
"Mr. Marcus," said Louisa, gracefully acknowledging his bow, "I sent for
you to confer about my jewelry. I should like to make some changes in
it; and then, as we cannot tell whither these stormy times may drive us
or our property, I wish to make an invoice of these articles, and
ascertain their cash value. Please step to the table, and be kind enough
to tell me how much all this is worth."
Mr. Marcus approached and carefully examined the magnificent array
before him. "These are real treasures, your majesty," he said,
admiringly; "several pieces among them are exceedingly rich."
"Yes," exclaimed the queen, "I suppose one could get a great deal of
money for them?"
"Your majesty," said Mr. Marcus, shrugging his shoulders, "it needs much
money--in fact, an enormous fortune, to buy them. Part of their value
consists in their artistic setting."
"Ah, I understand; you mean to say that, if they were to be sold now,
one would not get as much as was paid for them."
"Not half as much, your majesty! The intrinsic value is very different
from the cost, which depends much on the setting."
"Pray tell me, then, their intrinsic value."
"Your majesty, to do so correctly, it would be necessary for me to
examine every piece."
"Do so, Mr. Marcus. I will take my memorandum-book and enter each one,
affixing the price. Afterward we can ascertain the whole amount."
The jeweller looked in surprise at the queen; she apparently did not
notice it, but pointed with the lead-pencil, which she had in her hand,
at one of the caskets. "There is my large diamond necklace; what do you
think that is worth, sir?"
The jeweller took up the necklace, twinkling as a cluster of stars.
"These diamonds are magnificent," he said; "they are only a little
yellow, and here and there is a slight defect. I think, however, that
the stones, without the setting, are worth five thousand dollars."
"Five thousand dollars," wrote the queen. "Now, the necklace of rubies
and diamonds."
"These Turkish rubies belong to that very rare kind to be met with only
in royal treasuries," said the jeweller. "They are antique, and look
like sparkling blood. Their value is immense, your majesty; only a
connoisseur would be able to appreciate them, and it is difficult to
appraise them but by the standard value of other Turkish rubies. A
jeweller might, however, receive twice as much as I name--four thousand
dollars, according to the ordinary standard."
"Four thousand dollars," wrote the queen; "now, the next."
"Here," he said, "is a complete set of the most beautiful round pearls:
a diadem, a necklace, earrings, and bracelets," taking up a large case
which had not been opened, and raising its lid.
"No," said the queen, blushing, "we will not appraise these pearls. I
have inherited them from my lamented mother, and they are therefore of
priceless value to me." She extended her hand and laid the casket on the
table at her side. "Now tell me the value of the other articles; take
that necklace of Indian emeralds--"
Half an hour afterward the list was completed. "Thirty thousand
dollars," said the queen; "that, then, is the full value of my jewelry?"
"Yes, your majesty, but its cost must have been several hundred thousand
dollars. I have stated only the imperishable value of the stones; it is
impossible to appraise the setting."
"Well, just now I care only for the cash equivalent," said the queen,
quickly. "And now, sir, listen to me. When I was requested to procure
you the appointment of jeweller to the court, I made inquiries
concerning your character, and heard nothing but the most flattering
opinions. You are known as an honorable man in whom all may repose
confidence. I will prove to you the high value I attach to public
opinion, and I rely on you to keep secret what I am about to tell you."
"I swear by all that is sacred that what your majesty is gracious enough
to reveal shall remain buried in my heart as a precious gem in the
depths of the sea."
"I believe you," said the queen. "I want to sell all these diamonds,
emeralds, and rubies--every thing, except my pearls."
"Sell them!" exclaimed Mr. Marcus, starting back and turning pale. "Oh,
no, pardon me, your majesty, I have misunderstood you. My hearing is a
little impaired. I beg pardon for my mistake, and request your majesty
to be kind enough to repeat your orders."
"You did not mistake my words," said the queen, kindly. "I do want to
sell them."
"Has it come to this," said the jeweller, sighing, "that our noble and
beautiful queen is unwilling to wear again her accustomed ornaments; and
that she considers it no longer worth while to be seen by her poor,
unhappy people in the splendor of a queen?" Sobs choked his voice, and,
unable to repress his tears, he turned away and covered his face with
his hands.
"It has come to that, sir, that the queen will also take part in the
privations of her country; that she will have no other diamonds than the
grateful tears of her loyal people, and that she believes herself
sufficiently adorned when at the side of her husband, and surrounded by
her children. I thank you for your sympathy, for they prove your honest
disposition toward me. But believe me, I need no pity. If every good man
has peace in his own heart, he will have cause to rejoice. And now, sir,
let us talk calmly about this matter."
"I am ready to receive the orders of your majesty," said Mr. Marcus,
making an effort to regain his composure, "and entreat my august queen
to forgive me that my feelings overcame me in her presence. But now I
must examine the jewels more carefully than before. Believing that they
were merely to be invoiced without reference to their sale, I stated
only their lowest value. I am sure better prices might be obtained for
them, and, besides, it remains for me to ascertain the value of the gold
setting by weighing it."
"Oh, no," said the queen, smiling. "Let us not enter into such minute
details. Besides, the purchaser ought to have something for his trouble,
and for the risk of being unable to sell again. We will, therefore, let
your first appraisement stand as it is. The question is, whether you
know of any one who is willing to pay so large a sum in cash."
The jeweller reflected a moment. "Well," he said, "I know an opportunity
to dispose of them immediately. If your majesty permits me to do so, I
will purchase them myself. The Emperor Alexander of Russia, during his
late sojourn at this place, gave me a large order in reference to a
wedding-gift for the betrothed of the Grand-duke Constantine. I have
received bills of exchange, drawn on the wealthiest banking-houses of
St. Petersburg, and the emperor has authorized me to send in at once
precious stones to the amount of fifty thousand dollars. I am able to
pay you half the appraised value to-day, and for the other half I will
give you bills, drawn on St. Petersburg bankers, payable in two weeks.
But I repeat to your majesty that I have appraised the stones at a very
low rate, and that I shall make large profits, and realize at least four
thousand dollars. Your majesty ought to permit me to add the value of
the setting."
"I told you already that we ought not to add any thing to the first
appraisement. Well, the bargain is made," said the queen, gently. "Bring
me the money and the bills of exchange, and you may then take the
jewelry. Let us say I have intrusted it to you to make some alterations
in it."
An hour afterward, the caskets disappeared from the queen's table; in
their place stood a box filled with rolls of gold-pieces, and the bills
of exchange lay at its side. The queen, placing a few of the rolls in
her desk and the bills in the box, hastened to write the following
letter to Baron von Stein:
"I request you to grant me the same favor which the prince obtained from
you. I desire likewise to pay some savings into the state treasury, and
send you, therefore, twenty-five thousand dollars with this letter. Pray
do not forget to pay, in accordance with our agreement, the arrears of
salaries due the men of science and art, and the faithful old servants
of the king. LOUISA."
"Oh," said the queen, laying aside the pen, and looking up with a
grateful expression, "how many worthy men will be delivered from
distress by this unexpected payment! What fervent prayers for their king
will ascend to heaven! Merciful God, hear them, and let my husband and
children be again happy; then I shall have nothing more to desire on
earth!"
In the evening of the same day Prince William, accompanied only by an
adjutant and a footman, set out for Paris in order to deliver to the
Emperor Napoleon the financial plan drawn up by Minister von Stein, and
the letter of Queen Louisa, and to try to induce Napoleon by verbal
remonstrances to withdraw his demands, and accept less ruinous
conditions. Before entering his travelling-coach, the prince, in his
cabinet, bade farewell to her whom he loved so passionately. They
remained long without uttering a word or even a sigh. The beautiful face
of the Princess Marianne was pale, but her tearless eyes beamed with
hope. "Go, my beloved husband," she said, disengaging herself at last
from the arms of the prince, "go and perform your noble sacrifice! My
love will accompany you. Your life is my life, and your death my death!
Go! I fear nothing."
"But at this solemn hour I must communicate a secret to you, Marianne,"
said the prince, "and ask your consent to a resolution that I have
taken. Should all my efforts be of no avail--should Napoleon be induced
neither by Stein's plan nor by the queen's letter, nor by my own
solicitations, to consent to the proposed mode of liquidation, owing to
his belief that he would not have sufficient security for the payment of
the contributions, then, Marianne, a last remedy would remain, and I
would assuredly not shrink from it. In that case I shall offer myself as
a hostage. I shall tell him that I must remain his prisoner, and allow
myself to be transported to If, to Cayenne, or where he pleases, until
the king has made all the promised payments. This will prove to him that
I myself feel convinced that these will be made. He may be sure the
king's brother will be redeemed. Tell me now, Marianne, do you approve
my resolution?"
The princess laid her hand on the head of her husband. "You offer to
surrender not only yourself but both of us," she said. "Both of us,
William, for I want to be where you are. I will also share your devotion
to Prussia. You may offer both of us as hostages to the emperor. I shall
be happy when with you, whether in a dungeon or in a palace. The love
uniting us will sustain us even then, and, when our captivity is over,
we will return happy to our beloved country. But if it be otherwise--if
circumstances occur delaying the payments, and calling down upon you the
wrath of the conqueror--if he then desire to take revenge upon you--oh,
then, I shall know how to find a way to his heart so that he will permit
me to die with you. We are alone; our children are dead, and, therefore,
we are at liberty to pursue such a course. Oh, William, then we shall be
happy forever! Go, my beloved husband! and when the hour comes, call me
to your side. Let us live, and, if need be, die for the fatherland! Let
it be inscribed on our coffin: 'They have done their duty. The
fatherland is content with them!'"[34]
[Footnote 34: Prince William really carried out this resolution. He
found at his first interview that Napoleon was by no means friendly
toward Prussia, and particularly toward King Frederick William. Carried
away by his enthusiasm and generosity, the prince took at this audience
the step which he had intended to reserve if all else should prove
unavailing. He offered himself and his wife as hostages to the emperor,
and entreated him to permit them to remain in French captivity until the
payments were made. Napoleon listened to him, and while he was speaking
the countenance of the emperor gradually became milder. He approached
the prince, embraced him affectionately, and exclaimed, "That is very
generous, but it is impossible. Never would I accept such a
sacrifice--never!" For the rest, the mission of the prince was an utter
failure. Napoleon referred him to Minister Champagny, who, by all sorts
of subterfuges, managed to protract and finally to break off the
negotiations. The prince was detained several months in Paris, and
returned, without having accomplished any thing, to Konigsberg, whither
the royal family had removed in the mean time.]
CHAPTER XXXVII.
THE GENIUS OF PRUSSIA.
The queen was alone in her room. She sat on the sofa, and a dress of
heavy silk, interwoven with flowers, lay spread out on the table before
her. She turned over the dress, as if carefully examining it. "Sure
enough, there it is!" she suddenly exclaimed. "Now, quick to work!" She
hastened to her table, on which was to be seen a beautiful silk
embroidery just finished by the queen. Among the threads she selected
one that was of the same color as the dress, and hastily threaded her
needle. "Now I will finish my work before any one surprises me,"
whispered Louisa. She was so assiduously employed that she did not
notice that the opposite door, softly opening, had admitted the king. He
stood still for a moment and looked at the queen. Advancing, he asked,
frowningly, "What are you doing, Louisa?"
The queen uttered a cry, and a deep blush suffused her cheeks. Pushing
aside the table and the dress, she rose from the sofa and went to salute
her husband. "Welcome, dearest!" she said, lovingly clinging to him;
"you knew that it was cold and lonely here, and you come to gladden me.
Thanks, my Frederick, thanks and welcome! I feel as though you were
given to me anew, and I greet you every morning as with the young heart
of a bride." She laid her beautiful head on his shoulder, and her
delicate hand played with his hair.
But the king did not return her caresses, and his eyes, which usually
looked so lovingly at his wife, were directed to the dress on the table.
"You have not yet replied to me, Louisa," he exclaimed.
"Replied to what?" she asked, raising her head from his shoulder, and
calmly looking at him.
"You know it," said the king--"to my question."
"To your question? And what did you ask?" replied the queen. "You asked
me whether I loved you and had already thought of you this morning. Yes,
my king and husband, you are the object of all my thoughts, and I think
of you with every pulsation of my heart. And do you know what just
occurred to me, and what I am going to propose to you? It is a fine
winter-day, and the snow is sparkling in the sun. We have half an hour
until dinner. Let us improve it and take a walk. Let us go to our two
princes, who are skating with their instructor. Tell me, my friend,
shall we do so?"
The king shook his head gloomily. "You wish to divert me from my
question," he said, "which proves that you have heard it. I will repeat
it. What were you doing with that dress when I entered?"
The queen hung her head in evident embarrassment, and her face assumed a
melancholy air. "You insist on a reply, my husband?" she asked. "I hoped
you would notice my confusion, and generously desist."
"I must know every thing that happens to you," said the king; "I must
know the full extent of our misfortunes, that I may not be deceived by
any illusions. Tell me, therefore, what were you doing?"
"Well, then, my husband, I will tell you," said the queen, resolutely.
"I like the dress, not because it is made of very costly and beautiful
materials, but you yourself selected it for me. You know that we give a
party to-morrow to celebrate the birthday of the crown prince, and I
wished to wear that dress. Now, I knew what no one else knew, that the
last time I wore it I had torn it by a nail in the wall, on crossing the
corridor. If I had informed my maid of this mishap, I should have been
unable to wear it again, for custom, I believe, forbids queens to wear
mended dresses. I was, however, bent on saving it. For this purpose I
took it stealthily from my wardrobe to mend the small hole as rapidly as
possible, while my lady of honor was taking a ride, and my maid was at
dinner. I had just finished when you entered, and if you had come a few
minutes later the dress would have disappeared, and no one would suspect
to-morrow that my rich attire had been mended. Now, you know my secret,
and I entreat you to keep it and allude to it no more. But you must also
reply to me: shall we take a walk?"
The king made no answer, but gazed at her with melancholy tenderness.
"You do this, Louisa, because you shrink from the expense of buying a
new dress," he said. "Oh, do not deny it; do not try to deceive me. I
know it to be true."
"And suppose it were true?" asked the queen, gently, drawing her head
from his hands. "Will you be sad because I do in these times what all
our subjects are obliged to do--because I try to be a little
economical?"
"The Queen of Prussia, my consort," exclaimed the king, "is compelled to
mend her own dresses! Is the cup of disgrace and humiliation not yet
full!"
"And why do you speak of disgrace?" asked the queen, laying her hands on
the shoulders of her husband, and looking tenderly in his face. "Why do
you say I humble myself by mending my dress? I only followed the example
of your noble ancestor, Frederick II. Did not the great king also mend
and patch his clothes? Did he not repair with sealing-wax his scabbard,
because he did not want to buy a new one? Well, I believe little Louisa
will be allowed to do as the great Frederick did, and need not be
ashamed of it. On the contrary, my husband, when I sat there sewing, my
heart was glad, for the memories of my early years revived in my mind: I
saw myself at the side of my venerable grandmother, the Landgravine of
Hesse-Darmstadt, and I lived again in those sunny days that I spent with
her in Hanover. My grandmother taught me how to mend, and I frequently
profited by the skill I had acquired with her. For you married the
daughter of a poor prince, who was not a sovereign at that time, but
only a younger brother, and the Queen of Prussia does not blush to
confess that when she was yet a princess of Mecklenburg, she not only
mended her dresses but even trimmed her shoes with her own hands. It is
no jest, my king and husband, I really often did so, and I never felt
humiliated. Never did I consider it a disgrace to do sometimes what
thousands of the most virtuous and amiable women are always doing. When
I used to sew my shoes, I was poor, for I did not yet know you; but now,
although I have repaired my dress, I am rich, for I have you--I have my
children--I am the wife of a man who suffers because he values his honor
higher than worldly greatness--who would perish rather than break an
alliance he has sworn to, and refuses to give his neck to the tyrant's
yoke. Oh, my husband, when I look at you, my soul is transported with
gladness, and I thank God that I am allowed to love you. Since you are
mine I feel happy, rich, and powerful."
She placed her beautiful arms around the king, who pressed her against
his breast. "Thanks, my Louisa! thanks for your joyful love. Your eyes
gladden my life, and your voice is the only music that can lull my
grief. That is the reason I come to you now. I seek here consolation in
my affliction, for when you help me to bear the burden, it is less
oppressive. I have received two letters to-day which gave me pain, and
which I desire to communicate to you."
"I shall be grateful to you, my husband, for doing so," said the queen.
"Come, let us sit down together, and communicate the letters to me. Who
wrote them? Whence did they come?"
"One is from Konigsberg, from our daughter Charlotte."
"From Charlotte!" exclaimed the queen, starting. "Has any thing happened
to her? Has she been taken ill?"
"No, she is well, and nothing has happened to her. She is, on the
contrary, in excellent spirits, and, like all young girls, wishes to
dress well. She writes to me, asking me to send her money that she may
renew her winter wardrobe. Here is the letter."
The queen quickly glanced over it. "Oh, the dear, good child," she
exclaimed, "how tenderly she loves us--how prettily and affectionately
she gives expression to her feelings! And yet she often appears
outwardly cold and indifferent.--She resembles her noble father: she
does not wear her heart on her tongue, but it throbs lovingly in her
bosom. She is seemingly reserved and haughty, but she is affectionate.
If God permits her to live I anticipate a brilliant future for her."[35]
[Footnote 35: The very words of the queen.--Vide "Queen Louisa," p. 302.
This prophecy was fulfilled, for the Princess Charlotte afterward
married the Emperor of Russia.]
"A brilliant future!" echoed the king; "for _my_ daughter--for the
daughter of a king without a kingdom--of a man who is so poor as to be
unable to gratify her just and modest wishes! She asks for money to
replenish her winter wardrobe. Now, do you know what I have written to
her? I have sent her five dollars, and given her at the same time the
wretched consolation to be content with that sum, for it was all I could
spare."
"Well," said the queen, with a gentle smile, "at all events, five
dollars will enable her to buy a warm winter dress, and by and by our
finances will improve."
"I do not see any such prospect," exclaimed the king, vehemently.
"All our resources are exhausted; all the public funds are gone, and
even your generosity will be unable to create new ones. My noble queen,
in generous self-denial, sacrifices her jewels in order to gladden and
comfort others, and to lay her own contribution on the altar of her
country. She did not think of herself in doing so."
"Yes, I did," said the queen, smiling, "I did think of myself. I
reserved five thousand dollars, and with that sum all the bills we
owed--all our debts for the household, for the stable, and the servants,
have been paid. But you intended communicating two letters to me. What
about the second?"
"The second," said the king, mournfully, "is a farewell from my faithful
subjects in the province of Mark, whom, alas! with a heavy heart, I have
absolved from their oath of allegiance, and ordered to serve another
sovereign, and to obey the new King of Westphalia. I am not ashamed of
confessing it, Louisa, I wept on writing to them, and on reading their
reply. There it is. Read it aloud. It will do me good to hear again
these touching words."
The queen unfolded the large letter, to which several official seals
were attached, and read in a tremulous voice:
"Our heart was rent when we read your farewell letter, good king. We
cannot believe even now that we, who always loved you so affectionately,
are to cease being your subjects. As sure as we live, it was neither
your fault, nor ours, that your generals and ministers were too confused
after the defeat of Jena to march the dispersed divisions of the army to
us, and to lead them, united with our whole people, into a struggle
which, with the blessing of God, would have been successful. We would
have willingly risked our lives, for you must not doubt that the blood
of the ancient Cheruscians is still flowing in our veins; that we are
proud of calling Hermann and Wittekind countrymen of ours, and of
knowing that on our soil was that field of battle where our ancestors
defeated their enemies in so decisive a manner that they never fought
again. We also would assuredly have saved the fatherland, for we have,
we believe, marrow in our bones, and remain uncorrupted by modern luxury
and effeminacy. But no one can escape the decrees of Providence. Oh,
farewell, then, our father and king! Heaven grant you more faithful
generals and more sagacious ministers for the remainder of your states!
You are not omniscient, and you were sometimes obliged to follow them
into blind paths. Unfortunately, we must also submit to what cannot be
helped. God help us! We trust our new sovereign will be a father to us,
and honor and respect our language and customs, our faith and rights, as
you always did, dear and beloved king! Health, joy, and peace!"
"And you call us poor and disgraced when such hearts are throbbing for
us," exclaimed the queen, with radiant eyes. "No, we are rich, for our
subjects love us, and even when compelled to part with you, they send
you their love-greetings!"
"But I cannot reward their love; I have no means of showing how my heart
appreciates it," exclaimed the king, mournfully. "Oh, Louisa, I am a
poor, wretched man; my heart is desponding, and even your cheering words
are unable to console it. Wherever I look, whatever plans I form, I see
nowhere a prospect of change for the better. My country is occupied by
hordes of foreign soldiers. My subjects, exposed to the overbearing and
avarice of the French, who think they are sovereign rulers of my states,
are vainly praying to their king to come to their assistance. Their
courage is exhausted; their strength gone; commerce is prostrated;
manufacturers and mechanics are idle; the farmers have no seed-corn, nor
courage to cultivate their fields, for they know that they will be
robbed of the fruits of their labor. Our soldiers walk about with bowed
heads, and scarcely dare to wear their uniforms, for they remind them of
Jena and Auerstadt, of the capitulation of Prenzlau, of the surrender of
so many fortresses, and, like myself, they wish they had been buried on
the battle-field of Jena. Want, misery, and suffering are everywhere,
and I am unable to help! I must still permit the enemy to inundate my
states, although it was expressly stipulated by the treaty of Tilsit
that the French army was to evacuate Prussia in the course of two
months. I must also permit the Emperor Napoleon (though after the
conclusion of peace, and contrary to the treaty) to take New Silesia,
and add her to the kingdom of Warsaw; to transform the two leagues of
the new territory of Dantzic into two German miles, and, without even
asking my consent, to deprive me of my property. But I am determined to
suffer this injustice and humiliation no longer, and to make the last
sacrifice."
"What are you going to do, my husband?" exclaimed the queen, laying her
hand with an anxious gesture on the arm of her husband. "What
sacrifice?"
"Myself!" said the king, gloomily, "for it is I alone who bring
misfortune on my people. A sinister fatality pursues me, and has pursued
me from my earliest youth. Only one star ever rose on my troubled
firmament, and that was you, Louisa. But it will not set, even though I
carry out my purpose. In solitude and sorrow it will still shine
hopefully upon me. My childhood was wretched, and embittered by
long-continued sufferings; while I was crown prince, I had to submit to
the affliction of not possessing the heart of my father, and of being
unable to approve his actions. I was so unfortunate as to be compelled
to begin the first day of my reign with a demonstration against his
course by having the woman arrested whom he had loved so long and
ardently, and to whom the final wishes and thoughts of the dying
sovereign had been devoted. It is his spirit, perhaps, that now brings
all these calamities upon me. But my people shall not suffer; I will
deliver them from the fatal influences attaching them to me, and in
order to conciliate my fate I will voluntarily lay down my crown."
"Never! my husband, never shall you do so," exclaimed the queen in great
excitement. "Never shall my noble and brave king declare that his spirit
is crushed and vanquished. Majesty would thereby render itself guilty of
suicide. For majesty, like life, is a boon sent by Providence, and you
are no more allowed to divest yourself of it arbitrarily than to put a
voluntary end to your life. And, least of all, are you permitted to do
so in times of adversity and danger, for such a course would look like
cowardice with which my king and husband assuredly cannot be charged.
Charles V. and Christina of Sweden were at liberty to abdicate, for when
they did so they were at the acme of their power, and yet they ever
repented of it; they felt that all nations were scornfully exclaiming:
'Behold the faithless, suicidal servant of God! Behold the stigma on
that anointed brow! The crown sanctifies the head that wears it. But
that coward has dishonored himself, and the glory that God gave him.'
Oh, my beloved husband, the nations must never speak in this manner of
you; the annals of history must never report that you deserted your
people when they were oppressed, and that, in order to obtain peace and
safety for yourself, you gave up your country, and cast away your crown.
It is true, fortune is imposing grievous burdens on us; but at such a
time it behooves a true man to meet adversity with a bold front."
"Ah, if I were possessed of your unwavering faith and cheerfulness!"
said the king, profoundly sighing. "But my hope is gone; our misfortunes
have crushed out not my courage but my belief in a better future."
"And yet they were necessary that we might one day obtain real
happiness," said Louisa. "Oh, I begin to perceive distinctly that the
events which have afflicted us will redound to our own welfare.
Providence is evidently introducing a new era, because the old one has
outlived itself. We fell asleep on the laurels of Frederick the Great,
who was the master-spirit of another century; we did not progress with
the times, and they outstripped us."
"There must be many changes, I am satisfied, in our administration,"
said the king, thoughtfully. "The army must be reorganized, and those
who in the hour of danger are cowards must be judged with inexorable
severity. Alas! all this will be in vain; I succeed in accomplishing
nothing; all my measures turn out to my detriment, and to the advantage
of our enemy."
"It is true," said the queen, sighing, "he has much success. Even our
most deliberate plans are fruitless. Though the Russians and Prussians
fight like lions, and are not defeated, they are obliged to evacuate the
field of battle, and the French emperor claims a victory. Nevertheless,
it would be blasphemous to say that God was on his side; he is an
instrument of Providence in order to bury that in which life is extinct,
but which still clings to that destined to live. We may derive lessons
from him, and what he has accomplished ought not to be lost to us. Oh, I
firmly believe in Providence, and a great moral system ruling the world.
I cannot see it, however, in the brutal reign of force, and hence I
believe that these times will be succeeded by more prosperous ones. All
good men hope for them, and the eulogists of the hero of this day must
not mislead us. All that has happened is not the ultimate order of
things; it is a severe yet salutary preparation for a new and better
destiny. We must not delude ourselves, my beloved friend, with the idea
that this is remote; in spite of all obstacles, we must strive to reach
it with strength, courage, and cheerfulness. With the merciful
assistance of Providence, we must continue to battle for our honor and
our rights!"
"Yes, be it so!" exclaimed the king, "God is with me, for He has placed
you at my side; He has given me an angel who fills my heart with that
courage which is based on faith in Him. Oh, forgive my timidity and
despondency; I pledge you my word I will meet the future with a strong
heart. Only remain with me, my dearest Louisa; look at me with your
cheering eyes, and inspire my heart with hope. Whenever I falter, remind
me of this hour in which I vowed to you to struggle to the last."
"Thanks, my king and husband!" exclaimed the queen; "whatever may
happen, let us meet it, united in love, hope, and faith in God!"
"Yes," said the king; "adversity itself is not devoid of exalted
moments, and you, my Louisa, have become dearer to me in these days. I
know now by experience what a treasure you are to me. Let the storm rage
outside, if all is calm within."
"It is my pride and happiness to possess the love of the best of men,"
said the queen; "and though we leave no inheritance to our children, we
shall leave them at least the example of our wedded life; let them learn
from it to be happy in themselves."
"_Madame la Reine est servie_!" shouted a merry voice behind them; and
when the queen turned, she saw her son, Crown-Prince Frederick William,
who approached her with rosy cheeks and laughing eyes. "Pardon me,
dearest parents, for venturing to enter the room without your
permission, but I longed to salute you, and therefore assumed the duty
of the steward, who was about to announce that dinner is ready."
"And I suppose my son found this announcement exceedingly interesting,
and longed just as much for his dinner as for his parents," exclaimed
the queen, smiling and looking with beaming eyes at her favorite son.
"Oh, no, no," said the crown prince, laughing, "I thought first of my
beloved parents, but then--yes, I confess the idea of getting my dinner
is very agreeable, considering that I have been on the ice for several
hours."
"Well, my husband," asked the queen, merrily, "shall we comply with the
wishes of the young epicure? Shall we permit him to conduct us to the
dining-room?"
"Yes, certainly," said the king, offering his arm to his wife. "Lead the
way, M. Steward!" The crown prince assumed a grave air, and, after
bowing to his parents in the reverential manner of a royal steward, he
preceded them with ludicrous strides, and commenced singing in a ringing
voice: "_Immer langsam voran, dass die oesterreichsche landwehr
nachkommen kann_."[36]
[Footnote 36: "Always slowly forward, that the Austrian landwehr may be
able to follow,"--a well-known humorous song, ridiculing the slowness of
the Austrian militia.]
The king laughed more heartily than he had done for many weeks, while
the queen looked lovingly at her son who had performed this miracle.
CHAPTER XXXVIII.
A FAMILY DINNER.
In the dining-room was William, the younger prince, who hastened to his
parents, and returned the tender salutation of his beautiful mother by
covering her hand with kisses. There were no guests at the royal table;
the king preferred to dine _en famille_, and for several days the queen
had ordered the ladies and gentlemen of the court to dine by themselves,
and only with the royal family when company was not distasteful to her
husband. The king looked with a smile of content at the small table, on
which he noticed only four covers, and, conducting his wife to her seat,
he said, with a grateful glance, "You have anticipated my most secret
wishes, Louisa; I like, above all, to dine alone with my family. Guests
and strange faces always bring etiquette with them, and that renders our
repasts formal and unpleasant. Thanks, Louisa!"
It was a very frugal meal, hardly suitable to a royal dinner-table.
Frederick William and the queen, however, contentedly partook of the
plain, wholesome food; and, gayly chatting, they did not seem to notice
that the dinner was served up in common china dishes, and that the
plates before them were of the same cheap material. Prince William ate
with the appetite of a healthy little boy; the crown prince, however,
who was twelve years old, did not seem to relish his food. He had
disposed of his soup, although he thought it weak and not well flavored,
supposing the other courses would be more to his taste. But when it was
succeeded by roast meat and cabbage, he made a wry face, and handled his
fork very daintily.
"I suppose you do not like cabbage?" asked the king, who had noticed the
reluctant appetite of the crown prince.
"No, your majesty," said the prince, smiling, "there are dishes that I
like better, although I know it to be a very respectable one, with which
the French just now are made acquainted. I will leave the
_shucrout_[37] to them, and console myself in the mean time with
thinking of two things--of the entremets now, and of my birthday
to-morrow."
[Footnote 37: French pronunciation of sour-crout.]
"I suppose you entertain a good many wishes in regard to your birthday?"
asked the king, putting more cabbage on his own plate. "Tell me, Fred, what is it you wish?" |
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